This 8 sentence blog hop is hosted by The Weekend Writing Warriors. (Click the link for the list of participants, or rules if you want to join!)
This is a snippet from my yet-to-be-completed NaNoWriMo story, Black Ink Plague, a fantasy about inkbloods, people who were left at the roots of a magic tree as babies, and can use charcoal from those trees to write and cast spells.
The main character, an inkblood called Liar, cast a spell to kill the gang leader called Cin, then met with the gang’s second in command, Jash, to ask for payment to purchase supplies for charms, but one gang member demands to know how much she’s being paid, and grabs for her purse.
She stepped away from him, muttering, “Trouble me no more,/ fall and/ move not for an hour.”
One of the pieces of paper in pockets sewn into a special vest worn under Liar’s dress pulsed against her ribs, and the scarred man collapsed to the floor.
“We are allies, are we not, Handsome Jash?” Liar asked.
“Of course we are, inkwitch,” Jash offered an easy, meaningless smile, his green eyes warm with false emotion. “Cin was his cousin, so he’s a bit upset, but I’ll have a talk with him.”
The odds of the man at her feet living through the night weren’t good, but Liar simply nodded, as if she believed Jash’s assurances. Neither of them trusted each other, they both knew better than that, but appearances mattered.
* * *
Black Ink Plague is set in a world similar to ours, with the addition of the Rakau tree, which has magical properties–charcoal or ink from the tree can be used to cast spells. However, only inkbloods, babies who were left overnight at a Rakau tree’s roots on their first full moon, can harvest and use the tree. The price they pay for their magic is that the ink infects them, staining their skin and eventually forming words from the spells they cast on their skin. These words change their lives in unexpected ways.