This is an excerpt from Runaways, chapter 4, when Hannah first encounters the villain! She left home looking for her lost little sister, Cecelia, who she thinks was stolen by The Pied Piper. She found a faerie, or more accurately, he found her… If you aren’t familiar with this story, you can check out the WIP page for an introduction and other excerpts. I hope you enjoy reading!
Are you prepared to pay the Piper?
No! This is all a trick! Her foe stands before her and she didn’t even notice! If he’s here, where is Cecelia? Why doesn’t he play his flute? Is he toying with her? Is she just his entertainment? Disgust and anger replace the fear. She takes a menacing step forward, intent on wiping the condescending grin off his smug face.
Following the last few posts about bards, music, and storytelling, I thought it would only be appropriate to share a few songs from my Runaways playlist! Instead of going through every one of these, I’m going to pick out some favorites, share the lyrics, and explain why I think it suits the book so well! The link below is the full playlist if you’re interested, and maybe in the future, I’ll do this with my other stories as well! I hope this is an interesting look into the thought process behind my soundtrack! Music can be such a personal thing, and I always find it fascinating to see how different people approach finding the right Vibe for a story.
If you’ve been subscribed to my mailing list for any amount of time, you will already be familiar with this colorful cast from my upcoming middle grade portal fantasy, Runaways! Since I’ve launched the newsletter, I’ve been sharing exclusive short stories that give each of these characters their own format in a new, slightly strange format. Eventually, I plan to compile these free, early releases into a companion collection and release them alongside the book itself. But until then, I wanted to share these brief introductions, so you can all get to know them as well!
Hello, dear readers and happy spring! I’m not much for obligatory self promotion but I only do this every three months, so y’all are going to have to put up with me for a minute~
I’ve got a mailing list and I write new short stories and send them out every quarter! In case you couldn’t guess by the flowers that I have as my icon everywhere, this is my favorite season, and so this month I wanted to write a story that pays homage to the in-between. This short takes place at sunset on the vernal equinox between two worlds, with some characters who aren’t really one thing or the other.
Matteo and Marco are the Semivera twins, who appear as side characters in Runaways. In the book, they have a habit of bantering their sentences back and forth. They aren’t quite changelings, but they aren’t quite human. We also meet a weasel who’s smarter than your average animal, but also can’t speak. Several beta readers asked for an explanation, so I hope this helps! This story takes place about a year before the event of the major book and tells how the twins met their friend and found faerieland. It’s a wacky body-swapping changeling adventure about the Semivera Twins with a questionably experimental format, which I had altogether too much fun messing with.
Also when you sign up, you can have access to the backlog of all the other stories I’ve shared so far! I won’t flood your inbox, so I can promise this post is the most annoying thing you’ll read. Those other stories include:
A narrative rhyming fairy-tale poem about Jack of Fables – one dude from the 11th century who had an eventful (after) life
“Matter” – a magical realism/sci-fi story about a Keeper who lives at the bottom of a black hole giving a pep talk to a Traveller that falls in during their breaking point
“Brigid’s Visits” – a Christmas Carol ripoff exploring one of the side characters in Runaways, told in three verb tenses, because I enjoy making myself go insane.
That’s right, most mailing lists give you one cookie and I’m giving you the whole jar. What’s keeping you from signing up?
If you feel so generously inclined, you can support my writing by leaving me a tip on my Kofi or donating using the secure box below. Until next time, thanks for reading and happy writing!
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“Gone? Gone where?” their father asks, and stomps the mud off his boots at the door.
“She’s not upstairs, but the window is unlocked.”
“She didn’t go outside with you?” their mother asks their father. He shakes his head. Ma slams the skillet of sausages on the table and starts calling through the downstairs for her daughter. Hannah joins her, even though the mounting feeling of dread tells her their efforts are a hopeless cause.
“Her coat and shoes are still here,” Dad says, checking the rack.
“She doesn’t wear those half the time anyhow,” Hannah informs him.
“But in October, after a rainstorm? There’s frost on the grass between the mud puddles.”
Hannah can’t explain why a nagging thorn sticks in the back of her brain. Why would Cecelia leave without even writing a note? She should know better than that.
Hannah decides the discomfort is nothing more than annoyance as their mother comes back into the kitchen and throws off her apron.
Welcome to this year’s Halloween special! Earlier this month, I had you vote on what kind of content you wanted to see, and you chose an “In-Universe Spooky Story,” which worked out perfectly with this month’s theme of framing structures and horror! You can read last year’s Laoche drabbles here. Chronologically, this short takes place before the events of Runaways. If you want to learn more about the story, you can visit its WIP page, and if you want to read another short story in the same universe, you can sign up for my mailing list here to read “Jack of Fables”. Shameless self promotion aside, I hope you enjoy this story! Have a very Happy Halloween!
“Ma! We’re ready to come in now! Can you put on the water for hot cocoa?”
Hannah stomps the snow off her boots in the garage and props her sled against the wall. Cecelia trails in after her, but groans upon seeing the empty wood rack, already knowing what comes next. Their mother emerges from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a half-peeled apple.
“You never got wood,” she observes.
“Do we have to? I’m freezing, and I already started getting undressed.”
“Your father comes home any minute, and we need to stoke the fire. I’ve been making apple butter all day, and lost track of time. There are only ashes left. Why didn’t you do your chores before you played?”
“But Ma, it’s almost dark!”
“It will take you twenty minutes to fetch the wheelbarrow from the shed and fill the rack. Only three loads. I’ll let you finish the job tomorrow, but work until sunset.”
“It’s snowing, the wood will get wet,” Hannah wheedles.
“It won’t turn green between the stack and the house. Stop making excuses.”
“We’re all wet. We could catch hypothermia and die.”
Hello my friends, I have a special announcement for you today! I am now recruiting beta readers for Runaways!
If you aren’t familiar with the story, Runaways is a middle grade fantasy novel that focuses on themes of betrayal, forgiveness, and sisterly love. You can read the synopsis and some early excerpts right now on its WIP Page, but I plan to release it serially on this website in the coming year, and I need help to get it ready to share. If you’re interested, please check out This Form – all the relevant info is in the introduction to help inform your decision. I’m super excited to share this story with the world, and I appreciate all the support so much. 🙂
While we’re on the topic of big updates, I also completed most of my goals this month! (?) School is now in full swing and I think I’ve finally adjusted to the balance of school, work, activities and writing. (If you want to hear more about that topic, you can check out this post). I spend most of my limited free time working on my books, so I’ve been a little more absent on social media, and while it’s frustrating that I can’t interact or edit as much as I like, I’m happy I still have these opportunities. So without further ado, what did I get done?
Wait, do not walk away! Don’t wander off to play! You think you’ve heard this tale before? You think this rhyme will be a bore? Please give me but a fighting chance. I bet two cents you’ll be entranced.
Runaways is my middle-grade portal fantasy novel, currently in the drafting stage. If you’re unfamiliar with its plot and characters, you can find an introduction to the story and read its first lines on the WIP Page. This scene comes from near the middle of the story, once Hannah has finally reached the faerie realm in search of her younger sister. 1447 Words, CW for glamour/illusions.I hope you enjoy reading!
The guards led Hannah from the cavern through a dark tunnel that twisted one way, then another. She tentatively reached one hand out to follow along the wall, and they didn’t stop her. It didn’t help her sense of direction. The walls of the tunnel occasionally caved out into branching pathways, and they turned so many times, Hannah was sure they must have retraced their path twice or thrice. Seashells in the woods wouldn’t help her find her way home. A spool of golden string did Theseus no good sitting back at home. She doubted there were seashells aplenty or string long enough to find the way through this maze.
Something roared. Distant growling grew louder as her captors forced her ever forward. Hannah didn’t dare slow her steps, even as dread knotted in her stomach. But her fears were unfounded as finally, the earth took a sharp slant upwards, and they emerged out of a cave behind a waterfall. The thunder of water echoed off the rocks, and she let out a sigh of relief as she realized it wasn’t a monster. The mist sprayed in her face as they rounded the barrier and emerged into a forest of blazing red. Autumn leaves graced the branches of trees that towered unbelievably high. She craned her neck, but couldn’t see the end.
A million twinkling stars hung in the dark sky. A galaxy of fireflies lit the clearing with dancing lights. The stone path continued before them, lined by wildflowers that grew as high as her waist. Garlands that held golden lanterns lined the path as well and drew the attention of diaphanous gossamer moths. They flitted about the party, and one even landed on her hair. Hannah couldn’t stifle a laugh of delight as it perched on her head. She caught the lead guard grinning at her out of the corner of her eye, clearly pleased that she enjoyed the spectacle.
In the distance, the sights and sounds of a gathering solidified into the form and sounds of a palace. The guards marched her up the front steps, through the towering columns, and through the throng of gawking fae. Hannah could scarcely watch before they spun away in a mad dance. It felt like Masquerade. Each played the phantom, and she the unwitting attendant. The music soared and twisted, a lively melody that wound around her and pulled her into the intoxicating revelry. She resisted the urge to twirl in time with the tune. If she began, she could not stop, and for the first time, she was thankful for her guards pulling her on ever forward to her destination. She clapped her hands over her ears. What if the piper was here? As part of the band, with his mask of a face, and colorful clothes, he’d fit right into the motley crowd.
As she entered the throne room, she thought maybe she shouldn’t be thankful they brought her to yet another trial. Two thrones stood atop a raised dais in a semi-circular room. Servants hurried to bring trays of food to their monarchs. The queen sat distinguished in a silvery celestial gown and enjoying delicacies, dropping no fruit on her dress. She had a wild look in her large golden eyes, indigo skin that marbled with violet, and black hair that spilled over her shoulders like clouds of ink. Her wings were like Luna moth’s, huge and pale green, and she held a glass of chocolate wine just in danger of tipping over.
If the queen embodied night, the king personified day. He sprawled across her lap, leaning casually sideways in the throne they shared. Dark freckles stood out like sunspots on pale yellow skin. A tousle of golden curls framed his face, crowned with a wreath of ivy. He wore a plum colored robe and sandals that now dangled from his feet. One hand held a glass of sparkling champaign, and the other held a leg of meat. He laughed with an attendant, and his dark eyes flashed with enjoyment.
“Now what do we have here?” Hummed the queen.
The guard that had been leading Hannah stepped up to speak with a sharp salute, lifting the beetle wings high and proud. “We found this one at the northern gate. Fell through fighting one of the Piper’s agents. Said she wasn’t a spy. Looking for a changeling. Told her we’d let you decide.”
“Well done, soldier!” said the king. “What fun, what excitement! A wonderful opportunity!”
Hannah shuddered to wonder what that meant. She took a step back, abruptly sober and wary.
“May we have your name, little one?” The queen crooned. Hannah set her jaw. She prepared for this.
“You may not have my name, but you may call me Maria,” She answered. There were millions of Marias in the world and they bore a good name – a safe, powerful, beautiful one, but not hers.
“Let us offer you these sweet cakes then, Maria,” The king said. A platter materialized out of the air, filled with luscious tarts.
“I humbly decline, for I had my meal at home.”
They grinned, an identical, sharp-toothed grin. “What do you seek from the Seelie Court of Autumn?” The queen asked.
“My sister.”
“Which do you want?” the king asked, “For there are many.”
“Mine.”
“My dear,” the queen purred, “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”
Yes, she would need to be exacting in her request, lest they pull a horrid trick on her for their amusement. Lest they endanger Cec- her sister. Best to avoid even thinking her name in their presence. Who knew what they could do?
“I believe your people took my sister last night during the thunderstorm, between the hours of midnight and four today. She spoke of the Piper, and his flutes on the wind. I couldn’t hear his music, because he didn’t come for me. She vanished the next morning. I wish for her freedom to return to our home and our parents.”
“You wish, hmmmmmm?” The king mused. “We do not owe you a wish, but yours is a noble plea.”
Her heart leap with hope. Would they consider?
“Why?” the queen asked.
Why? A million reasons, but should she reveal her heart now? Hannah ventured for a safe answer. “Because our mother and father will be cross with us if we return late for dinner,”
“Why?” Insisted the king.
Hannah’s stomach turned as they pressed into her with that driving tone. The facade of indulgent amusement dropped like taking off a mask, leaving behind hard, angry eyes. Why did they toy with her? Was her request so unreasonable?
“Because she left without a word, and I am worried for her.”
“Why?” Hissed the queen.
“Because I miss her. Because I love her.”
They gave her those same, sharp-toothed grins again. Hannah wanted to slap those smiles right off their silly little faces. She held her breath as they waited for an agonizingly long moment before the king spoke.
“How do you know her, when you cannot call her by name?”
Around her appeared a dozen figures–girls that all looked exactly like Hannah’s sister. They all gazed at her with wild, desperate expressions. She shrunk back, but more popped up behind her. Hannah scowled at the ring of possible imposters as she realized the trick. One would be the truth, trapped in the game. The others would be illusions. She had to choose.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself.
“I know her by her footsteps when she creeps into my room at night to watch the thunderstorms.” They took a step towards her, menacing. Those three, those were wrong. Hannah snapped open her eyes and banished several of the imposters. With a wave of her hand, they vanished into a puff of smoke.
“I know my sister by her laugh when I tell her a terrible pun,” Hannah said. The girls all laughed, seemingly on command. She couldn’t tell apart individual voices, but there was a silence from one side as one didn’t laugh. She had said nothing funny. Banished. Vanished. Smoke.
“I know her by her kindness when she sneaks our cats extra treats. I know her by her competitiveness when she jumps off the top of a maple tree to beat me in a race.” One flinched at the idea of breaking bones, but her sister never hesitated with heights. Banished. Vanished. Smoke.
One remained. Hannah locked eyes with it through the smoke and her eyes stung with tears. “I know my sister,” she repeated. “And she knows me.”
If you feel so generously inclined, you can support my writing by leaving me a tip on my Kofi or donating using the secure box below. Until next time, thanks for reading and happy writing!
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Etta Grace: Author 