Siobhan Muir (@SiobhanMuir) flew the highest this week and takes her sixteenth win!
Check out her story below and congratulate her on Twitter.
Congrats on your #SwiftFicFriday win @SiobhanMuir! Check out her flash piece and show her some love #WritingCommunityTweet
Kendra had spent the last week wandering the public spaces of the Winter palace, learning the servants’ entries and the exits to the courtyard. She learned the guard rotations and how they ignored her as much as the servants.
She also spent what time she could in their gardens, gardens that grew and bloomed despite the frigid winter temperatures. Rosemary and Lavender offered up purple and green spikes under a mantle of frost and made beautiful shapes against the other shrubs and trees in the gardens. She picked a few sprigs of both and secreted them away in the pockets of her clothing where the Fae wouldn’t look.
Well, not my clothing. Not really.
No, she would’ve been more comfortable in her jeans and sweater, but they’d taken her clothes and either destroyed or tossed them. It pissed her off that they wanted her to wear layers of skirts which allowed drafts to run up her backside and got in the way of efficient movement. Nothing like visiting the Fifteenth Century. But at least the skirts had pockets.
Samhain was coming soon and she needed to get both herself and Phinn out of Winter’s clutches. He’d said his mother lived in Summer and she could always drop him off there before heading home. She just needed all the energies to align so they could escape, some sort of sign that the time was right to depart.
Before she could turn to leave the parapet, a sudden williwaw swept up the side of the curtain wall and plastered her shawl to her shoulders, chasing away any warmth from the sun. Kendra huddled against the bitter cold. One thought became abundantly clear. Both she and Phinn would emotionally freeze to death here and she had to find a way out.