Now that I've saved the universe from supervillains, I'm back to my regular writing schedule. I feel so much better. I was totally burned out. Too much going on with my day job, too much going on at home, too much going on with writing. Such is life!
I was thinking that maybe I will post small installments of my first book, and people can read along and tell me what they think. Writing is such a subjective thing, and when people read my stuff I get the most interesting comments, often about things I didn't think of or angles that help me to clarify something. They're also amazing at catching stupid typos. I swear you go blind after reading this stuff 50 times in a row.
Anyway, here is Chapter One of The Shape of Her Heart. This is a fantasy romance with paranormal elements, a full sized book based in an alternate Earth. Read away and tell me what you think!
THE SHAPE OF HER HEART
12,261 A.D.
10,225 Post-Apocalypse
Chapter One
The rough-hewn stone of the courthouse walls radiated a steady, earthy pulse, one that Quoi couldn’t hear in the face of the coming storm. In frustration, he slammed his hand against the cool, irregular surface and closed his eyes. He soaked up the spirit of the granite, preparing him for battle. His spirit would be like the stone, not calm or steady, but unyielding in the face of danger.
His honor wouldn’t allow him anything less. Whatever happened today, he’d be damned if he let them send his best friend Rasa to a long, bitter life in the local jail.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, bidding his energy to settle. He removed his hand from the wall, wincing at the handprint left clearly in the stone, his shape outlined in a shallow depression. He usually had more control, but today his Gift churned like his state of mind, pouring out of him whether he wanted it to or not.
Hopefully no one would notice the imprint until he was long gone.
He switched his attention to the proceedings, appreciating the advantage of his height as he peered over the crowd at Rasa’s slumped shoulders and bowed head. He saw the Elders had tied Rasa’s hands and feet. Ridiculous. Were they really that afraid of the man?
Quoi battled his temper, forcing himself to stay put. The situation sucked, but starting a fight would help nothing.
The news of Rasa’s arrest and subsequent accusations of kidnapping and murder had set Quoi reeling. They'd grown up together. He knew Rasa better than he knew himself – the man would never do anything this bad unless forced.
But the truth remained a mystery. The court deliberated in secret, leaving Quoi helpless, furious and impatient. He prayed for a merciful verdict, but judging from Rasa's stooped posture, he feared the worst.
He drew a reluctant breath of stale air and wished the Elders would get it over with already. The townspeople fanned themselves and craned like vultures. They were dressed in their finest, the men in waistcoats and the women in their best dresses, as if attending a festival. It was nauseating.
Quoi eyed them with a tinge of contempt, his innocence stripped by the hate and vindictiveness on their faces. He had thought them good people, but prejudice against Rasa’s kind had been waiting in the background, ready to rear its ugly head at the first excuse. They were afraid of Rasa, afraid of his Gift, and all too willing to believe the worst. Even Rasa’s family had abandoned him at the first sign of trouble. Quoi couldn’t find it in himself to forgive such betrayal.
Up front a heavy oak door opened and the Elders filed in. The crowd stirred and murmured at the sight. The Elders wore full crimson court robes - unusual for a town given to informalities. Clearly they meant to put on a show.
The Elders wouldn't make eye contact with the crowd as they lined up behind the dais and sat down in high, mahogany chairs.
Head Elder Printin remained standing and regarded the people with a forbidding expression until the whispering died down. He was a stocky, powerfully built man, and although he was famous for his rather hideous appearance, his size gave him a presence and command no one could deny.
Under the force of Printin’s black stare, a hush descended on the room. Quoi wiped sweat from his forehead, willing them to finish this farce. Once they announced the verdict, he would be free to move, free to take back the control. He resented being at the mercy of others.
Printin scowled at Rasa, silent and grave. Rasa lifted his head to meet his gaze but quickly retreated, unable to withstand the man’s heavy stare. Quoi’s temper kicked up a notch. His friend normally exuded strength and mischievousness, not this aura of weakened defeat.
The Elder’s booming, grating voice rang straight to the back of the room.
"Rasa Gerwen, the court has heard your testimony and the testimony of the witnesses. We are appalled. There haven’t been such horrific crimes committed in our township for hundreds of years. Your actions bring great dishonor to us all.”
The Elder paused, letting the gravity of his words sink into the crowd. Quoi shifted on his feet, livid. The verdict was obvious. He didn’t need to hear the rest. Quoi repressed the urge to explode in protest, determined to give them every chance to act honorably before he intervened, but his gut told him Rasa had no chance for justice.
Printin cleared his throat, the twinkle in his eye at odds with the grim weight of the matter at hand. The man was clearly enjoying himself.
"The charges are as follows: using your Gift to Track eight Metal Shape Elders, conspiring with an unknown enemy to kidnap them, withholding information about who these people are, and resisting arrest."
Quoi winced at the list, disturbed that someone had the power to drive his friend to such desperation.
To the very end, Rasa had refused to reveal those who stood behind him, leaving the Elders no choice but to prosecute him. Quoi thanked the gods his people did not believe in execution, because if they did he had no doubt of the verdict.
Rasa was in enough trouble as it was. Unless Quoi helped him escape, he’d be sent to jail and forced to spend the rest of his life in a dank, dark cell, hidden away from the sun and trees he loved so much.
He clenched his fists, angry and bitter that his people were so quick to believe the simple answer, so quick to assume Rasa's guilt. If only he could talk to him and find out what was going on. Quoi crossed his arms across his chest as the Elder continued.
"As you well know, Rasa, it is considered the highest crime to use your Gift for immoral purposes. We are all utterly shocked with how you have chosen to use yours. After much deliberation, the Elder court finds you guilty as charged on all accounts.”
The room erupted in cheers. Clearly public opinion had swung against Rasa long before the trial. Printin raised his hand, commanding their silence. Quoi narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Printin. The man was enjoying this, and Quoi was dying to know why.
“Before deciding your fate, we called in a Tracker to hunt for the missing Elders, but he couldn’t find them,” Printin continued, “We can only assume they are dead. According to the edicts of our ancestors, executing you is out of the question. However, due to the severity of your crimes, you are sentenced to life at Lumax prison. It is only fitting that you spend the rest of your days in hell, with criminals, thieves and murderers as your only companions."
Quoi went rigid with shock. He’d expected Rasa to be sentenced to life in the local jail, not this. He fought the urge to barrel through and beat some sense into the Elders. Lumax prison was reserved for the most hardened, murderous, psychopathic criminals, and security was so tight even its location was secret. Rasa would for all intents and purposes cease to exist - not that he would live long once interred. He wouldn't stand a chance.
The Elders were tucking Rasa under the rug and merely leaving the nasty business of execution to somebody else.
Screw this.
Quoi shoved through the crowd, heedless of the protests. Elder Printin’s gaze latched on to him, and he shot Quoi a warning look. Quoi ignored it.
"This is wrong, and you know it!" Quoi bellowed, letting it reverberate around the hall. "All of you know it!” He swung his arm around, pointing to everyone in the room. “You’ve known Rasa his whole life. He is a good man, and here you are, celebrating as you send him to his death.”
Quoi shot Rasa a desperate look. “Rasa, come on, tell them what happened to you.”
Rasa’s usually warm brown eyes were alarmingly dull and lifeless. His eyelids fluttered closed, and he hung his head, refusing to answer. Quoi hauled him to his feet.
"Rasa, we can fix this. Just tell them who made you do these things. Tell them everything, and they will help you."
Even as he said the words, he wasn’t sure they were true. Rasa’s ability to Track was a rare Gift, misunderstood and viewed with suspicion. A Tracker could find almost anyone, anywhere, and the potential for abuse was very real. People were all too ready to shut him away rather than deal with their own fears.
Quoi concentrated on the soothing energy of the stone floor beneath his feet, letting it seep into him, trying to settle his rage. He wanted to beat the crap out of Rasa, willing to try anything to get him to respond.
Two men approached Quoi from behind and began to drag him away. He twisted loose, spun, and uppercut one of them under the chin, knocking the man out. Townsmen poured in to help, securing his arms, then one put a forearm around his neck to cut off his air. He fought to free himself, but the men grimly held on. Quoi had worked in the fields all his life and was a strong man, but even he couldn't do much if he couldn't breathe. Black spots appeared in front of his eyes, his head grew light.
They hauled him through the courtroom towards the exit, wanting to avoid further disruption in front of the townsfolk.
Time was running out.
Quoi bucked and hooked a leg behind an ankle, bringing one of the men down. They both fell like deadweight, and Quoi let his weight fall hard and heavy, eliciting a sharp crack as the man's head hit the floor. Quoi sucked in a deep breath and his vision snapped into focus. He heaved himself up, rotated away from the group and raised his hands, palms out, signaling his wish not to fight.
He wasn't done with them by a long shot, but he’d be no help to Rasa holed up in the local jail. Those orchestrating the kidnappings were still out there. They would merely find another Tracker and continue with their plans. He had to free Rasa before he reached Lumax, then Track their enemies before they kidnapped anyone else.
The guards hesitated, unsure of his true intention. Quoi shot Rasa a this-is-not-over look and bowed jauntily to the crowd. He glanced at the stone walls, taking strength from the granite’s clean power, then passed out of the courthouse into the blessedly fresh air.
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