Just give me her name. I will tell the elders in Solara that she is dead. And if she is not already dead, she soon will be. Or worse yet, if she is young enough, they may raise her as one of their own.”
“We both are headed for the same destination. What could it hurt to join forces?” He crossed his arms. A vast silence bridged the gap between them. “If you will not help me, then I will do it on my own.” He stared into her aquamarine eyes. At any other time, he might find them entrancing.
She crossed her arms under her ample breasts and raised her eyebrows.
“There is something else,” he admitted under her questing. “She is a Senser. In three days, the eve of the Artemise lunar ritual shall come to pass. She will be sacrificed and Solara will feel the loss. We must save her.”
She frowned at Venil, uncrossing her arms. He could tell he had found a soft spot in her tough veneer, though she continued to act otherwise. “What makes you think I care for the welfare of the cities?”
He stretched an arm toward the black mouth of the cave entrance, palm facing upward. “You bring these men from various Artemise camps to the cities, adding to their population and workforces. These are not the actions of an uncaring soul.”
She kicked at a rock on the ground and feigned extreme interest in a fixed spot in the dirt that stretched between them. Shrugging her shoulders, she responded, “They have got to go somewhere.”
“Help me with this,” he said. “With your knowledge of the camps and my link to Kelsey, it will not be so danger filled as you think.”
Her head snapped up and as Venil noted the surprised look on Gant’s face as he realized his mistake.
“What do you mean, link?” she asked.
An outrush of breath escaped him. “As I said, the girl is a Senser. She has the ability to speak with her mind. When we get close enough to the camp, she and I will be able to converse with one another in this manner. We can use this to great adavantage.”
“Personally, I think those Sensers are freaks,” Gant said. “But you are my friend, Venil, so I will help you with this.” He held out his arm.
Venil took it into his own and gave the other man’s arm a firm squeeze. “Thank you, Gant.” Then he turned to Raelynn. “And what of you?”
“I think I can help you,” she said. “But we will have to move soon. They will be too fortified during the day and as you said, the ritual is in just a few days. I do still have a responsibility to these men, though,” she pointed to the mass of men. “They cannot wait around while we see to your girl Senser. Thus, I have a condition that must be met if you desire my assistance.”
“Name it.”
The Great Exodus will continue in Issue 15.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Steve Coate is a speculative fiction writer who lives in sunny South Florida, where he struggles daily for dominion of the keyboard with his possessive tabby, Bigby. His fiction has also appeared in Bloodbond magazine, Ray Gun Revival, the Nightfall Publications anthology From Shadows & Nightmares, Stupefying Stories: SHOWCASE, and The Western Online. For updates on his fiction, follow Steve on Twitter @stevecoate. Readers can also drop him a line at [email protected]
Dark Chocolate
By Frances Silversmith
My friend Annie once called me a witch—which may well have been dead accurate.
That was during a time when we weren't friends, which was Rick's fault. Rick, the Adonis, perfect in every way. My dream-lover. On the day he chose me over Annie, I trembled with elation, stunned and disbelieving at the same time.
Did he bewitch both Annie and me? I don't know. He never showed an affinity to the black arts, but he did seem to take a remarkable amount of enjoyment from watching Annie and me fight.
~
In the morning of one memorable Valentine’s Day, Annie waved me into her driveway when I drove by her house. She offered me a treat from a pink chocolate box,
“We both are headed for the same destination. What could it hurt to join forces?” He crossed his arms. A vast silence bridged the gap between them. “If you will not help me, then I will do it on my own.” He stared into her aquamarine eyes. At any other time, he might find them entrancing.
She crossed her arms under her ample breasts and raised her eyebrows.
“There is something else,” he admitted under her questing. “She is a Senser. In three days, the eve of the Artemise lunar ritual shall come to pass. She will be sacrificed and Solara will feel the loss. We must save her.”
She frowned at Venil, uncrossing her arms. He could tell he had found a soft spot in her tough veneer, though she continued to act otherwise. “What makes you think I care for the welfare of the cities?”
He stretched an arm toward the black mouth of the cave entrance, palm facing upward. “You bring these men from various Artemise camps to the cities, adding to their population and workforces. These are not the actions of an uncaring soul.”
She kicked at a rock on the ground and feigned extreme interest in a fixed spot in the dirt that stretched between them. Shrugging her shoulders, she responded, “They have got to go somewhere.”
“Help me with this,” he said. “With your knowledge of the camps and my link to Kelsey, it will not be so danger filled as you think.”
Her head snapped up and as Venil noted the surprised look on Gant’s face as he realized his mistake.
“What do you mean, link?” she asked.
An outrush of breath escaped him. “As I said, the girl is a Senser. She has the ability to speak with her mind. When we get close enough to the camp, she and I will be able to converse with one another in this manner. We can use this to great adavantage.”
“Personally, I think those Sensers are freaks,” Gant said. “But you are my friend, Venil, so I will help you with this.” He held out his arm.
Venil took it into his own and gave the other man’s arm a firm squeeze. “Thank you, Gant.” Then he turned to Raelynn. “And what of you?”
“I think I can help you,” she said. “But we will have to move soon. They will be too fortified during the day and as you said, the ritual is in just a few days. I do still have a responsibility to these men, though,” she pointed to the mass of men. “They cannot wait around while we see to your girl Senser. Thus, I have a condition that must be met if you desire my assistance.”
“Name it.”
The Great Exodus will continue in Issue 15.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Steve Coate is a speculative fiction writer who lives in sunny South Florida, where he struggles daily for dominion of the keyboard with his possessive tabby, Bigby. His fiction has also appeared in Bloodbond magazine, Ray Gun Revival, the Nightfall Publications anthology From Shadows & Nightmares, Stupefying Stories: SHOWCASE, and The Western Online. For updates on his fiction, follow Steve on Twitter @stevecoate. Readers can also drop him a line at [email protected]
Dark Chocolate
By Frances Silversmith
My friend Annie once called me a witch—which may well have been dead accurate.
That was during a time when we weren't friends, which was Rick's fault. Rick, the Adonis, perfect in every way. My dream-lover. On the day he chose me over Annie, I trembled with elation, stunned and disbelieving at the same time.
Did he bewitch both Annie and me? I don't know. He never showed an affinity to the black arts, but he did seem to take a remarkable amount of enjoyment from watching Annie and me fight.
~
In the morning of one memorable Valentine’s Day, Annie waved me into her driveway when I drove by her house. She offered me a treat from a pink chocolate box,
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