write a story with me

A while back I signed up over at Jennifer M. Eaton’s blog to write a story with her. It was all in good fun and done to celebrate her blogiversary. It’s been fascinating to watch the story unfold through the eyes of so many different writer’s. Many times the story would take off in a direction that left the reader scratching his/her head. Other times, the reader sat back and said, “Man, I wish I’d written that!” Anyway, contribution time to the story has rolled around to me again (which I wasn’t expecting), so I’m adding the next chapter to this very unique story. I hope you enjoy Part 20.

***

Yoran left the cloaked air rider hovering as he retrieved Marci’s limp body from the house. Janosc was waiting in the sleep cabin when Yoran returned.

“Did you get the medicines I asked for?”

Yoran nodded while covering Marci with a blanket. “Yes. It’s all there. Every last drop of it. And the weapons, too. Now let’s go.” Yoran made his way forward to the cockpit.

“Not so fast, Yoran Sumner,” Janosc said. “There is but one more item we need before we depart.”

“I refuse to get you anything else” Yoran said, his temper bubbling beneath his skin.

“Then your daughter shall die.”

Yoran advanced. “Why you—”

Janosc thrust his arms before him, his palms facing Yoran. A bubble of green light pulsed forward, buffering the space between him and the commander. “Do not threaten me, human, or our deal is off. Understood?”

Marci moaned in her sleep, uttering nonsense.

“Delirium is setting in,” Janosc said. “We have little time. The choice is yours.”

Yoran clenched his fists, but his anger was pointless. He had to save Marci. He placed his hands on the overhead compartment. “What do you want me to do?”

The bubble of light vanished. Janosc flitted forward. “I want you to go inside and get Bethany. She’s coming with us.”

Yoran’s eyes widened. “What?” he shouted. “Why?”

“Because she is responsible for Marci’s illness, therefore she is necessary for her cure.”

“Responsible how? What are you talking about?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

***

You can read all the contributions by clicking the links below.

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Part Nine – Vikki Thompson

Part Ten — Susan Rocan mywithershins

Part Eleven — Kate Johnston AKA 4AMWriter

Part Twelve — Julie Catherine

Part Thirteen — Kai Damian

Part Fourteen — Richard Leonard

Part Fifteen — Sharon Manship

Part Sixteen – Shannon Blue Christensen

Part Seventeen — Bryn Jones

Part Eighteen — Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Nineteen – Shannon Burton

The lovely and talented author, Jennifer M. Eaton, is celebrating her blogoversary and wants to celebrate by writing a story. But she doesn’t want to write the story alone. She wants everyone else to join with her and write it together. You can find all the details on how to join here, and you can start reading the story here.

As I was the second in line to be tagged, I am offering up my contribution below.

She had to for if the Establishment discovered she’d snipped an olden leaf from the sacred Gleaming Tree, she’d be arrested, thrown into prison with the worst of criminals. It wouldn’t matter she was only twelve years old. The laws were clear. Deface Argot’s most hallowed shrine and forfeit your life.

Marci bowed and whispered a thank you to the Gleaming Tree and fled down the hill, hurrying along the winding dirt road toward home. She slowed her pace as she approached the outskirts of Argot. The town bustled with the activity of ships porting in the harbor. The Planetary Raiders had returned. From the knoll of the bell tower in Logan Square, Marci looked out over the crowd, looking for her family. She spotted her pregnant mother and little sister waiting at Slip Three for the last of the flying armada to dock. Excitement bubbled in her chest. Daddy’s home! She had to hurry.

Marci turned and scurried as fast as she could to the other side of town and plowed through the door of a small farmhouse. She ran up the rickety steps to her room in the attic.

“Jenelle! Jenelle! I have it. I brought the leaf like you asked.”

From a hole in the floor emerged a girl, no taller than a daisy, dressed in brown, her blonde hair cut short above her pointed ears. She looked cautiously around.

“Did anyone see you?” Janelle asked.

Marci shook her head. “No one, I promise. I did exactly as you said. Here.” Marci opened the book and laid the wrapped leaf upon the floor.