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Genre: Fantasy
About AnnieColleenLocation: South Texas Home Region: Age:29 Favorite writers: Harry Turtledove, Jasper Fforde, Agatha Christie, Patricia Wrede, Emily Snyder Favorite music: instrumental or foreign language Non-noveling interests: cross-stitch, walking, puns/parodies |
Joined: Oktober 2, 2007 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 170 NaNoWriMo buddies: 32
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Synopsis: Fish in the River of Stars
Kian Polestar Ulysses is clear on his role in life: be ready to step into his mother's rank (and his late father's) as ruler of the world-ship Ulysses. Guild squabbles, inter-ship diplomacy, and a bride-to-be he hardly knows are all part of the job -- and, as far as Kian is concerned, so are street theater festivals and rishi games against all comers.
Then a dagger in the shadows and a whispered warning bely all that: "Polestars defy probability, in their living and in their dying." An accident while pursuing the assailant leaves Kian stranded on a hostile planet with the young assassin, who swears she meant no harm, and with no way to get word to Ulysses unless he carries the message himself.
Among the world-ships, desertion is a capital crime. And there are those close to the Polestar who mean to see that sentence carried out, when -- and if -- Kian ever makes it home.
Excerpt: Fish in the River of Stars
Sprays of light foamed over Ulysses' bow, the luminiferous aether lashing into crimson spray shot through with gold that purled down the reinforced panes of the lighthouse and trickled away to be lost from sight in the turbulence above or the swifter aetheric currents below -- near enough that Kian caught himself reaching out as though to catch the fleeting motes, no matter how impossible he knew that to be. Even knowing better, he stood entranced as the light-fall sleeted down.
"You might as well sit," his uncle called from behind him. Kian glanced back: the command chair, and the rest of the lighthouse, lay in shadow but for what light flickered through the filtering panes. "Hours yet before we see the last of that. If you mean to stay." Even as he teased, Paolie kept a hand firm on the wheel, steering for the smoothest path.
In the port helmsman's chair his twin sister adjusted a lever, tweaked another, eyes fixed on the outer gauges. "Light-caps to the fourth mark down," she reported. And then, shattering the illusion of cool competence-- "And you lose the game, brother mine. Dutchman's beaten you to the calm."
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