Anyway, in this excerpt (which may get cut from the final) Keir has decided the middle of the night is the best time to face his fear...
The sea called to him. It hissed and whispered over the sound of
Quin’s breathing, over his own heart beating a rhythm in his head. Moonlight
clothed the hut’s interior in silver light, fiercely bright. He lay on his back
and stared at the ghostly outlines of the furniture.
Quin slept
curled in a huddle, her back to him. For a fleeting instant, he considered
waking her, but decided against it. This was something he wanted to do alone.
He slipped from
the bed and reclaimed his sarong, knotting it around his waist. The chill sea
breeze stroked his skin, and he shivered at its touch. With a last glance at
Quin, he pushed aside the canvas covering of the hut door and stepped outside.
The beach lay
empty, a dark, glistening ribbon scattered with weed and shells abandoned by
the withdrawing tide. Silver tipped the edges of the black waves beyond. No
sounds came from any of the other huts, but a few lone lanterns glowed along
the walkways joining them, and on the docks close to S’rano’s ship. The sea’s
whisper rose above the rustling of the trees behind the village. The white disc
of the moon glared down at him. He stared up at it for an instant, following
the pattern of craters and scars on its surface. Metraxi’s single satellite
looked lonely compared to the double moons he had known on Salusan.
His gaze returned
to the sea. The waves beckoned him, teasing as they swept in and out. Just a
few days earlier, he had given into their embrace and tried to drown himself.
Could he step back into the water? Did he dare?
His heart raced,
his mouth gone dry. The sea lapped at his toes, and he staggered back, the cold
shock shooting through every nerve. It set him gasping, squeezed his throat as
if he were drowning all over again. His knees shook.
I cannot go back into the water.
The realization
snatched the remaining air from his lungs. The thought of stepping back into
the sea, trusting himself to the cold water even for a moment left him shaking.
His skin prickled, his fingers gone numb.
Coward. He fisted his
hands, sucked in a breath. Water is no
monster to fear, no threat.
He took a step
forward, forcing himself to move. Cold,
wet sand sucked at his feet. The dark sea became a yawning void beneath him
that threatened to swallow him.
Love the foreboding atmosphere, almost as if the sea is a creature lying in wait for him. Nice snippet, Pippa!
ReplyDeleteLovely snippet. And he's right to fear the sea. It is itself, beholden to no-one. It's not trying to lure him.
ReplyDelete(I'll shut up now)