The Mocklore Omnibus (Mocklore Chronicles #1 & #2) by Tansy Rayner Roberts

Author:Tansy Rayner Roberts
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: humor, fantasy, strong female character, tansy rayner roberts, australian, terry pratchett
Publisher: Tehani Wessely

3: Thunderdust

Sparrow was dreaming of gold. She ploughed waist-deep through the stuff, forcing her body onwards through the firm, globulous mass. It swamped around her, pulling her down and pushing her back. It clung to her skin, warm and supple. Golden waves crashed against her legs, golden arms reached up to catch hold of her.

Under the surface, everything was thick and liquid and amber. Sparrow swam, her hair surrounding her like a wide cloak. She saw fire in the gold, and snow, and pirates. She saw a red-haired woman, and took an instant dislike to her. In the final, frivolous moments before the gold filled her mouth and choked her lungs, Sparrow thought she heard a chorus of tiny laughing voices.

And then she woke up with her mouth full of dirt, a major disadvantage of sleeping on the ground. Still, she would sleep surrounded by stone tonight. Every step took her closer to familiar territory. Crossing the Skullcaps had been uncomfortable to say the least—that territory was so clogged up with residual magic that it was difficult even to sneeze without creating some strange and mysterious new species.

After checking that the leather-wrapped vial was still safely stowed in her boot, Sparrow started walking. She had caught up to her own time, but somehow the liquid gold was still a part of her. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, resisting the urge to unwrap the vial and look at it again, even to taste it.

This was no different to any other kind of valuable cargo. She was not immune to greed. But she had the willpower to deal with this. Nothing would stop her handing it over to the Sultan, intact. After all, her reward would be well worth it. Freedom was priceless…

She didn’t notice the dandelion-like flowers which sprung up wherever her feet trod. Neither did she notice the tiny spores which lifted with the breeze and swirled upwards, beyond the mortal sphere.

* * *

Aragon Silversword watched impassively as Daggar and Tippett brought Kassa’s body, heavily bundled in blankets, on to the deck of the Silver Splashdance. “What do you think you are doing?”

“We’re going to bury her at sea,” said Daggar fiercely. “When we get out deep enough. Any objections?”

“Do what you like,” replied Aragon Silversword, not sounding as if he cared one way or the other.

Daggar and Tippett exchanged glances. “You mean—you’re not going to be Captain now?” said Tippett timidly.

This seemed to genuinely amuse Aragon. “Would you want me to?”

They both looked perplexed. Horrible though a life under the tyrannical hand of Aragon Silversword might be, it seemed a lot less trouble than being left to their own devices. “Well…” started Daggar.

Aragon cut him off with a dismissive gesture. “As soon as we reach the mainland, I’m on my own. You would only slow me down.” He turned on his heel and went below decks, where he locked himself into the Captain’s cabin.

Daggar trudged morosely to the wheel, and gave it a half-hearted spin. Sailing skills weren’t really necessary for this ship, which pretty much did what it was told.

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