WIP Whursday... almost Friday, actually.
So... I think I got back the inspiration to keep working on the ThreeBones that I've started some months back, and here we have a little excerpt from it.
Enjoy the reading and let me know what you think.
“And then,” Bonnie continued, “they ran.”
Elle’s whole body leaned forward. “Ran?”
“Ran,” Bonnie confirmed. “Not walked. Not tiptoed. Ran. Like a river breaking its banks. Like a cloud that’s held storm too long and finally lets go. They ran through the Gate hand in hand, Paige’s breath turning to silver ribbons behind her, Bones’ bells ringing in wild counterpoint.”
Elle was breathless now, as caught in the story as Paige was in the running.
“What did it feel like?” she whispered.
“Like waking up,” Bonnie said simply. “Paige felt the magic of the in‑between — foxfire curling around their ankles, stars so bright they left trails when you blinked, the air humming with old spells and older memories. And she felt something else.”
Bonnie hesitated long enough for Elle to frown. “Something growing between them,” she said finally. “A magic they didn’t have a name for yet. A magic they couldn’t name, even if they’d wanted to — because naming something makes it real. And real things are easier for the Hunt to steal.”
Elle’s voice shrank to a whisper. “Was it… good magic?”
Bonnie’s eyes glimmered, soft as embers under ash. “The best kind,” she murmured. “The kind that keeps you tethered when everything else tries to pull you apart.”
Elle bit her lip, thinking so hard her brow wrinkled. Then, with the unfiltered honesty only children carry, she whispered, “It sounds like… love.”
Bonnie’s rocking stilled for a heartbeat — just long enough for the room to feel the pause.
When she spoke again, her voice had changed: gentler, deeper, wrapped in something old and careful. “Sometimes,” she said, stroking Elle’s hair, “two souls hear the same song before they know the words. And they keep following that sound, through frost and fog and fear, until the world shows them what to call it.”
Elle blinked, breath catching at the edges. “So… was that them?”
Bonnie smiled — not confirming, not denying, only weaving safety around the truth.
“It was the kind of magic that grows when two hearts remember each other,” she said. “Even when they shouldn’t. Even when they can’t name it.”
Elle whispered, “That sounds like love too.”
Bonnie kissed the top of her head. “Then perhaps that’s your word for it,” she smiled tenderly. “As they ran,” Bonnie continued, “the cold around Bones changed. It softened, retreating from the warmth of Paige’s grip. The shadow that bent wrong flickered — uncertain — as if deciding whether to be hers or the Hunt’s. Bones’ steps grew steadier. Her breath quickened to match Paige’s. And the bells braided in her hair — bells that usually rang in the pitch of storms — rang instead like laughter.”
“That’s pretty,” Elle murmured.
“It was,” Bonnie agreed. “It was very pretty. And very rare.”
