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    A Telling: Tales from Pocatello, #2
    A Telling: Tales from Pocatello, #2
    A Telling: Tales from Pocatello, #2
    Ebook39 pages31 minutes

    A Telling: Tales from Pocatello, #2

    By Jessie Sanders

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    About this ebook

    Natalie doesn’t fit in anywhere. To the Nerjans, she is just another slave, the daughter of a long-dead rebel. And Les Tristes, her enslaved people, shun her due to her ability to hold magic. Rejected by both worlds, Natalie knows that it is time to take control of her own future.
    Allowing herself to be sold to a wealthy family in Nerja feels to Natalie more like an adventure than a sentencing. If she can keep her magic hidden, serving the noblemen of Nerja will be much better than slogging through the swamps with Les Tristes.
    But when a Wanderer discovers her secret and her new start is threatened, Natalie realizes how truly limited her aspirations have been. Can a slave girl overcome her destitute beginnings, reach her potential, and find a place to belong?

    A Telling is the second tale from Pocatello. Approximately 8,600 words.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStormy Night Publishing
    Release dateDec 1, 2013
    ISBN9781497753853
    A Telling: Tales from Pocatello, #2
    Author

    Jessie Sanders

    Jessie Sanders reads, writes, and parents in Oklahoma. She is a freelance editor of fiction and the author of the Grover Cleveland Academy series.

    Read more from Jessie Sanders

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      Book preview

      A Telling - Jessie Sanders

      Part One

      Natalie planted her left boot firmly on Jordan McEwan’s chest. Is this what you be wantin’?

      Blood trickled from Jordan’s nose and mixed with the mud on his cheeks. You fey! he screamed, wiggling to get free. I deserve those boots more than you do!

      Why? She leaned closer to his face. ‘Cause I’m a fey and your dad’s got a last name?

      Well... Jordan sputtered. Of course!

      Guess what, Jordan, your name ain’t worth nothing. Not to me, not to them. The Roonies threw it to you so you won’t turn out an agitator.

      He kicked his bare feet against the ground, trying to find traction. Stop acting all high and mighty, like you’re Une Triste and have something to say.

      What does that mean? You think I’m like them?

      Ain’t sound so offended. Would you rather be like your mother?

      Nat risked removing her boot from his chest to kick him squarely in the crotch.

      He rolled over in pain, groaning.

      Your mother was a loon, Jordan said, recovering enough to sit up.

      Nat swung her fist, and Jordan fell back into the mud. You ain’t talkin’ about my mother like that. And you ain’t gettin’ my boots.

      She stomped off into the early morning light.

      Some days Nat was proud of her mother for believing in something so wholeheartedly. Some days she was ashamed that her mother had died for such a pointless cause. Some days, like today, it was both. Nat knew that Les Tristes didn’t deserve to be treated like dirt by the Roonies, but Jing Dong Ma curse her if she ever became an agitator. She already had to fight to stay alive; where was the glory in fighting to die?

      A Roonie pushed through a large crop of cattails and ran straight into Nat. He was tall and burly, his maroon armor splattered with mud. Just like everything in the Styx.

      He slapped her in the face, but she expected it and went with the motion of his hand to miss the brunt of the blow, then fell so he wouldn’t notice.

      Back to the pits where you belong, he barked. She could smell the alcohol on his breath even from the ground.

      Pits ain’t my job, she said. There be more to do around here than shovel mud, you know.

      He leaned down and squinted at her. You’re the unicorn girl, aren’t you?

      I hitch the unicorns to the plows, if that’s what you mean, she replied.

      Then why are you here instead of in the unicorn pen? he asked. Unicorns can’t hitch themselves.

      "They all be restin’. They’ve had

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