Short BP&G chapter..

[joegoda]

Dark still curtained the sky. Far to the east, the barest eyelid crack of the dawning day peeked over the horizon. The night birds started their migration to the far reaches of The Ridges, to find their homes among the caves and crags and cliffs of the mountain range. The morning birds hadn't started to wake, but soon would, once the sun showed its face. The twin moons, Lil un and Big un, sat heavy on the other side of the world, not quite gone, but not wanting to show themselves to the daylight.

Pocket was roused from his dreaming by one of the Gants.

"Steam! More Steam!" he said as his eyes refocused from somewhen else to the here and now. He shook the past or the future out of his head and ran his hands over his sparse hair. "That time already?" he asked as he scratched a mite out of his beard.

"It is time," said the Gant. Gants have no name, and generally thought the idea of names an absurd notion. They were creatures of lake mist, of forest shadows, of the not quite things seen lurking in the wood. "If Pewitt," he spat the name, as if it was distasteful to him and perhaps it was, "is to be taken and destroyed, now is the time."

The Gant pointed to the setting moons, and then to the rising sun. "Midpoint between moon set and sunrise is the time when the abilities he has stolen will be the weakest, and most confused. When the morning mist is at its thickest..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Pockets said, painfully pulling himself into a sitting position. "When the mist is the thickest, that's when the world is still between sleep and waking, blah, blah, blah. Is there coffee?"

A small hand thrust a mug into his hands. "Here, Unk. Black and hot, just like you like it."

"Esme!" Pockets said in surprise, taking the steaming mug. "You should be asleep, young lady."

"Aw, Unk," Esme muttered as she kicked at the dirt. "I couldn't sleep knowing what you're about to do, you should know that." She raised her face and looked up at Pockets, tears in her forever-old eyes, tears shining on her very young face. "I'd talk you out of it, if I could, you know."

"Please try, Esme." Pockets sipped noisily at the hot coffee. He pulled on his stockings and slipped on his boots. "Really. Do. You know that I'm basically a coward at heart."

"Nope." Esme sat down on the cot next to her uncle. "This is something you have to do." She looked up at him and said, "I've seen it, and you've seen it. Anything else and the Green Preacher will take over the whole North Continent, even the Village of Shopkeepers."

"I know, I know." Pockets sighed and swallowed the last of the coffee in the mug. He handed the mug to Esme. "I'll be back as soon as I can, darlin' niece." He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "Why couldn't I be unconscious when there's trouble about, like usual."

Esme threw her arms around Pockets' neck and nuzzled against his cheek, her tears running into his beard. "Because, silly," she whispered, "you have to be the hero at least once before you..., you know. And I want to go home, Pockets." She pulled her face away and looked at him with old, old eyes. "I want to go home."

Pockets gently pulled his nieces arms from around his neck. "Oh, like taking care of the Mad Wizard wasn't enough? I almost died there, you know." He put an arm around her and hugged her tight. "Don't you worry, little one. I promise that for you I will be as brave as I can be, without being stupid about it. I'll get you back home."

Esme nodded, silent and grim.

Pockets stood and dusted off his dark colored pantaloons. "Whelp, best be off, before I change my mind." He looked at the four Gants as they stood before him and Esme. "You guys ready?"

"Yes." A single word, spoken with the solemnity of a funeral.

Pockets nodded, and smiled without humor. "Okay, then let's be off." He paused, waiting for the count of two beats of a heart, then turned and stage-whispered to Esme. "No sense of humor, these guys."

Pockets unfolded his cloak of many pockets, turned it inside out so the dark side was on the outside and the colored patches of his pockets was on the inside. He was almost hidden in the mostly dark, and if it hadn't been for his round face and balding head reflecting moonlight, he would have been very, very hard to see.

Picking his niece off the cot so that her legs dangled, he hugged her tight enough that she lost her breath. "See you round, kiddo." His voice was shaking. "Tell your parents they'll see me when they do." He gently placed her on the cot again, and turned to walk away.

"Pockets?" Esme's voice stopped him.

"Esme." Pockets back was to her and his shoulders lifted and dropped. "I gotta go now. If you say anything soft and nice to me right now, I'm gonna bust out crying, and I really don't want to do that in front of the Gants."

Esme hopped off the cot and from a pocket of her nightgown, she pulled a wad of dark leathery cloth. Running up to where Pockets stood, she shoved the cloth in his hand.

"For your head, Unk," she said sounding very, very young and very, very small. "So you won't get a head cold."

"Thanks, kiddo." Pockets didn't turn around, and his voice sounded as soft as hers did.

"And it'll keep the light from your head from telling the bad guy where you are." Esme pulled her voice from an older version of herself. "Go kick some green butt, Unk!"

Pockets snorted softly. "Always with the bald jokes. If it's not a bald joke, it's a short joke."

He unfolded the hat and jammed it on his head. It was a rough estimation of a scholar's cap, not quite expertly sewn by five year old fingers. He tied the dangling chin leathers together behind his beard. He turned around so that Esme could see that it fit well, and only the beaming smile on his face reflected the firelight from the smoldering campfire. He nodded at her, even as the tears threatened to brim over his eyelids.

"You heard the lady," he said to the Gants, setting his teeth and letting a fire come to his eyes. "Let's go explain to this green bastard how the world really works."

Comments

[shackrlu.livejournal.com]

*sniff* Now I'm starting to worry!

[capi.livejournal.com]

"It is time," said the Gant. Gants have no name, and generally thought the idea of names an absurd notion. They were creatures of lake mist, of forest shadows, of the not quite things seen lurking in the wood. ((standard practice here is to use dashes in such cases.. making it look like this --> They were creatures of lake mist, of forest shadows, of the not-quite-things-seen-lurking-in-the-wood. or at least up to lurking... *LOL* YMMV, as ever))
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Picking his niece off the cot so that her legs dangled, he hugged her tight enough that she lost her breath. "See you round, kiddo." (( again with convention... it is usually put as "See you 'round" so that the reader knows instantly that you have shortened "around" and doesn't have to work too hard to find it out.))
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oh BRAVO!!! BRAVO!!!!!!!! Ready to GO, SIR!!!!! WHOOOP!!!