It’s #WIPpet Wednesday –K.L. Schwengel’s brainchild which encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is December 25, 2013.

  • Today’s math is simple. 25 lines for the date, then a bonus birthday gift for my lifelong friend and soulsister, Eden Mabee – and a Christmas treat for everyone else.

Eden’s been missing Henry and Tisira, so this week we’ll stay with Trueborn Weft series fantasy WIP, Chameleon’s Dish.

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk her lost identity.

We rejoin Henry and his wild mate, Nockatee, at the White Hart Inn, in London, where they’ve gone to trade and to seek the words Nockatee feels hold the answer to the mystery of her identity.

This snippet occurs the morning following last week’s WIPpet, The White Hart.It’s the companion volume to Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp Series Star Trek fan fiction). The words discovered here are referenced earlier in the WIP, and were shared in a previous WIPpet, Words, Words, Words.

She went to the small, plain ewer and basin in the corner, and splashed noisily for a few moments, as though she could sluice away all questions and disturbing thoughts in so doing.

Then she turned back to him and said, all in a breath, “At what time will the players perform, Henry, and where? Will there be Shakespeare? I should not like to miss it, if there is.”

Henry smiled, and tried to put aside the worries of last night, when Tisira had been so near, and so threatening in her strangeness. This morn, she was his Nockatee, and mayhap that was enough.

“I will ask, when we go to break our fast. Who will milk our Nanny?”

“I will tend her. Let’s give the milk we can’t drink to the inn.” Her eyes brightened, and she licked her lips. “Do you think there will be more mutton stew?”

Henry laughed at her expression. “If there be any left, I think there will not be, once you have done with it!”

They passed their morning, after that, in busyness. Nockatee tended to Nanny, who was happy in a large stall. While Henry was tending the morning fire in the greatroom, he learned that the players would arrive at one o’clock, and that they would be performing Hamlet.

Nockatee was settled in his  mind, all morn, and the name ‘Hamlet’ passed, several times, through her thoughts, as though trying to attach to something, and – almost – succeeding. But, each time, whatever it was drifted back into the dark places she could not touch within herself.

And then, at last, the play started, and she sat rapt and straight on the bench beside him, with that air that minded him of a hunting cat again, as though she might sit there, never moving, forever.She was so beautiful that Henry could hardly breathe, and he could attend to the play not at all. There was only her, and her unblinking attention…

“DOUBT THAT THE STARS ARE FIRE
DOUBT THAT THE EARTH DOTH MOVE
DOUBT TRUTH TO BE A LIAR
BUT NEVER DOUBT I LOVE.”

And Nockatee made a little gasping jump on the bench they shared, and her hand gripped his – hers so tight and strong that his bones creaked upon each other, and he could feel all of her softening calluses. Her eyes were wide and aglow with hope, her mind afire now with new certainty – and new questions.

These are the words!” she whispered on a breath, holding them tightly within her, as a treasure.

 

There we have it – Nockatee has found her words, at last. But will she come to understand what they mean, and why they’re important?

For December,pick the WIP, and POV character! If you have a favorite, don’t be shy! Someone decides, and it could be you! This WIP is the default.

And here’s an excerpt just for Nockatee and Tisira:

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read and/or join in yourself!

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