Nearing the End

Of the race . . . I broke 39,000 this morning and am hoping to surpass 40,000 by the time I go to bed tonight. Which leaves an entire week to write 10,000 words, attend two birthday parties, deal with Thanksgiving and other family obligations, figure out which bills I forgot to pay, and start Christmas shopping! No problem! Did I mention the concert, movie night, and nano write-ins I still have to attend?

And yes, for those who are wondering, my caffeine intake for the past month has increased to an alarming degree. I may need to take December as caffeine detox. But not now . . . now . . . I have the finish line in my sights and I'm thundering over it!!!

Of course, I've also realized I probably have another 150-300 pages to go to finish out my novel - so your continued support and encouragement are highly appreciated. This is the year I will continue writing until my story is told! For all those eagerly awaiting the finished product, editing should only take another 3 years ::evil grin::.

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[One of my main characters, Cassia, is receiving instruction on how to saddle and ride a griffin.]

Trev adjusted the last buckle, gently pulling against it with his leg to make sure it would not slip. “Would you rather I not tell you?” he asked. “Which reminds me, when she first launches, you’ll be tempted to lean forward, but if you do, you’ll suffer a broken nose.”

Cassia stared at him. “What?” she said.

“Nose,” Trev repeated. “Broken.” He shook his head. “She’ll leap in the air,” he tried to explain, “and with the first down sweep of her wings, her body will rock forward and her head will come up – which means, if you are leaning forward, the back of her head will connect with your nose.”

“Oh,” Cassia said. “Thank you, I think.”

Trev sighed. “I finally remember to warn someone, and they don’t appreciate it.”

As the stablehands approached Cassia, the Triad dropped her head low, raising her neck feathers and beginning to let out an ominous hiss.

“Too many,” Trev said. “Try just one, so she can keep an eye on what he is doing.”

Most of the boys stepped back, nominating a young black-haired youth to continue strapping Cassia into the saddle. The Triad relaxed and allowed the boy close. “Let’s see,” the lad said, winking at Cassia. “These would be the three straps that run around your right leg at ankle knee and thigh.” He skillfully clipped the straps together, and Cassia was unnerved to find herself stuck to the saddle, unable to move. “And now for the other side,” the lad continued, moving slowly around the front of the griffin.

“You’re speaking for her benefit, aren’t you?” Cassia said.

“I learn quick, Miss,” the lad replied, flashing her a smile. “Working with griffins makes you a bit soft in the head. If wearing one red sock keeps the bird tractable, you find a merchant willing to knit you a dozen pairs.” Several of the stable hands nodded in agreement.

“I had to train a silver once,” one piped up, “wouldn’t let me ride him unless I laid down flat in the sand and let him walk over me first. He never stepped on me, but there were a few moments each day that I was in a cold sweat as I wondered what four hundred and fifty pounds coming down on me stomach would’ve felt like.”

The lad with black hair picked up another set of leather strips, easily looping them about Cassia’s waist. “These are the main supports,” he explained, “to keep you tied to the saddle.” He grabbed a few smaller straps and connected the main supports to small silver rings set around the saddles. “These are the minor supports,” he said. “They help keep the main supports sturdy and minimize tearing. The small straps work against the tension in the main support, which makes the whole saddle ten times stronger.” The lad stepped back. “There we go, Miss. You should be ready to fly.”

Cassia tried to adjust her seat and realized she was locked to the saddle. “And how do I get out quickly, if need be?” she asked nervously.

“You cut the straps with somewhat sharp,” the lad answered cheerfully. “I assume you’ve a dagger hidden somewhere?”

Cassia nodded.

“Then you’re all set.” The lad flashed her a grin.

“Are you ready?” Trev asked, his eyes dark. “Feather’s been itching to fly.”