trashy paperback novel [r]

Wheels won't turn they won't turn the birdy's head. Sad eyes sad eyes like sharpened daggers. You'll never walk only stagger, sad eyes quite cryptic, bye.

the horse had been the only other living creature to survive the slaughter. her foot twisted, her clothes torn and bloodied -- this was not how sophia envisioned stopping by the village of lahar. in fact, if her ribs had not been cracked and her left arm broken in so many places, she might not have stopped at the village at all. all things considered, it was a miracle that she had managed not to fall off the horse too many times.

a farmer had carried her into a clinic, where she had traded her gold ring for a bed, a considerable amount of roasted meat, and a few sets of clothes that she had deemed 'passable' for everyday wear. sophia keeps the rest of her jewelry tucked beneath her pillow. they would be useful bargaining tools once she decides to hire a few bodyguards to escort her back to irkalla. her horse had been tied outside, waiting for the day when she is able to travel again.

the healer in the village is not a witch. he is kind, but kindness does not substitute for the convenience of instantaneous healing or a surplus of pain medication. the herbs that he wraps around her arm aren't enough to completely dull the pain when he sets her arm back into place. sophia survives. she always does.

the gauze makes it hard to breathe. sophia sinks back into her pillow, waiting for the healer to leave before she can start decimating the entire plate of roasted beef with her bare (right) hand. she doesn't care that she had been provided the most under-seasoned (and overcooked) meat on this side of the sharan empire. she eats like a starving bear and rediscovers the feeling of bliss.

outside, the local children talk. they talk about the gold-clad lady who speaks like a noble and a foreigner. lahar is small. by noon, almost everybody in their quiet town knew.

ZAHIR BRAND