In Fledgling Whispers (Book 3 of The Transition of Pinn)

Days, it’s been days.

For days I’ve been kneeling, praying, talking to the goddess within the silent walls of this prison.

The air in my cell is so stale it taste like the rotten straw that makes up my small dirty mattress. The floor is marked with small dirty water puddles from where the jailor threw a few buckets of water through the iron bars earlier to “clean the floor.” Droppings sit near the corner of the cell where a rat scurried by earlier. A damp cold permeates the prison, which soaks through my clothing and into my bones.

Yet, I can’t help but feel a warm peace that fills me. It radiates from my heart out to my limbs and satisfies my mind. Years of prayer have never provided me with this much serenity.

“Guests, boy.” The old city jailor, Maddock, calls everyone boy. I can’t be bothered to take offense. He bangs my cell’s bars with a stick he often carries with him.

They have me a special part of the city jail while they decide what to do with me. There are no other prisoners in this wing making it the perfect space in which to pray and think. I’ve asked for several religious texts to be delivered to me, but unfortunately, they have not arrived. No matter, it’s the perfect time for personal reflection.

There is only one thing that disturbs my peace.

I sit up from my spot kneeling on the floor. In the days I’ve been here I have yet to receive a guest, not even my uncle dared to visit me- who wants to risk their career for a lost cause?

Steps against the sandy floor of the dirty prison floor. Two figures come into view, I recognize them as they draw closer- what are their names again?

“Master Priest” the shorter man greets. That’s kind of him; I doubt I am a Master Priest any longer.

He’s young with brown hair and chocolate eyes in formal clothing, but I can tell it’s not the highest quality. The man next to him is a brute, with muscular crossed arms, and tall with wavy black hair and a short black beard.

I remember them now; the brute is Herlitz man, while the shorter man belongs to Senator Kin.

“Goddess bless” I reply to which the young man briefly bows his head.

“Master Priest, we have come to see if there is any way we can ease your comfort while you await your trial” Kin’s man explains while handing a flat wrapped bundle to the jailor who pushes it through the small opening in the bars made for passing food.

I grab it and examine the bundle. It’s a folded blanket, a few small books, and a few slices of fruit bread wrapped in wax paper.

“Thank you”

The shorter man’s eyes shift to give Maddock a look. The jailor nods and walks away without a word.

The short man watches him go before turning back to me, “we would like to come up with a strategy for the trial.”

I look at him warily. It’s not surprising they have another motivation for their visit, but I have to wonder what they are going to ask of me.

“You probably are aware, the um… incident has quickly become political” he begins. Of course, I’m not aware- I’ve been by myself in this cell since the incident as he so politely phrased it, “everything touching the investigation has become politically toxic. So we need to coordinate on your trial before it comes so that we can minimize the damage.”

I look down at the bundle in my hands. The kinder gesture seems…. Less. I should feel used, but I don’t. Politicians will be politicians, and at least these ones tried to do something about the conditions in the temple. If this stains them, who is to say whoever replaces them will be as willing to tackle abuse?

But I want something. Something that has been nagging me in the back of the head disrupting my peaceful prayers.

“Of course” I pause briefly to consider how I want to say the next thing, “but I want you to do something for me.”

The short man’s eyes narrow slightly but his voice remains kind, “What would you like us to do?”

“I need you to save Rachel” I lean

The two men look at each other briefly before turning back to me.

“Who’s Rachel?” the short man asks.

“A priestess then High Priest condemned to be sacrificed” and she is so much more, but I keep that to myself.

The goliath opens his mouth, “I’m not sure-"

“We’ll do it” the short man interrupts.

“Alex, you don’t even-" goliath begins to argue.

“You’ve been in the temple before, Sean, and I know you know how to get people out” Alex looks at him pointedly.

“I will need to discuss this with the senator” Sean looks grumpily as he recrosses his arms.

“Actually, I have a business prop-"Alex begins

“I’m not leaving the senator” Sean interrupts.

“You have to!” Alex turns away from me to look up at Sean, “Ivy isn’t coming back- it’s been months! You have nothing to do there”

Sean grunts a non-reply as I watch on surprised at how easy the big man caves.

Alex spins back to me, “We’ll get your priestess out, and then we’ll be back.”

I bow my head slightly in acknowledgment still holding the bundle in front of me.

As they turn to leave, I decide to say the only thing worth saying at that moment, “May the goddess bless your mission.”

******

Thank you guys so much for reading In Fledgling Whispers! I hope you guys enjoyed the story of Dunn and Rachel. I’m sad to see them go, but at the same time, I’m looking forward to the next story in the series.

I can’t believe that it’s time to start the 4th book in the Transition of Pinn Series. Amid Disrupted Regimes will start soon and this will be the story of Patricia and Sean. We are back to the political side of things and I’m hoping to be able to include a little more action in the plot. I’m also looking forward to writing Patricia’s POV as I think she will give Sean a hard time.

So stay tuned and happy reading!

Heather