Hidden Power Read Free

morning sun turned the horizon a stunning orange-blue as the second of Synurgus’ double moons finally disappeared from view. The rays grew warm on her young face as she stretched until the last of the morning’s chill had left her muscles. 
    As she approached the barn, she heard cursing from the bleaters’ pen. Her father had recently bartered with Senior Pretorius, the neighboring farmer, for six new head of the short, furry beasts with the cotton white coats, trading only six bushels of fresh saw grass for the privilege.
    But the barn was only designed for a dozen livestock, at best, and Aurora’s father had complained daily ever since. “More bleater troubles?” she asked knowingly, poking her head in the barn for fear he might toss a spare nayer shoe in her general direction.
    “I knew I shouldn’t have added more bleaters to our stock,” he grumbled, rubbing a large, calloused hand atop his stubble-covered head. “What was I thinking, Aurora?”
    “You were thinking,” she reminded him, cautiously stepping foot through the double barn doors, “of soft winter coats and snug blankets, of spring bleater beasts and fresh grass when they can graze and not stink up the barn!”
    Her father looked at her then, blue eyes twinkling in the dim glow of the lanterns flickering on either side of the cavernous barn. “And until then?” he asked, a crooked smile filling his handsome face. “Should the extra bleaters sleep in your room?” He chuckled dryly before adding, “But no, where would all your books sleep then?!”
    She blushed and turned away. Her father had never been much of a reader, and couldn’t understand how Aurora could want to read books when not in school, let alone spend every spare cent of her allowance on them.
    Suddenly he cleared his throat and tossed off his gloves. Her eyes widened; he never quit his chores before they were through. “Where are you going, father?”
    He shook his head as he approached her. “An old army friend just moved into town after leaving the service,” he explained. “He’s a carpenter by trade. I’m hoping he can help build me a new bleater pen before frost season hits us in full.”
    Aurora stood by the door, an idea forming behind her placid smile. “But what about your chores?” she asked innocently, gazing around the dusty barn with wide eyes as if it looked worse than it actually did.
    But he was too smart to fall for her little games. He tucked her under the chin, fingers smelling like bitter root. “That’s what daughters are for, Aurora.”
    “Or!” she shouted, following after him, smoke rising from the cabin as her mother stood in the warmly lit kitchen, preparing breakfast for the two of them. “I could go into town for you. I’ll be needing new clothes for when I go back to my learning, and need to barter some in town anyway.”
    Her father looked skeptical but he was standing still, one glove still on, so there was hope at least. “I could ask about your friend in town?” she added hopefully, feeling his resistance crumble.

2

    Aurora guided her steed through the woods halfway between the family farm and the nearest town. It was still early morning and her chores were done and her belly was full of hogs tooth bacon; a fair start to the day if ever there was one.
    Beneath her long, and still growing legs, the six hooves of her sturdy steed, Boer, ground into the damp earth as around them bower trees towered above, half-shielding the morning sun with their orange and yellow leaves. 
    Aurora shifted in her creaky saddle and straightened the bundle of old clothes on her lap. She had been meaning to get into town for ages, but between her chores and reading and exploring the Valley with her friends before curfew, the early days of frost season just seemed to slip away and here she was, only a few weeks from going back to her Learning Place.
    The forest thinned and the town of Balrog emerged, charming, quaint and quite bustling by the time