By Jo Clayton
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Extra info for The Burning Ground (Shadowsong Trilogy, No 2)
Thann gestured, and Isaho pushed her chair back as quietly as she could manage and stood to sing grace for the meal. Before she was ready, a nightbird, a weh-weleh, sang its three note courting song. It was a good omen. Bazekiyl laughed and snapped thumb against forefinger, Mandall clapped his hands, and Thann whistled a soft breathy appreciation. Isaho giggled. ” She had a strong true voice that sounded older than her small count of years, eleven almost twelve. Bazekiyl closed her hand tight about Thann’s.
And the Blurdslang. overseer. How to get in, though? How to take her place? I… The musical chime of the announcer broke into her thoughts. She got to her feet and sauntered across to the door, expecting another chime, but it didn’t come. She tapped the announcer alive, saw Autumn Rose standing in the hall, her face calm, her hands still. She’s not one to fidget, no, not our Rose. That would be a weakness. She opened the door and stepped back. Autumn Rose nodded at her, walked to the small round table in the middle of the room, and flipped on the block.
Shadith blinked as the door closed. “Well, that was a surprise. ” She set the flake reader down, rubbing at her eyes. “Enough! Swarda was right. ” Quale. Still hard to think of Swardheld by the name he’d adopted. A dozen years or so in the body didn’t weigh very heavily against the millennia they’d spent together as concatenations of forces within the diadem. I’ve got my house, he said. I’ve got my crew. I’ve got my ship. I’m happy with all that, Shadow. But there are times when life goes flat and the sun turns black on me and I don’t know whether breathing is worth the effort it takes.
The Burning Ground (Shadowsong Trilogy, No 2) by Jo Clayton