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Trapping the Wind (Tamora Pierce fic)

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  • Lisa Brown
    Wow. It s been... two years since I posted anything? Or wrote anything that didn t have to be handed in for assessment. So I figured I d start the new year
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 1, 2005
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      Wow. It's been... two years since I posted anything? Or wrote anything
      that didn't have to be handed in for assessment. So I figured I'd
      start the new year with this. Tamora Pierce fic, because Tris is cool.

      Disclaimer: Tris doesn't belong to me. No profit being made. Blah blah blah.

      Trapping the Wind

      Tris ran the piece of cord through her fingers. She'd begged it off
      Sandry earlier in the afternoon. Red, for the south, for the warm
      winds that came in smelling of dry, parched earth and telling of heat.
      For the winds that brought the summer's warmth and the storms that
      grew far out over the Pebbled Sea. Red, for the gentle breezes that
      lifted the harsh heat of the summer, bringing relief in their passage.
      She knew the south wind.

      She slipped the cord into a pocket in her skirt, grubbed under her bed
      for her shoes. She stopped, wiped her spectacles and flipped through
      the book in front of her, frowning. It didn't mention anything about
      this being overly dangerous. Of course, it also said that the
      mimanders spent years learning to do this. She really wished it gave a
      little more detail than that. Did they have to prepare the cord with
      anything? Did they have to tie it in a specific *sort* of knot? Tris
      shook her head. There was only one way to find out, short of getting
      onto a Trader ship and seeing for herself. And no Trader would let
      her, a merchant girl, and worse, a mage (and therefore either
      potential competition, or a spy. Or both, as the Chandlers ran
      shipping from Ninver through to Summersea - a lucrative route followed
      by Traders and merchants for over a hundred years.) *ever* examine

      Tris laced her shoes and hurried downstairs. "No. You can't come with
      me today." Little Bear whined and crouched at her feet, tail wagging
      furiously, half grown and still gangly as puppy. He'd gotten so much
      bigger than they'd ever expected. "I'll walk you when I get back. I
      promise." He settled down on again on his mat beside the door.

      The wind was strong up on the wall. It caught at her hair and skirts
      and tugged at the wide brimmed straw hat hanging down her back on its
      string. It was a warm, playful, in spite of its strength and grown
      happy during its run over the sea. Tris frowned and closed her eyes
      looking for storms in all directions but most carefully out over the
      ocean. Things were calm today and would remain hot and still for the
      next three or four days.


      She caught a small breeze and swirled it around her in a circle,
      letting her magic follow it, shielding the area she wanted to work in
      in as well as she could. She'd gotten good at shielding things since
      she'd come to Winding Circle. She'd had to.

      At least the guards all knew her well enough now to know not to bother
      asking her if she had permission to be on the walls. Niko had gotten
      her blanket permission to be there during the winter, in time for her
      to spend hours experiencing the power of winter storms and gales.

      Tris called an even smaller breeze than the one she'd just used to
      her, let it swirl around the inside of the shield while she untangled
      the cord, laid it down on ledge in front of her. She licked her lips
      nervously and took a deep breath. She really hoped this didn't end
      like that day on the beach had. It was just a little bit of wind,
      hardly strong enough to shake the branches on a tree.

      Frowning, she curled the breeze, twisted it, sent it down into its new
      pattern, its new channel, telling it that the string was the same as
      the air currents it previously followed. That wasn't hard. She'd been
      controlling breezes for months now, asking them to go where she
      wanted, follow the patterns she set for them. It behaved, sliding into
      the string and out the other end.

      It needed a knot. Something to stop it blowing out the other end. She
      knotted the string and tried again, this time looping the free end of
      the string in through the knot. It held.

      Tris grinned and unravelled the knot. This time she called a much
      stronger breeze, knotting the cord as she guided the wind into its new
      pattern. It wasn't so hard after all. She couldn't wait to show Niko.

      --- ---

      "And yet, as H. D. F. Kitto remarks, if you mistake potassium cyanide
      for sugar, innocence and ignorence will not save you."
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