Short Fiction

Mahmoud left the group talking to the old woman, searching the cabinets for something to prepare for her lunch. He felt compelled to do this as she was blind and compassion had taken over. Rory and Ahlia continued to ply her with questions, determined to find the answers to guide the group’s travels.

Finding ingredients for tea and sweetbread, he became busy with his preparations. Brastic walked over, curious about the process.

“What do you think,” he said, “can she help us?”

Mahmoud considered this before responding. “We have no clues to our next step. If she is a seer, this would be a great boon.”

Brastic gave him a concerned look.

“The last time you’re mistress sought such help she paid a high cost. Any further sacrifice like that would break our Rory’s heart.”

“If such occurs, perhaps it wouldn’t need be her loss. One of the rest of us could be chosen.”

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