Winter's End by A. C. Salter

Author:A. C. Salter [Salter, A. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-17T23:00:00+00:00

14

Hero

Peter stumbled from the tavern, his foot catching the bottom of the frame and nearly pitched himself face first into the snow. Giggling, he grasped a wooden support and held tight while the spinning world caught him up. He knew he had drunk too much ale and the fresh air, as icy as it was, only made him giddier. Fumbling, he tried to zip up his coat, his fingers already going numb from the cold and not doing as he commanded. Laughing, he managed to get the zip to his chest and throw the fur lined hood over his head.

“Bloody north,” he muttered as he set out to find somewhere to relieve himself. He took a few staggering steps before the tavern door opened again and a figure tottered out.

“Shintle?” he chuckled as he watched the girl come towards him, pinning her cloak in place. Her lips curled into a smile, pale cheeks reddening in the night air and it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in this cursed country.

Her braids jostled as she skipped over to him, lacing an arm though his and giving him a warm feeling inside his belly.

“Thought I’d best join you. You earth-borns are good at getting lost,” she teased, snuggling closer to his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder. “Da says you’re pretty good at that and not much else.”

Peter laughed. “He might be right, although before the electricity was stolen from Earth, we sent satellites out into space, sending signals down to GPS devices that told us exactly where we were in the world.” He tapped his index finger into his palm, mimicking a hand-held device.

Shintle playfully tapped his hand. “You jest with me again. Earth magic that can send a signal from space to a Gypsy.”

“No, not a Gypsy. GPS or satellite navigation…it doesn’t matter anyway. We lost it. That’s probably why we earth-borns get lost so easily.”

“Well, I’m glad you found Bleat,” she said, pausing. She glanced back at the tavern and then raised herself up onto tip toes, body pressing into his, nose inches from his own.

Peter’s heart began to race, and he suddenly felt hot. Trying to calm his rapid breathing, he closed his eyes, parted his lips slightly, and then began to lose his balance.

“Woah!” he cried, arms wind-milling as he tried to stay up right. The weight of her leaning against him rocked him back. He felt himself falling, reached out to grab a hold onto something, grasped Shintle, and they both fell backwards.

Peter kept his feet peddling in a futile attempt to remain upright, unable to unwrap his arms from around Shintle’s waist and collided with the well.

His head struck the clay roof, jarring his teeth, followed by Shintle’s head striking his chin and making his teeth clash together for a second time. But mercifully they hadn’t fallen over the wall and down the dark opening into the water below.

Peter tasted blood in his mouth, yet the grin didn’t falter – she had tried to kiss him.

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