Anyway, I'm up to about 14K words for my NaNo WIP Glenbrook (The Ethereal Crossings, #4). Some things I've found while getting back into Liv's head is that A) I missed it, and B) I needed a break. Taking a few months off to work on other things really helped, I think!
Although during my absence from The Ethereal Crossings I forgot many side character names :/ LOTS of rereading to do lol.
With that said, here is an excerpt from Glenbrook (a rough first draft!).
***CAUTION: SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE FIRST THREE BOOKS***
Azazel was no longer in my arms, as he decided to start walking on his own. I thought it might be a power thing, him trying to show the Eidolon that he still is in control despite his cat form. By the way Carson and Taia treat him it was clear he still holds some authority in the Shade, but Sera didn’t seem to even notice him. I wonder what it will be like if I ever get to the other side.
I knocked on Emerson’s door, hoping she would be the one to answer. I didn’t want some other faerie to talk to me first, and I certainly didn’t want it to be her brother, Harker to either. He would never let her do it, I was sure.
But my knocking was met by silence. I listened closely, trying to find the small puffs of breath on the other side of the door to tell me someone was inside, but there was nothing. I knocked again, and this time feet shuffled.
It wasn’t Harker or Emerson that greeted me, although I didn’t count his look of disgust as a greeting. It was Breccan, the tall bleach blond faerie that had attempted to negotiate with the wolves. The way his fingertips barely touched the door reminded me that he hated just about everything human. I resisted rolling my eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I need to speak with Emerson,” I told him, careful to control my tone. It was getting harder and harder to keep my temper at bay, knowing that everyone was able to help me but wouldn’t. Why was it the only people willing to help were the ones that could do nothing? People like Jared and Azazel were determined to get Luke back, yet Sera and Dr. Wineman weren’t?
It wasn’t right.
“She’s resting,” he said, “come back later, or better yet, not at all.” His hand flicked and the door almost shut. I slammed my hand flat against it, pushing it open wide.
“I need to get to Shadeland,” I said. My voice wasn’t desperate as I thought it would be, but rather furious. Threatening. Thankfully I couldn’t feel my eyes changing to their scaled counterparts, not yet anyway. It was there, just below the surface.
I took a step inside, but Breccan didn’t budge. He stood his ground, but I could see the sweat beginning to form at his temples. If anything he was nervous. After all, my kind was supposed to be extinct—he probably had no idea what I was, much like the rest of the Eidolon.
“Let her in,” called Emerson. She was in a room to my right, the room that belonged to Charlie, the first owner of this apartment, and the room that used to be Kat’s. I looked towards the half shut door, memories swirling. I shook them off, along with any guilt.
Now was not the time.
Azazel and I marched into Emerson’s room to find her laying in bed, covered with about a dozen blankets. She was shivering, her skin a strange pale blue.
“She’s sick,” Breccan explained. “She cannot take you.”
“Why—Why do you want to go to Shadeland?” Emerson asked, sitting up. It looked like she was struggling.
“Luke is trapped,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “Is he…?” She looked to Breccan, as if to convey a message I couldn’t understand.
I shifted my eyes between them as Azazel jumped onto the bed. He was doing the same thing he had done with Taia and Carson; he simply wagged his tail back and forth, and stared them down. “What is it?” I asked the faeries.
“It’s time for you to go,” replied Breccan. “Emerson needs to rest.”
I looked at him.
He glared back at me. “If you want to get to Shadeland so badly, why don’t we bargain? I’ll gladly take you there; I just won’t guarantee you come back.”
I thought of Harmony’s warning about faeries. She said they liked to take first borns, or lifespans. What would he want? I wondered.
I looked back to Emerson but she had passed out. Azazel stepped down from the bed, clearly not worried I might bargain anything away with Breccan. Maybe that meant it wouldn’t be so bad.
I asked, “What kind of bargain?”
I’d seen in the past just how bad a witch’s deal could go, and imagined a faeries wouldn’t be much different. But this was for Luke…
Breccan shrugged at me. “What have you got?”
Not much, I thought, and probably not enough. Azazel circled at my feet, showing an unusual restlessness. Breccan watched him with mild curiosity, not the respect others showed.
I never gave Breccan and answer, and instead waited for him to come up with something. After a moment of silence he rolled his eyes and said, “Ten years. I’ll make it easy, since you’re trying to help a friend. And if you die in the Shade, I’ll get whatever you would have had left.”
Ten years of my life? I thought about what I might miss, or even how old I was going to be when I died, and thought ten years didn’t sound so bad. Not if it meant I could have Luke for another fifty. I asked, “Ten years of my life taken away, or in servitude to you?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Nobody has ever asked that. Clever. But it will be the former.”
He was certain I was going to take the bargain, maybe even more certain than I was. I told him, “Let me make a call.”
Breccan held his hands up. “Of course.”
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