Today Her Ladyship's Quest welcomes a guest. Cynthia Ravinski author of the emotobook Lingering in the Woods shares an excerpt and illustration from her story.
Lingering in the Woods http://amzn.to/HsxZWE
By Cynthia Ravinski
Why is it
taking so
long? Usko
shivered again. The blankets didn’t warm him.
They were soaked
with sweat. He gasped, the air
burned in his throat then ripped into his chest. Fever baked his
body
dry, yet chilled him through.
Snot incessantly ran from his nose. And
his
head throbbed as if a horse had kicked it. If
he’d had the strength, he would have smiled.
He’d deliberately insulted Kipu in a ritual the last dark moon.
Not
even his mother, with all
her power, could drive away a curse from the goddess of
disease. Yet it was
taking so
long, his body slowly wasted. If the disease didn’t take his life soon, he’d perish from weakness instead.
Another cough racked
his chest. He gagged. The phlegm that erupted from his throat slid out
of his mouth and dripped onto his stringy beard. It had
never filled out. They said he’d
never be a true man,
that the sparse, reddish wires that grew from his chin proved
that he’d never be like the rest.
“My boy,”
Satu said as she clutched her
son’s arms. Kneeling beside his bed,
her raven hair flowed over her shoulder, the tips brushing the floor. “Why aren’t you curing yourself? Don’t leave me
here alone. It’s almost winter. You
have the power.” Her voice carried on
in
a squeaky wail, her
youthful face contorted as she sobbed.
Usko
knew she only cared for her
ageless looks, but they wouldn’t keep her warm come
winter. Let her reap what she’s sewn. “Mother,” he coughed. His tongue so
dry
he could hardly rasp, “Remember what I asked.”
Her face smoothed and she withdrew to pace the small space of her
hut, her shadow
growing and shrinking, caught in the dance of the fire. She began singing. He knew the song. It wasn’t
just a humble tune. She was trying to sing him out of
his
illness with a magical rune song against fever.
It was too late for that, and he just wanted her to stop her noise. But he said nothing lest she
change runes to lend his body strength. That was
the
last thing he wanted.
This discomfort was
temporary, and nothing compared to what his mother’s
kind had done to him. Two decades he’d lived here in exile, kept from his father, forced
to live with this
woman.
No one else welcomed him with anything but curses and stones. Demon spawn they’d called
him.
And the spirits of his father’s line called to him. As soon as his body rotted, he’d be reborn into his father’s kingdom. Walking with the rest of his kind,
he’d find his place.
His
mother’s song
faded in the middle of a verse. Good.
She’s finally realized there is no hope.
Darkness crept over him,
the
fire dying. He just needed to be patient. He’d discover so many secrets. It couldn’t possibly last more than another night.
“Usko? No. Nooo!”
Has mother gone outside? What could she need now? He didn’t care anymore. Numbness
spread through his body as his blood ceased to flow. Yes. Gray flickering blurred his vision.
Vitality seeped out of
his
husk and he slipped
away from the small cottage on the taiga.
---
Satu had gone far enough. She stopped
the horse under
a scrub pine. It
was
suitable for
Usko’s
interment. No
spirits had claimed this grove,
and the tribe-folk never came out this far.
She worked quickly. This task
needed finishing before
dark. Over and over again, she buried
the
head of her shovel in the rocky dirt. When her hair tangled about the shovel, she pushed it
back. When sweat ran out
of her hair and down
her temple, she wiped it away with the back of
her hands, smearing dirt across her cheeks.
She dug and
dug. Never mind that he’d asked to be left in the sun.
The
place for her boy would be far from the ground that good folk walked.
---
Finally,
dirt-smeared
and itching with sweat, she judged the hole would hold safe the body
of her son. The sky lightened and blushed. The sun traveled too fast this day. Widdershins she
circled the grave,
while she sang a rune. She floated linden leaves down into the grave,
making a bed on which to lay her enchantment. She dug
into her pouch, a pinch of
the
dried grit of a distant sea; she tossed it on the leaves. Sung and
seasoned, the pit was
ready
to accept its ward.
She turned to the sledge. He still had a damned smile on his waxy face. He lay in his furs,
bow slung over his shoulder, quiver full. She’d
folded a handful of cloudberries into a cloth and tucked it
into his belt. At any moment he could spring up
to
hunt for her dinner,
but his eyes were wide and dull. He thought
he’d gotten what he wanted, freed his soul of
its human limitations. How sanguine of him.
She frowned. He’d left her to face winter alone. She stroked the posy at her belt; its power
warmed her fingers. She’d show him what he got for
leaving her alone.
Like Adj, Usko’s demon father, the spirits of the land
had abandoned her. Neither the spirits
nor he would ever give her the comfort she wanted. She was truly alone and if the runes were right, a long, cold winter came her way.
“Ingrate,” she snarled and spat on his face. “You left me alone.” She grabbed his ankles and dragged him from the sledge. “You were all I had here.” She kicked him into his grave.
He thudded into his new home, face up.
Oh
well. Too much trouble to climb back
down there to twist him around.
She clutched the posy and began circling the occupied grave. Winding a red cord
round the stems, she sang the names of her chosen plants. Blessed thistle and green juniper sprigs for
purification, betony with its purple blooms and birch twigs
to
dispel evil, and
nightshade and willow switches to make Usko
forget his life. Reaching the end of
song and cord, she twisted the knot. Reaching over the hole, its thorny twigs bit into her hands, as her son
had bitten into her life. Good
riddance. With a rustle,
the
bundle landed on his chest. He’d had
his chance to stay with her. Now she’d
be sure he never went anywhere again.
No
one but her would know his remains were here. She covered
him with the forest’s floor,
returning it to the way it was
before she’d come.
You’ve just read
a sample of the Emotobook Single, Lingering in the Woods. Written by
Cynthia Ravinski. Illustrated by
Loran Skinkis. Edited by
Alexis Jenny.
Lingering
in the woods is available at all major ebook reatailers including
This post continues my Magic Appreciation Blog Tour. My last
post was at The Summer Sleeper. http://bit.ly/R1cOyw
Biography
Cynthia Ravinski writes Emotobooks, among other
things. From her coastal northern setting she wrenches language into stories.
She’s been an athlete, a co-pilot, and a world traveler. She’s basked in the
light of great poets, and has been educated to high degrees at UMaine
Farmington and Seton Hill University. To say she is obsessed with drinking tea
is an understatement.
Find Cynthia Ravinski at her Blog www.cynthiaravinski.com
On facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CynthiaRavinskiAuthor
And twitter @CynthiaRavinski
I hope everyone enjoyed this emotobook excerpt. Check out my website for even more information on this new medium of fiction.
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