Here's the to my self-edited version:
https://smroffey.wixsite.com/smroffey/single-post/2019/11/14/Writer-In-Motion-Week-2-Evayolins-Ghosts-Self-EditAnd here is the written version for those who simply want to read the finished product:
Evayolin scraped the wooden spoon on the bottom of the cauldron, mouth watering at the scent of pike stew wafting through the small, one room cottage she shared with Da. She sprinkled a few flakes of crushed herb on top so Da wouldn?t comment on the lack of mussels. She?d had a slow workday.
She glanced at the door, wiping her sweaty hand on her black hosen.
Normally, Evayolin wouldn?t worry. Da had a habit of drinking hard and stumbling in during the wee hours. But it was the sevenmoon. The one thing they had in common with the rest of Pelori Nepal was their steadfast belief in tradition, and dinner on the sevenmoon was tradition.
A cold, unnatural draft blew across the tiny room. Evayolin wrapped a soft blanket around her woolen tunic and held back a shiver. Frost covered the mirror above the hearth, and what began as a low mewl rose in urgency until it shook the cauldron, and bits of broth sloshed over the edge to hiss in the fire below.
?Quiet, now.? She?d put up with Jai?s howling since his death two annum past. But tonight it contained a melancholy note that rose the fine hairs on her forearms. The back of her neck tingled, and Jai?s miserable face floated before her. Something was wrong.
A low growl traveled up her back to her shoulders. She spun around. Blood seeped from Da?s neck, and his eyes burned with a fury she knew all too well. She?d seen it in every spirit who?d tracked her down.
?Oh, Da,? she wailed, slapping a hand to her mouth. Evayolin bit down on grief, an enemy she?d fought before?when her mother left them for the call of the Cold Sea; and when the owner of The Silken Whisper killed Jai. Her mother leaving, that had left a raw, broken place inside her. But letting Loen M?Kree live after he took her brother, well, that left her with a hole filled with fire and piss and maybe a chipped tooth or two.
The one thing that kept her going through those dark times was knowing Da needed her. Tears welled behind her eyes.
Da glared. If he could, he?d shake her. But while ghosts could make noises and rumble things and keep her awake all night, they couldn?t touch her.
A glint of gold and an image of a bald-headed warrior peeked from Da?s raging mouth. A Rizen coin?
?What happened to you, Da??
Images bombarded her. Her mother, Jai. And Da, head pulled back, a pasty white hand with a green-stoned ring slashing a knife across his throat. Evayolin, standing on a ship with Loen M?Kree.
?No.? She threw a hand in front of her face and closed her eyes, as if that would stop the images in her mind.
But they only flew faster, her mother, Loen M?Kree. Her mother. Loen M?Kree.
Evayolin wished ghosts could speak. For some reason, they often sought her out to fulfill their dying wishes. They expected her to puzzle out exactly what their tantrums meant even if it killed her. Da was no exception.
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Evayolin hid her glare under the brim of her flat cap and pushed her way through the clamorous throng bustling along the pier. Fishmongers called to one another as they unloaded their wares, the slap of the slippery trout they tossed to the dock a base counterpoint to the rise and fall of their musical language.
She didn?t mind the putrid smell of last week?s catch bubbling in the water. Da always smelled like that, like sour perfume, an honest scent for a hardworking seasnatcher. The ?snatchers caught what came looking for those rotting bits of fish, and her Da was better at it than anyone in Pelori Nepal. He had the scars to prove it. Had.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and hefted her sack over her shoulder, trudging on toward her greatest failure. Her stomach shifted and tucked, leaving an empty pit in its wake. This was the last place she wanted to be.
She glanced at the prow of the Silken Whisper, growled, and pulled her hat lower. It was hard enough keeping a low profile with her own face staring down at her.
The figurehead resembled a woman reaching to the sky, torch in hand. The finished wood captured every detail: each strand of her short, choppy hair, the long, tapered fingers wrapped around the molding on the bow. The ship?s designer even got her upturned, pug nose right.
?Ho, there!? M?Kree called.
Evayolin paused on the gangplank, hatred burning from her eyes. She might be here begging but Death still sat between them.
M?Kree peered down at her with his Rizen father?s dark, cat-like eyes, his expression full of shock and a hint of pain.
She didn?t give a damn about his pain. Jai?s ghost haunted her nightly, trying to impress his last message upon her. His began and ended with Loen M?Kree. She?d spent two annum blocking out Jai?s howling, but now that Da showed up, she had no choice but to kill two birds with one big rock.
?Evvie,? the nitwit began.
She hissed at him, jutting her chin at the prow. Everyone knew Evvie Silk was the inspiration for The Silken Whisper.
M?Kree didn?t like being reprimanded, but she?d forgotten until his narrow face tightened and his lips pressed together.
?What is it you want aboard the Silken Whisper, ma?am?? He removed his gold-trimmed, tricorn hat and bowed at her with a flourish, sharp movements and snarling tone mocking.
To be rid of my ghosts. Shame twisted her guts, her loyalty to Jai warring with the memory of two full sevenmoons without one ghost, and all because of M?Kree.
But sweet, dizzying kisses weren?t on the menu this time.
Evayolin looked around, but her dead family were the only ones watching.
?I need to find the pirate you call The Scourge of Salla Boen. My mother.?
Topic: Evayolin's Ghosts (Self-Edited Version) (Read 587 times)