Faeries Don’t Lie (Heart of the Worlds Book 1) YA Epic Fantasy by TF Burke Book Tour with Guest Post and Giveaway
Can Two Worlds Survive an Augury?
Faeries Don’t Lie
Heart of the Worlds Book 1
by TF Burke
Genre: YA Epic Fantasy
Excerpt 4 – FAERIES DON’T LIE – TF
Burke
Pain
lanced across the backs of Aunia’s calves. She halted, rubbing at the freshly
raised welts. Behind her, saplings shook in the dying tall grass. The faint
orange, painting the grey-blue sky, told of hours lost. How could it be hours?
And Mygul had disappeared.
She
turned full circle, tasting the slight moisture in the air.
This
place was unfamiliar with its warty hackberries, blooming redbuds, and
sassafras trees. Brush wove between the trees with wavy-edged witch hazel and
bristly cockleburs. Water gurgled nearby.
She
swallowed hard. She had meant to run off—mostly to cool off and figure out what
she should do but everything she had been fretting about . . . hurting about,
faded. She was alone in the wilderness. But there should be faeries around,
right? No faery glows, though.
“Hello,”
she called. “Woodland realm and sky be true. I seek safe wisdom and ask of you.
To help me home . . . hello? Generous friends?”
“Nia
should go,” said a croaking voice from a lonely hickory tree. “Not safe. No,
not at all.”
Hand
over her heart, Aunia walked to the tree and at its base perched atop a
toadstool sat a scruffy mushroom sprite.
“Teezo,”
she breathed.
The
faery rose on stout legs. “Nia should run. The Sea Witch swims in the water.
Nia should stay with the water.”
Chills
prickled along her arms. Faeries never lied but they could mislead. “She will
help me to safety?”
“She
will help.” Teezo bolted off the toadstool and disappeared before the last
syllable fully left his mouth.
Aunia
brought her hand to her nose. Jaia. The smell clung to her skin from picking it
earlier. Perhaps she didn’t have to worry about dark faery creatures like
heebles but there were still wild boars and wolves to consider. Was that what
Teezo meant by not being safe?
Well,
she had received an answer. Aunia pivoted toward the water music and the wall
of brambles. A stream might help her home.
She
pulled at the brambly branches to enlarge a passageway. Thorns jabbed her
fingers but she shimmied through with minimum scratches. She skittered down a
black-soiled bank to where the water bubbled louder.
She
halted, dry-mouthed before a broad black-stone creek. This looked identical to
the stream she had seen when she spiritwalked in the Faery world. She sucked in
a deep breath. There was not a birch tree in sight.
She
clutched at her neckline, wishing she had been able to keep her mother’s
amulet, and followed the creek upstream. It would take her hours to return
home—if it was leading her in the right direction.
The
last flicker of daylight gasped and the moon, low and large, threw silver onto
the stream’s rippling surface. She should have stayed in the village. She could
have run off to her room—or at least run to the sheep pasture cottage.
Someplace where she wouldn’t be alone.
For
a time, she jogged along the stream bank, focusing on insect music to keep her
company. The landscape slid by until her foot hit a hole. She caught herself
before she tumbled into the water, blew out a long slow breath, and tested her
ankle. It ached but not too bad. Still, it reminded her that she shouldn’t be
running in the dark, even under a full moon. But she wanted to be home. Even if
she ran into her father. Even if she saw Mathias.
Her
heart squeezed painfully. He had kissed her and for a moment the world
disappeared and everything was perfect. Her chest echoed that liquid fire and
butterfly wings from core to limbs. But he had pushed her away. She blinked
back tears. Crying wouldn’t help. Nothing would. And to think of him . . . she
both wanted to and didn’t. The course of the day played again in her head and
she stomped her foot.
“Stop
it,” she told herself. Pulling her shoulders back, she settled into a chant
measured by the beat of her feet, “I’ll soon to be home. I’ll soon to be home.
I’ll soon be home.”
Trees
pressed in along both sides of the bank: willows and walnuts. She continued on,
holding onto rough branches, navigating around the growing wooden maze, and
keeping her sandaled feet out of the cold stream. The next branch she grasped
felt smooth and papery. Birch trees. All insect noise died. Where had the other
trees gone?
She
should have been focusing. Aunia dug her nails into her arms. Birch trees
surrounded her. They lined both sides of the broad creek with shadowy grim
faces painted on their trunks.
Stay
with the water. That’s what Teezo said. Aunia bent and unlaced her sandals.
She’d more than stay with the water. She stepped into the cold wetness, stones
slick under foot, current swift, and walked to the stream’s center. The water
raced just below her knees.
Her
feet skated along the slippery stones and she forced herself to slow her steps
. . . keep her footing. Anxiety fingered her collarbone. “I’ll soon to be home.
I’ll soon to be . . .”
Thin
white branches stretched, dimming the moonlight, and making a pale woven
ceiling over her head. “. . . home,” Aunia whispered.
“Debatable,”
said a musical voice. “But let’s agree, you are late.”
The
Boggleman, red scar running from jaw to empty eye socket, stepped out of the
shadows. “Hello, Aunia.”
Her
heart lurched, pressing against her back, and she landed with a splash.
“Oh
dear,” the Boggleman said, waving his crooked fingers. “Did I startle you?
Should I be a bit more formal?”
Aunia
attempted to rise, and at least semi-gracefully. Cowering would do her no good
but she slipped again and submerged completely under. She came up sputtering.
The water. She was supposed to stay with the water. But how would it save her
from the Boggleman?
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
$30 Amazon
The excerpt sounds good. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete