Another Slow Week

Not much to say on the writing front this week. Again, packing and finishing up the semester seem to have made my words all dry up. I get restless every time I sit down to work, and it's tough pounding out at least a few paragraphs a day. Oh, well. I'm almost done.

I did get rewrite my query letter, though. That's always fun and exciting.

This week, your bit of fiction is the beginning of an old, old story that I'm reworking. Enjoy.

“Get down!” Ellianna T’fos shouted as she leapt from her hiding spot. She easily cleared the man’s head, landing heavily in the mulch. Dead leaves and debris scattered from the place her boots touched down. Without a moment of thought, she drew her sword to parry the  attack aimed at her head. Steel sang against steel. She moved one foot back a step to brace her against the force of the blow. Recovering quickly, she forced her attacker’s blade back at him and followed with a quick thrust at his gut. 

He barely managed to knock her blade aside in time. 

“This really isn’t—” The man behind her, who had been the target of the attack, spoke in a soft, pleading voice. Until the attacker’s dagger landed in the tree behind him, inches from his hooded head. 

“Shut up,” Ellianna hissed, ducking a blow aimed at her head. She rolled into her opponent’s guard and drove her blade up, into his stomach. If he was what she thought he was, her strike would do nothing but slow him down. Worth a shot, at least. True to her instinct, the man simply staggered back, cursing. She felt a sharp tug at her chest, the center of the magic that kept her alive, as the wound in his stomach knitted itself together again. So he was an Andra, after all. Damn it. That would make things much more difficult.