It’s time for another SFF Saturday Snippet! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a group of authors who post snippets of SFF prose and poetry for comment. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.
For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be giving you snippets from a short story I wrote called Old Wounds. This is the fifth part. You can find the other parts here.
When we left Master Sorne, her mysterious guest had just called her Mistress Sorne.
Her non-sword hand curled into a fist. “Master Sorne.”
Dilan spoke. “Master, he’s got one of those flint things.”
Flintlock. Damn the humans for inventing them and damn her fellow Elasi for perfecting them. It could be a pistol or a long gun—either way, her sword would be useless. She set it down and palmed a throwing knife before unbolting and opening the workshop door.
The firearm, it turned out, was a pistol and a stranger had it pressed up against the back of Dilan’s head. Her apprentice’s eyes were wide and his face ashen and he trembled as the man holding the gun backed him away from the door—away from her.