Flora
Flora can’t tell if Kaisel's playing or if terror really runs a cold finger up his spine—the eyeholes give her the world in little crescents, and all she catches is the jolt, the stammered g-g-ghost, the helpless flapping of elbows made more tragic by the finger trap. Either way, a grin breaks wild beneath the cotton; she bites it down, snickers snagging in her throat like pearls on lace.
The stand erupts in a bright clangour of glass, a hundred small notes colliding. A nearby merchant—long-suffering, salt-cured—curses the soldier under his breath. "It’s a trick, moron," he declares, and reaches with exasperated authority to yank the sheet.
The sheet comes away in his fist and drops empty to the stones.
"Wh—?" he manages, the rest swallowed by the crowd’s startled hush. Where Flora stood is only heat and air; the queen, of course, is invisible.
What she carries is invisible too—until the instant she reaches from nowhere, quick as a thought, and tucks a small, cool life down the front of Kaisel's shirt. The frog blinks into visibility as it leaves her fingers, a damp flash against sun-warm skin; then it decides the shirt is a swamp worth conquering and kicks for freedom, springing and scrabbling and thumping tiny heartbeats against fabric.
The stand erupts in a bright clangour of glass, a hundred small notes colliding. A nearby merchant—long-suffering, salt-cured—curses the soldier under his breath. "It’s a trick, moron," he declares, and reaches with exasperated authority to yank the sheet.
The sheet comes away in his fist and drops empty to the stones.
"Wh—?" he manages, the rest swallowed by the crowd’s startled hush. Where Flora stood is only heat and air; the queen, of course, is invisible.
What she carries is invisible too—until the instant she reaches from nowhere, quick as a thought, and tucks a small, cool life down the front of Kaisel's shirt. The frog blinks into visibility as it leaves her fingers, a damp flash against sun-warm skin; then it decides the shirt is a swamp worth conquering and kicks for freedom, springing and scrabbling and thumping tiny heartbeats against fabric.
I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
Code stolen from Queen Sky
