bzedan | The Audacity Gambit, VIII:2

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The village held a dance that evening, though Emily had a feeling it wasn’t for her benefit so much as a regular affair. She didn’t dance much herself, mostly because she was unable to join in the aerial choreography. They were to leave at dawn, so she slipped out early and lay in bed listening to the revelry below filtering through open windows into the summer air.

Her mind kept churning, picking at the plan, the situation and the role she played. Kicking off the blankets, Emily dug the writing desk out of her pack. Taking time to remember detail, she wrote to her aunt, explaining the village and Dry-Eyes. She began to write about the uncertainty of the jumps and her creeping fear, but decided against it. Janice was probably worried enough as it was. Carefully sealing the letter, Emily looked at it thoughtfully before dropping it into the slot on the side of the desk. As before, it was pulled from her grasp, vanishing with a faint breeze. She repacked her bag and climbed back into bed.

Dry-Eyes woke Emily with a shake, holding a cup of what turned out to be coffee, more or less. Emily drank it as she slipped on the loose clothing they’d given her, using the curtain-hung toilet nook as a changing room.

“Hey, when I’m big again, this stuff will change too, right?”

Dry-Eyes leaned against the door frame, a ghost of a smile flickering across her face. “Yes. You will not burst out of them like some shapeshifting beast, don’t worry.”

“What should I do with my old stuff?”

“Pack it, you have room in your bag, don’t you?”

Emily didn’t think so, but was quickly proved wrong. She could have fit yet another full set of clothes in the pack. Frowning, she remembered Janice’s careful outfit planning, minimising the space bulky clothes would take up.

“Best not to think about it.” Dry-Eyes echoed Emily’s thoughts aloud. She looked up sharply, then smiled.

“You’re right. We should get going.”

Dry-Eyes led her to the gardens, preparing Emily for the first jump as they walked.

“You won’t like this one. I don’t like this one. The most important thing is to not panic and keep that mantra of yours in mind.”

They reached the edge of a decorative pond and Dry-Eyes grimaced, looking around for something. With a grunt she grabbed Emily’s hand and half-dragged her to the middle of a tiny stone bridge that spanned the pond at its narrowest point. “You’ll be back to normal on the other side, so I won’t be able to keep a hold of you, so pay attention and don’t lose sight of me.”

Emily nodded, looking down at the pond. She could see the carefully placed river stones of its bed through the clear water.

They counted to three and jumped in.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.