Author Archive
[This story is a sequel to “A Walk in the Mountains” in REALMS OF DARKOVER and “Believing” in MASQUES OF DARKOVER. “Shadow Thief,” however, can be read on its own.]
Shadow Thief
by Leslie Roy Carter and Margaret L. Carter
Eddard held open the door and bowed his superior officer through. The tavern was a favorite hangout for the Thendara City Guard older cadre. Only a few turned to watch the pair of them enter. The guardsmen lost interest on recognizing David and Eddard, since the two dropped in regularly. David made his way to their table in the corner near the fireplace, while Eddard walked to the bar and negotiated for their usual fare. Captain Mikhail Leynier stood to greet David.
“You’re not smiling, David. Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure if we have a problem or not. Scout Eddard thinks we might have an issue to discuss. I don’t suppose he has mentioned anything to you about the thefts on the base?”
Mikhail looked toward the young scout, who approached balancing three drinks. Mikhail shifted into the corner to clear room for Eddard, pulling David into a seat next to him against the back wall. “No, my cousin twice removed has not been speaking to me recently since you have captured his every hour of late. We haven’t seen each other since last month when you brought him here for our cultural rehabilitation session.”
David rescued a tottering, full mug from his assistant and sat down. He grinned at Mikhail, waving the mug at Eddard, and said, “We aren’t making much progress turning him away from your back-country way of thinking, but you are making some inroads with mine. Every time I come here I learn something.”
“As do I, David. Congratulations on your promotion to Captain. What did you do to earn it?”
David delayed his answer while taking a long pull from his beer. Setting the near-empty mug down, he motioned Eddard to return to the crowded bar for a refill. Watching him dash away, David said, “Umm, can’t talk about it. Let’s say my superiors were quite pleased with my efforts of late. Eddard was a real help to me, but that is a story to be told later.”
The Guard Captain chugged his beer and pushed the mug aside next to David’s empty one. “Plying me with drink is not your usual style, David. Has our meeting turned from one among friends to one of interplanetary diplomacy? I would guess not, because I’m in uniform – you and my cousin are not.”
“No, no – it’s all off the record. I admit that it is a matter that could become an issue between our security people and your Guard, but I don’t want to drag any of our bosses into this just yet. I am seeking information that I can’t get from a data bank.”
“Ah, the type of knowledge that is gleaned from old wives’ tales, stories around the campfire, rumors, or snitches? I would think you thought better of me than that.”
“I know you well enough to say you are a straight shooter, well grounded in the scientific mind-set, and not one to glibly pass on explanations of things beyond your ken.” David took a shallow sip of his beer, watching Mikhail’s eyes narrowing. “Not exactly activity in the real world that cannot be explained by fact or proven by scientific theory.”
Mikhail looked over at Eddard, who was absorbed with gauging the level of the drink left in his glass, avoiding eye contact with the two of them. “Cousin, you studied at Nevarsin; what is he going to ask me?”
“Sir,” Eddard replied in casta, putting his drink down nervously, “he is getting reports of strange things happening in the bazaar on base, the one the Council has allowed to operate based on our agreement.”
“The one where they control the pricing on Darkovan products, using Darkovan contract employees to service customers without the option of making a profit on the exchange.”
“Yes, sir. They call it Exchange,” Eddard answered with a lopsided grin. “It is available only to service personnel attached to the base. The tourists have to shop off base.”
Mikhail frowned. “Do you use it, Cousin?”
Eddard looked over at his Terran supervisor before answering. Lowering his voice, he said, “No, sir! Their prices are nearly twice what I pay at home.” The Scout captain pretended he hadn’t heard, taking a long swig from his mug. David’s understanding of the Darkovan aristocrats’ language had much improved since his first arrival.
Switching back to standard, Mikhail turned to David and asked, “So, events of abnormal activity are occurring at your ‘Exchange.’ Why would the Guard become involved if these activities are not connected with any Darkovans – other than the contract employees you have hired?”
David glanced around to see if anyone might be showing too much interest in their conversation. “The Exchange is in our main administration complex, which keeps tight control over personnel going in or out. Internal Security is responsible for safeguarding these areas – they are a different organization from the one I work for.”
“I know, your section is responsible for protecting your people from my people. They also protect your leaders from people like you who might get a notion of taking control. It is not unheard of from the facts we know of Terran history – facts you yourself have told us.”
David grimaced. “I know I once told you why the Marines were put on our planet-based ships to prevent mutinies, but that doesn’t quite apply to our present situation. Look, Internal Security asked External Security for help because they believe what is behind these strange activities might be related to something outside our knowledge base.”
“Really, David! Are you talking things paranormal, like ghosts?”
“Come to my office tomorrow. I’ll show you the ghost we caught on video.”
#
Mikhail had visited David’s office only a few times over the years he had known him. It was located in the barracks adjacent to the flyer airfield and surrounded by support facilities for keeping the array of ground craft and air vehicles in operation. The Terrans respected the Contract with the Darkovans and stationed very few flyers at Thendara base. Mikhail knew the Terrans kept a much larger force on one of the four moons that orbited Cottman IV. Their purpose was never openly mentioned beyond the Council walls. On the other hand, the ones located on the base were for emergency response, i.e., Search and Rescue. Mikhail had ridden a flyer only once, when they had rescued Eddard from the blizzard near Nevarsin. There were none outside their hangars and very few personnel presently walking around. Mikhail followed David into the two-storied building that held the Captain’s quarters.
David walked over to the desk console and touched a button. On the wall above the desk an image appeared. It displayed a picture of a room with counters laid out either side of a center aisle with a woman standing behind one counter, reaching into the back of the display glass as if pulling something out. The person, dressed in Darkovan clothing, had a puzzled smile on her face. Mikhail took a moment to adjust his eyes to the scene in front of him. “I never can get used to these images. They are so lifelike, as if I was actually standing in that room with her. Everything is, how does one say it? Clear, exact, focused – not like a painting at all.”
“It is not a painting, Mikhail. I will set it in motion momentarily, but I want you to see if anything in this picture seems – wrong.”
Mikhail studied the image. The room displayed was foreign to him and all wrong, but that was to be expected. Terran architecture was not made to please the eye. The space was too orderly, rigid in its angles, too efficient. It did not look “lived in,” did not invite you to see anything but the merchandise on display. The room did not welcome you the way a Darkovan shop would. The lighting was too harsh, not natural for his eyes, used to the red sun of his world. Too white. He squinted a little and tried to ignore the strangeness and see the “something” David wanted him to see. “No. Nothing unusual, David, except the woman looks like she was reaching for something and there is nothing there.”
“Good catch, Captain. She was, and it isn’t.” David pointed at the woman’s hand. “She was going to pick up a copper bowl to polish it – notice the cloth in her other hand.”
“Yes, I see it now. She is leaning on the counter top, and the cloth is protecting the glass from her leaving fingerprints.”
David manipulated the control on the keyboard, and the picture began to move. “This is in slow motion, Mikhail. Watch carefully.”
The woman withdrew her hand from under the glass counter and turned it toward her face. Mikhail saw her mouth something in alarm. A shadow blurred away from the counter top and streaked to the far corner of the room. Mikhail’s eyes followed its passage and saw it contract into an outline that appeared for a moment like a small human form. The shape misted into nothingness for a second, then flickered into a figure crouching down toward the floor, before being lost from view entirely.
“There is our ghost! Did you see it?” David pointed at the blank corner. Before Mikhail could answer, the image before him repeated itself, over and over again.
“I saw something flash across your screen, and I thought I saw it disappear, but I can’t be sure where it went. Can you slow the image down more, David? It all happened too fast.”
“I tried, but no. Not even our techs could do any better. Our camera at least caught an image; the attendant didn’t see or hear anything. Watch her hand.”
The woman flexed her fingers, then reached back into the display case to grope around the area where the bowl had lain. Her pointer finger rested on the cloth the bowl had been lying on, then moved over to another bowl sitting next to the cloth. She picked up that bowl and brought it out to be polished, shaking her head in wonder.
David stopped the moving image at that point. “She went on with her polishing. At the end of the day, when she was off shift, an inventory of the bowls on display found one missing. Of course, it was reported. A search was made, but it was not found. There is no way she could have removed it from the Exchange. The metal detectors would have picked it up immediately. She is quite distraught that she could be blamed for the theft. Maria is one of our oldest and most trustworthy employees. She insists that the bowl was found missing after her shift was over.”
“I assume you have ‘examined’ her with your machines to see if she is telling the truth.”
“Umm, her reaction to the questioning left no doubt as to her innocence. The bowl was of significant value to one of us, based on the artistic etchings in the metal, but the fact that it was pure copper made it by weight almost invaluable to a Darkovan. We watch these things very carefully. Maria knows this, having worked here for many years. She acknowledged the lapse in memory but thought it was because of her being distracted by the noise at the entrance of the store.”
“What noise?” Mikhail asked.
“A customer tripped and almost fell coming through the front entrance. The man yelled something like ‘Hey, watch it. Don’t push,’ then looked around in confusion as nobody was behind him.”
The Guard captain rubbed his jaw. “Your ghost must have entered at that moment, but why didn’t the customer see it? That thief is awfully fast, and apparent small in stature, but I would have bet the man should have seen something.”
David shook his head. “I questioned him later. He swore that he hadn’t seen anybody. In fact, he claimed he had not yelled anything but a surprised yelp at his own clumsiness.”
“Is this all of the moving images you have of your ghost?” Mikhail asked.
“Yes. We have had several more reported incidents of personnel ‘missing’ things but have had no luck proving a theft had occurred. Most of the disappearing objects have been ordinary tools gone from tool cribs or left unattended for extended periods of time and not where the user expected to find them.”
Mikhail looked over at his young cousin. “Most of these objects are metal?”
Eddard nodded. “And they are easily concealed, but big enough for our metal detectors anywhere on base to set off an alarm – hasn’t happened anywhere on base. I’m wondering, sir, could this be the work of a kyrri?”
Frowning, Mikhail looked at David to see if the Darkover species drew any sign of recognition from him. The expression on David’s face proved that it had. It would have been surprising if David, as the officer-in-charge of Terra’s Search and Rescue department, had not studied Cottman IV’s life forms. Mikhail asked David. “What do you know of kyrri?”
“A humanoid species that appears to be indigenous to this planet, with a sub-human culture that has evolved beyond simple tool usage. Until recently Terrans thought them speechless – we now know they have a form of psionic communication. That’s how your people learned the kyrri were intelligent enough to be trained in simple tasks. They use them as servants in your ‘Towers.’”
“Not quite an accurate description of the kyrri, but as I suspect, David, it is how you Terrans think of them. I’m curious. You just said, ‘…until recently.’ When have you been to a tower and seen a kyrri?”
David ran a hand through his brush cut and shrugged. “That’s part of the long story to be told later. We observed one in the wild. He led us to a village that helped us a lot. They are more intelligent than we thought.”
“And this observed behavior convinced you that one of the People could be your ghost?” Mikhail directed the question to David but watched his cousin’s face for a reaction to the answer. Eddard looked at the floor.
David hemmed and hawed. “Well, you know. It seems like, how did you call them, the ‘People’ – yes, that’s it – the ‘People’ used laran to talk, and so it follows, they could use psionics like your tower-people…”
“Stop right there, Captain! The kyrri cannot use laran. If someone told you they can, they have fed you misinformation.” Mikhail watched Eddard shaking his head. “Is it in your ‘databanks’ that they can do this?”
David shook his head, too.
“Then the answer is, no. A kyrri is not your ghost. You cannot blame this on a simple animal like one of your Terran ‘raccoons’ that pilfers shiny things to take home to his nest.”
Looking decidedly unhappy, David said, “Which then leads me to conclude it must be a tower-dweller that is doing these thefts.”
“Zandru’s hell, that is even more ridiculous,” the guard Captain exclaimed. “It goes against everything our leroni believe in. No tower-trained sorcerer could ever hope to conceal such a theft from a keeper, let along from a fellow leronis. No knowledge can be gained from stealing trinkets and tools from you Terrans, certainly no monetary reward. It is beyond …”
“You said, ‘tower-trained sorcerer,’ Mikhail. Are there no Darkovans with laran running around loose? Scout Eddard said something about being tested for it – couldn’t someone have slipped through untested?”
Stricken at having his name brought into the conversation by his superior, Eddard blurted out, “Cousin, we have our own tales of rogue leroni…”
Putting a hand on his cousin’s arm, Mikhail stopped the outburst. “I’m sure there are a lot of tales of heroic, and non-heroic, exploits of leroni who have left the cloistered confines of a tower to seek adventure and fame. But there are many, many more tales of Darkovans who died of threshold sickness. We test for laran because without training it may kill those who show signs of its development.” Looking at David, he continued. “An untrained telepath is a danger to himself and to others. Could one have escaped notice? Not likely, but for the sake of your argument, say it is true. What do you want from us?”
“A leronis to catch a thief,” David answered grimly.
#
Istvanna stared down at the small boy dressed in Darkovan street urchin clothing splayed face up on the stretcher in David’s office. “Is he dead?” She glared at the Guard Captain. “You asked for my help to identify a corpse? Really, Mikhail, this is beneath you.”
David stepped between his friend and the middle-aged women dressed head-to-toe in the red robes of a leronis. “He is not dead, Maestra, just stunned.”
The two Darkovan nobles simultaneously gasped out, “Stunned?”
Raising his hands in a placating gesture, David backed to the stretcher lying across his working desk. “We had no choice. This kid has some form of mind control psionics. He makes people forget seeing him. We set a trap for him in the Exchange shopping area – a stun mine set to detect the movement of metal. It was our only hope of catching the thief.”
Istvanna, fuming, said, “The use of such a weapon is forbidden on Darkover. This is unforgivable! Cousin, you must report this to the Council immediately.”
Mikhail looked at David, then back to Istvanna. “Domna, I didn’t know this was Captain Fairechild’s plan to capture the thief. If I had known, I would have counseled him to find another way, but the use of Terranan weapons on their own base is allowed.”
“Not against our people!”
“Couldn’t be helped,” David interjected. “The mine dropped two of our own who were shopping at the time. Would have taken out the Darkovan contract employee, but we replaced her with a security guard undercover.” Appealing to the leronis, he said, “Ma’am, this kid is dangerous. Mikhail told me an untrained telepath…”
“… is a danger to himself and to others. Yes, I am well aware of what my cousin told you. I see the child is breathing. I shall start my examination now.”
Istvanna approached the stretcher and extended her hands over the body, moving them over the surface and stopping briefly over the boy’s chest. Reaching past the neck opening, she pulled out a necklace thong, followed by a small, felt pouch. She dropped it into a pocket at her waist and continued her search. David motioned to Mikhail, and the two captains withdrew to the other side of the office.
“What did she find?” David asked.
“From the way Istvanna is frowning, I’m suspect it is a starstone. This could take a while, maybe …”
Istvanna turned from the unconscious body and declared, “I cannot continue my examination under these conditions. I want her removed to the Citadel immediately, but first you must nullify the sedation that is keeping her unconscious.”
David said with surprise, “Her? Wait, but… If he, she gains consciousness…”
“The threat is past. Captain Mikhail, you will take custody of our injured subject. If you encounter any opposition from the Terranan authorities I will ensure the Regent files a grievance personally with the Legate’s superiors. Am I clear on what I am asking for, Captains?”
Mikhail stiffened at her order and turned to David, an apologetic set to his face. “David, you know the agreement between our worlds gives me the power to do what she is demanding. I accept full responsibility for everyone’s safety. Please help me get the prisoner off your base and give me the drug. I won’t administer it until she is safely away from all Terrans.”
“Damn it, Mikhail, before I can do that, the Legate will have to approve the prisoner’s release, and he won’t like being threatened. This will get out of hand real fast!”
Eddard approached his arguing superiors and politely interrupted them, with a worried glance at the leronis. “Excuse me, sirs, but the only Terran who heard the domna’s ‘threat’ was Captain Fairechild. I think he misinterpreted what she said.”
Puzzled, David said, “She spoke Terran standard, how…”
“Sirs. Remember that we asked for a Darkovan healer to examine our prisoner’s condition, as he/she was not responding to being stunned as we expected. The healer told us our prisoner needed to be placed under the immediate care of Darkovan psionics experts only available at one of their towers. Captain Fairechild agreed to move the prisoner as long as he accompanied him/her to retain custody until formal turnover procedures could be worked out. That is what I think I heard.”
Mikhail and David nodded. The Scout Captain said to Eddard, “Thanks for clearing that up. Now, let’s get our prisoner the help she needs.”
#
The three men watched while the young Darkovan woman, now dressed in a plain white robe, was escorted, fuming, to the waiting carriage and handed up to disappear inside. She was followed closely by Istvanna. The carriage quickly drove out the citadel’s courtyard gate escorted by a troop of Guard cavalry and disappeared down the busy main street of the town.
The Terran Scout Captain turned to the Guard officer beside him and said, “She doesn’t look too happy about being sent to the tower here in Thendara. I thought it was a great honor to be selected to work in a tower?”
Mikhail sighed. “It is and she isn’t – working, that is. The tower is where she can be isolated from others until she learns to behave herself.”
“Sounds like our definition of a prison. We at least have a trial before we convict our citizens. Granted she is not a Terran, but …”
Mikhail cut him off. “By the treaty agreement between our worlds, we take care of our own – whether they be a drunk tourist or a vicious murderer. Your Legate accepted this punishment, and a rather large compensation for such a petty crime as it was.”
“Justice is in the eye of the beholder. I want to know why she did what she did,” David said. And how she did it. “What did you learn from interrogating her?”
“It wasn’t an interrogation, David. She was brought here to be examined by Istvanna, who happens to be the king’s house leronis. Istvanna is a distant cousin from my father’s side of the family; that is why I asked for her help.”
David looked at Eddard. “Any relation to you? Don’t answer, you’ll just confuse me.” Turning back to Mikhail, he asked. “So – what’s her story?”
“Her name is Gwennis. Her mother made a meager living as a hedge witch here in our poorest side of town. A couple of years ago the mother passed, but not before she gave the daughter the starstone. Gwennis never knew who her father was because her mother would not speak of him.”
David pointed to the young scout standing next to him. “She has six fingers like Eddard. Is she a distant relative of yours?”
Mikhail snorted. “Six fingers are not prevalent in a lot of comyn families. You know I don’t have six fingers. Most likely she is a nedestra offspring of some minor lord. We’ll probably never know.”
David shrugged. “But she does possess laran.”
“She does. Istvanna says Gwennis is as hard to handle as a feral cat. She has been told that if she shows herself willing to behave and learn at the tower, she’ll get her stone back.”
David frowned. “I don’t think we have heard the last of this story.”
#
The door to his officer whooshed open, and David looked up to find a disheveled woman dressed in a dirty, white robe staring at him with her knotted hands planted firmly on her hips. It had been over a month since he had seen her last.
“Gwennis? How…”
“You have to help me. I can’t stand to be locked up in that tower anymore.” Gwennis threw up her arms and started pacing before his desk. “They took my stone away and wouldn’t give it back unless I showed a willingness to follow their rules. When I resisted, they threatened to touch it. Do you know what that does an empath? It was horrible. It scared me to death.”
“No, no, I don’t know anything about starstones. The Darkovans haven’t let our scientists examine them, but I doubt if your healers would harm anyone with torture. Perhaps it was done as part of your training. Istvanna said that she would make sure you got the stone back when you could be trusted with it.” David slowly stood and gestured to the chair next to his desk. “You need to calm down, young lady. Sit!”
Gwennis glared at him. She doesn’t like taking orders, David thought. Maybe I’m pushing her too hard. What if she…
The agitated girl took a deep breath and calmed herself, then sat. She looked at him as if she had heard his thoughts. David knew from the literature that psionics supposedly had that skill.
“I’m calm as you asked, and sitting. You need not fear me – I promise not to hurt you. I didn’t like being stunned.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. You were sent to a tower because you needed training. It’s been over a month, and we haven’t heard anything from the Darkovans about your progress.”
Gwennis brushed a strand of reddish-blonde hair from her face. “After the demonstration of their power over me, I pretended to be the docile little girl they thought I should be. It wasn’t that hard. Those tower leroni think anybody in her right mind would want to become like them. Since I needed the stone to go through their training, they gave it back to me. So, I left.”
The frankness of her story worried David. It was so – well, emotionless. “How did you get past the guards and that force field that I’ve heard they have at the entrance of the tower? More importantly, how did you get past our sentries?”
Gwennis made a disdainful moue. “I didn’t bother. I climbed out my bedroom window and down the wall. They never would have thought of something that simple. As for your guards, the same way I did before. You Terrans really do believe in ghosts.”
“There’s the problem, Gwennis.” David walked back to his chair and sat. “You think only of yourself.”
Looking down at her hands, the young woman let the defiant pout slip from her face and said, “I am just trying to survive the best way I’ve been taught. I never tried to hurt anyone. My mother took away people’s memories to relieve them of the pain they were feeling – she used her power to ease suffering, not to make money.”
David felt sorry for the kid. Now he realized why the thefts were always small. With her talents, she could have made a much larger killing, but it would have brought a lot more attention to her activity. That would have led her to defend herself, and loss of life would follow close behind. “Stealing relieves nobody of anything but their money and only adds to their suffering. Locks are not made to keep thieves out, but to keep honest people honest. I am the Terran equivalent of a Guardsman, like Captain Mikhail. What do you want from me, Gwennis?”
Sitting erect in her chair, Gwennis stated forthrightly, “That Eddard boy is a Darkovan, isn’t he? He works for you. Why can’t I? There must be some use you could make of my, ahh, skills.”
David pondered. The fact that she evaded surveillance on my high security base, slipped easily through psionic barriers from her own people, and had the physical skills to climb sheer walls – yeah, I could find work for her. “Scout Eddard does not have psionic skill – the thing you call laran.”
A slight smile appeared on Gwennis’ lips. “I know.”
“That is also why I might not want you. You will have to make an attitude adjustment before I trust you not to read my mind – if you can do such a thing.”
The smile disappeared from her lips.
“Good. I just might be able to arrange something.”
#
The carriage waited near the front gate of the Terran base, its door open. Two uniformed scout security personnel marched through the gate and approached three Darkovans standing alongside the carriage.
“You understand there is no formal agreement on what you have proposed, David.”
“True, if you mean there is nothing in writing or recorded orally that constitutes a legal compact between our governments. As in the case of Eddard, the services to be rendered by Gwennis fall into that same category – paid employee with restrictions on off-world deployment. Yes, Mikhail, I’m aware all of this is dependent on a gentlemen’s agreement among all participants.”
Gwennis said barely under her breath, “I’m not one of the gentle people.”
David addressed her remark. “Not yet, you are a proven thief and a breaker-of-laws. You will have to swear under a truth spell – I believe that is the correct terminology Darkovans use – that you will not steal anymore. And you will commit yourself to getting basic training at the tower before you start your employment with us. One step away from your agreement, and you’ve lost your chance with us.”
“I will not be used by the tower people …”
Istvanna cut her off. “This Terranan is willing to have you work for him. Why? I don’t know. Probably to train you as a spy – not that it would ever work with you being watched constantly by leroni.”
Shaking his head, David said to the glowering woman, “No more than Eddard is a spy for us. You have told us that an untrained psionic is a danger to all. All we are asking is that Gwennis receive enough training to make her an acceptable member of both our communities. She has the right to refuse her services to you, as she has so stated. She can also refuse the services of her skills to us – whatever those skills are.”
Mikhail turned to Gwennis. “This agreement is based entirely on trust. I trust David to keep his word because I have worked with him and respect what he has done for Darkover. You will earn my trust if you fulfill your agreement with David on the conditions of your employment. The choice is yours, damisela.”
Gwennis nodded and stepped into the waiting carriage.
Welcome to the October 2018 issue of my newsletter, “News from the Crypt,” and please visit Carter’s Crypt, devoted to my horror, fantasy, and paranormal romance work, especially focusing on vampires and shapeshifting beasties. If you have a particular fondness for vampires, check out the chronology of my series in the link labeled “Vanishing Breed Vampire Universe.” For my recommendations of “must read” classic and modern vampire fiction, explore the Realm of the Vampires:
Realm of the Vampires
Also, check out the multi-author Alien Romances Blog
The long-time distributor of THE VAMPIRE’S CRYPT has closed its website. If you would like to read any issue of this fanzine, which contains fiction, interviews, and a detailed book review column, e-mail me to request the desired issue, and I’ll send you a free PDF of it. My e-mail address is at the end of this newsletter. Find information about the contents of each issue on this page of my website:
A complete list of my available works, arranged roughly by genre, with purchase links (gradually being updated as the Amber Quill and Ellora’s Cave works are being republished):
This is my Facebook author page. Please visit!
Facebook
Here’s my page in Barnes and Noble’s Nook store. These items include some of the short stories that used to be on Fictionwise:
Barnes and Noble
Go here and scroll down to “Available Short Fiction” for a list of those stories with their Amazon links:
Kindle Works
Here’s the list of my Kindle books on Amazon. (The final page, however, includes some Ellora’s Cave anthologies in which I don’t have stories):
Carter Kindle Books
Here’s a shortcut URL to my author page on Amazon:
Amazon
Happy Halloween!
Harlequin has scheduled a 31-percent-off Halloween sale. On Halloween, visit their website and apply this code: NEVERMORE31
For those who haven’t read EMBRACING DARKNESS, a stand-alone vampire romance in my “Vanishing Breed” universe, here’s a chance to buy the e-book at a large discount:
An excerpt appears below. Heroine Linnet and hero Max (a vampire, though she doesn’t know that yet) are preparing to interrogate a minion of the female vampire responsible for the deaths of Linnet’s niece and Max’s younger brother.
G. Kent (whose vampire trilogy I review below) posted a wonderful 5-star review of DARK CHANGELING on Amazon:
Amazon Review of Dark Changeling
October’s interviewee is multi-genre romance author Marie Dry.
*****
Interview with Marie Dry:
Thanks for having me over Margaret. I love talking about writing and my stories.
*What inspired you to begin writing?*
I’ve made up stories ever since I can remember. I first wrote something down at seven. Sadly that masterpiece was lost.
*What genres do you work in?*
I have one Paranormal Romance book and six Science Fiction Romance Books published. I am also working on a steampunk trilogy, contemporary romance and more Paranormal Romance Series and a Dragon Story. If it’s a romance genre I probably have an idea somewhere in a file or on my computer that will fit the genre.
*Do you outline, “wing it,” or something in between?*
I “wing it”. I’d love to be able to outline and shave some time off my process but that just doesn’t work for me. Any planning I do is with character development. I always have this suspicion that people that plot know things I’m supposed to know.
*What have been the major influences on your writing (favorite authors, life experiences, or whatever)?*
Jayne Anne Krentz is one of the biggest influences. A few of my favorite authors are Nalini Singh, Georgette Heyer, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Christine Feehan and of course my CP Cassandra L. Shaw and many more. The stories have always been there, I think of myself as a story teller and through good times and bad I could depend on the characters in my head to get me through anything.
*How would you describe your dragons?*
Different from what you’d expect a dragon to be and about to meet a catalyst in the form of my heroine.
*How do your vampires differ from the “traditional” type?*
They are elitist and arrogant, so not that much different from most vampires. When I write Alaina and the Vampire I will learn more about them.
*What’s your world-building procedure for alien cultures? Do you keep a series “bible” for each of your series?*
I have a rough bible for the Zyrgin Warrior series. I have an extra set of my books which I use to keep myself reminded of all the facts in the series. It’s full of post-it stickers and with relevant passages highlighted. I do world building the way I plot. By the seat of my pants.
*What is your latest or next-forthcoming book (or both)?*
Dawn of the Cyborg came out 1 September and next will be Alien Redeemed. After that I will either write the next Cyborg or Alien Rescue.
*What are you working on now?*
Alien Redeemed.
*What advice would you give to aspiring writers?*
Write every day, enjoy the writing process and learn the craft of writing. But above all enjoy the characters in your head and their stories.
*What’s the URL of your website? Your blog? Where else can we find you on the web?*
*****
Some Books I’ve Read Lately:
GRANADA HILLS BLOOD WAR and GRANADA HILLS BLOOD LUST, by G. Kent. These two novels complete the vampire trilogy begun in GRANADA HILLS BLOOD. In the first novel, Bach, a native of Bakersfield, California, now living and teaching high school in Granada Hills, gets transformed into a vampire. He quits his job, embraces a new lifestyle, and learns of the ongoing feud between the minority of killer vampires and the generally benign majority. Bach reconnects with Annie Mosher, a former girlfriend, who aligns with the killer vampires and betrays him. He converts and falls in love with a woman named Sophie. In the second and third novels, Bach becomes more deeply initiated into the vampire world. He meets older, wiser undead and teams up with police officers who know about the killer vampires and, in a sometimes precarious alliance, fight against them alongside the non-killers. Annie reappears, her allegiance and moral stance remaining ambiguous. Some people Bach honors and cares for die. In the course of the “blood war,” he discovers the dangerously addictive quality of draining blood, especially vampire blood, in act of killing. Bach’s California milieu is permeated with popular culture, especially the movies of recent decades. Film stars are frequently name-checked and sometimes appear in person. The practice of including living celebrities as characters strikes me as legally risky, although at least the narrator doesn’t say anything derogatory about them. Johnny Depp appears as a vampire, but he’s a nice one. I admire the way this author gives his vampires several unique features. A fledgling vamp will become ill if he tries to go outside the boundaries of his territory. He also needs to consume blood from residents of his home territory. As a vampire grows older, his or her range gradually expands. Although these vampires do need blood, they can also eat and drink ordinary foods and beverages. In an intriguing innovation, mercury acts like “kryptonite” for vampires. A knife blade or a bullet coated with mercury can seriously wound or even kill one of the undead. Bach struggles with not only addiction to the kill (a not-uncommon motif in vampire fiction), but also, more unusually, with depression, personified as the “black dog” of melancholy. It bothers me that Bach so casually resorts to stealing to support himself (even if he can’t teach or coach in the high school anymore, there are plenty of night jobs he might work at). Otherwise, though, he’s a pretty decent guy. Fans of stories that explore the plight of an ordinary person adjusting to the demands of a vampire existence should enjoy this trilogy.
ALTERNATE ROUTES, by Tim Powers. This is a rich and strange work of fantasy, as one would expect from the author of THE STRESS OF HER REGARD and THE ANUBIS GATES. This latest novel reveals ghosts haunting the Los Angeles freeway system. The “currents” generated by the flow of traffic on the freeways attract the spirits of the dead. Ex-Secret-Service agent Sebastian Vickery (not his real name) is in danger from a covert branch of his former service that investigates the freeway ghosts or, as they’re officially labeled, “deleted persons.” Vickery had to leave the Secret Service when he accidentally overheard a fragment of speech the authorities didn’t want him to know about. Now he drives for a “supernatural evasion car service” (as the cover blurb puts it) disguised as a fleet of food trucks. In the first chapter, Ingrid Castine, an agent who has become disillusioned with her organization, saves his life in a gunfight. Thus begins a shared road trip along the highways of both mundane southern California and a surreal alternate dimension. The covert agents, under the supervision of Terracotta, a creepy antagonist who has rejected the concept of free will and the reality of consciousness, monitor and sometimes communicate with deleted persons. Precautions must be taken; for instance, if you speak to a ghost in complete sentences, it may be able to track you down. Therefore, a circle of three or four agents reads a message from a written script, one word per person at a time. As fugitives on the L.A. freeways, Vickery and Castine seek help from several quirky characters. Also, Vickery encounters his dead wife, who committed suicide after learning that they couldn’t conceive children (because he had a vasectomy before they met). The conventional wisdom holds that ghosts aren’t the people they appear to be, but only simulacra with their memories. Yet they THINK they are the people who died, so don’t they deserve to be treated with consideration? In addition to the spirits of the dead, the freeway also harbors the “never born,” shades of individuals who might have existed in a different reality but never lived in ours. Vickery and Castine meet one such shade, his potential daughter. When Castine drives onto an on-ramp that shouldn’t be there and instantly vanishes after passing through the portal, Vickery follows her into the other dimension to bring her back. They have to anchor themselves against the chaos of that realm by fixating on logical, immutable facts such as basic math. They each carry a string abacus and constantly remind each other (for example) that two and two equal four. At the heart of the chaotic landscape stands “the factory,” opposite to the ever-shifting unreality of that world—a site, rather, of “hyper-reality.” Similarly to the mythological allusions in THE STRESS OF HER REGARD, this novel identifies the alternate-dimension freeway Labyrinth with the maze constructed by Daedalus in Greek legend. ALTERNATE ROUTES offers a riveting combination of terror, courage, love, and fascinatingly weird science-fantasy inventiveness.
FLIGHT OR FRIGHT, edited by Stephen King and Bev Vincent. A mostly-reprint anthology of horror stories featuring airplanes. It begins with an introduction by King and ends with an afterword by Vincent, and King prefaces each story with brief commentary. “About the Authors” includes a full paragraph of biographical background on each contributor. The contents range as far into the past as “The Horror of the Heights,” a terrifying adventure by Arthur Conan Doyle, and Ambrose Bierce’s sardonic short-short piece, “The Flying Machine.” The best-known tale in the batch is Richard Matheson’s “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” about an airline passenger who spots a gremlin on the wing, filmed as a classic TWILIGHT ZONE episode. Almost all the others were new to me. This book provides a valuable historical overview of air travel as a motif in horror fiction. Naturally, I like some of the stories more than others, but they all showcase high-quality writing. Two were written especially for this volume: “The Turbulence Expert,” by Stephen King, features a man who has the covert job of riding on commercial flights, going through traumatic psychic ordeals to prevent them from crashing. “You Are Released,” by King’s son Joe Hill, told from the viewpoints of multiple passengers and crew members on a commercial jet, follows the airliner’s suspenseful quest for safe harbor after an international crisis erupts into war. My one gripe about this volume is that the stories appear neither in alphabetical order by author nor in chronological order of publication (which would be preferable). Why do so many anthologies have apparently random layouts?
*****
Excerpt from EMBRACING DARKNESS:
The door behind her swung open. Linnet jumped. In the heat of the conversation, she’d forgotten about Max lurking outside. He darted around her so fast her head spun, grabbed the young man, and shoved him onto the couch. “Linnet, lock the door,” he growled without looking at her.
Shaking, she fumbled for the doorknob, closed and locked the door, and hooked the chain. The man didn’t even try to fight off Max. Instead, he gibbered incoherent phrases that conveyed nothing but terror.
“Shut up.” At Max’s quiet command, the man fell silent. “You will be quiet and listen. You will not speak or move unless I order you to. Is that clear?” The man nodded. Though he slumped, with his arms limp at his sides, his eyes stayed wide open. “Good. Now sit still.”
Linnet couldn’t help retreating a step when Max walked over to her. “You hypnotized him somehow.” She’d never heard of any form of hypnosis that worked so fast, with no soothing chants or shiny focal objects.
“More or less.” His hands skimmed up her bare arms to settle on her shoulders.
Recalling the vertigo that swept over her each time his eyes captured hers, she said, “You tried to do the same to me. But you can’t.”
“So I’ve concluded. Very intriguing.” One of his hands crept from her shoulder to her neck. His cool fingers on the flushed skin made her shiver. “But I don’t want you to hear my conversation with our host, so—”
She felt pressure on the side of her neck. Gray spots clustered before her eyes. He’s strangling me! The gray thickened to black. With a sensation like a rapid fall in an elevator, she tumbled into the blackness.
-end of excerpt-
*****
My Publishers:
Writers Exchange E-Publishing: Writers Exchange
Harlequin: Harlequin
Hard Shell Word Factory: Hard Shell
Whiskey Creek: Whiskey Creek
You can contact me at: MLCVamp@aol.com
“Beast” wishes until next time—
Margaret L. Carter
Welcome to the September 2018 issue of my newsletter, “News from the Crypt,” and please visit Carter’s Crypt, devoted to my horror, fantasy, and paranormal romance work, especially focusing on vampires and shapeshifting beasties. If you have a particular fondness for vampires, check out the chronology of my series in the link labeled “Vanishing Breed Vampire Universe.” For my recommendations of “must read” classic and modern vampire fiction, explore the Realm of the Vampires:
Realm of the Vampires
Also, check out the multi-author Alien Romances Blog
The long-time distributor of THE VAMPIRE’S CRYPT has closed its website. If you would like to read any issue of this fanzine, which contains fiction, interviews, and a detailed book review column, e-mail me to request the desired issue, and I’ll send you a free PDF of it. My e-mail address is at the end of this newsletter. Find information about the contents of each issue on this page of my website:
A complete list of my available works, arranged roughly by genre, with purchase links (gradually being updated as the Amber Quill and Ellora’s Cave works are being republished):
This is my Facebook author page. Please visit!
Facebook
Here’s my page in Barnes and Noble’s Nook store. These items include some of the short stories that used to be on Fictionwise:
Barnes and Noble
Go here and scroll down to “Available Short Fiction” for a list of those stories with their Amazon links:
Kindle Works
Here’s the list of my Kindle books on Amazon. (The final page, however, includes some Ellora’s Cave anthologies in which I don’t have stories):
Carter Kindle Books
Here’s a shortcut URL to my author page on Amazon:
Amazon
Happy Labor Day to my American readers!
G. Kent, author of the “Granada Hills” vampire trilogy, gave my DARK CHANGELING, vampire horror with romantic elements, a 5-star review on Amazon:
He says:
“The book is an absolute page-turner, and you don’t have to be a fan of the genre to delight in the hunger and intoxication. Highly recommended!”
Below is an excerpt from “Dusting Pixie,” a humorous fantasy short story in my Kindle collection HARVEST OF MAGIC, which you can find here:
This month, I’m interviewing multi-genre author Nancy Northcott.
*****
Interview with Nancy Northcott:
What inspired you to begin writing?
I’ve always been interested in “What if…?” That led me to writing Legion of Super-Heroes fan fiction, and people who read my stories encouraged me to create my own worlds.
What genres do you work in?
I write paranormal romantic suspense, nonmagical romantic suspense, historical fantasy, and space opera.
Do you outline, “wing it,” or something in between?
I guess I’m in between. I outline major turning points, but I give myself permission to change them if I get an idea I really love.
What have been the major influences on your writing (favorite authors, life experiences, or whatever)?
I grew up reading comic books, Nancy Drew, historical fiction, and YA romance. If you look at my bookshelf, you can see the influences of those childhood favorites.
Do you maintain “series bibles” for your various series?
This is one of those “should” things. *g* I have one for the Outcast Station space opera series because my co-author, Jeanne Adams, and I could never have collaborated on the world without one. My Light Mages do not have one, alas, and they really need one. So do the other series, but the rest aren’t far enough along to make writing the bible daunting. The Light Mage Wars are, though. I need to block out time and just do that.
Please tell us about Wayfarer, Georgia.
It’s a small town near the Okefenokee Swamp. Wayfarer is different from most small, southern towns in that the whole town loves the paranormal. It’s a very New Age place, with the Serenity’s Rainbow coffee shop, Fairy’s Table bakery, etc. I grew up in a small, southern town, and while it was somewhat annoying have everyone in everyone else’s business, the sense of community made a lot of that okay. So I wanted Wayfarer to have that.
I created the town when I wrote Renegade because I didn’t want Griffin Dare, the hero, to be totally alone. He was a fugitive from mage justice, but I wanted him to have a place he could belong. That was the seed that sprouted into Wayfarer.
What are the basic principles of magic in your Light Mages series?
It’s nature-based magic. Mages draw natural energy from the world around them. There’s only so much one can draw at a time, and the power requires replenishment. The mages’ deadly enemies, the ghouls, have magical power, but it’s dark energy. Any power they absorb goes dark.
Please tell us about some of the resources available under “Extras” on your website.
You may have noticed that I’m still working on that area. What I have posted is kind of a hodge-podge. I have tips on contest entries and conference interactions for control freaks. I also have an essay about my longstanding interest in Richard III and the controversy surrounding him. That interest inspired my Boar King’s Honor trilogy.
The next release in the Light Mage Wars, Nemesis, is set in Brunswick and Savannah, Georgia, more than it is in the Okefenokee. I have a blog post called “On Location: Nemesis” with photos of the places I visited researching that book. I hope to do posts like that for every series, though probably not for every book.
There are also thumbnail summaries of books I’ve found informative about historical periods, mostly medieval England. I’m a history geek, so I love reading about the ways people lived in earlier eras.
What is your latest or next-forthcoming book (or both)?
My next release is Nemesis, the next Light Mage Wars book. It’s about Tasha Murdock and Carter Lockwood, two mages who met a decade ago, when both were serving in the US Navy, but parted on bad terms. It’s set up by a scene in Warrior, the prior book in the series, where the two meet again. Now she’s a general contractor and interior designer and he’s a deputy shire reeve, the mage world’s equivalent of a Deputy US Marshal.
Duty kept them apart before. Now danger reunites them, with Carter determined to protect Tasha from the ghouls targeting her. Of course the old attraction between them blooms, but a secret in her past makes her reluctant to believe what they have can last.
What are you working on now?
I’m working on a fantasy project that’s too unformed to discuss yet and on my novella for Christmas on Outcast Station, the followup Jeanne Adams and I are doing to our anthology Welcome to Outcast Station. It’s space opera, and we’ll each have a novella in it.
What advice would you give to aspiring writers?
Study the craft. Learn characterization, conflict, and structure. Learn punctuation and grammar because they help writers express ideas clearly.
What’s the URL of your website? Your blog? Where else can we find you on the web?
My website is Nancy Northcott, and the blog, where I post very irregularly, is linked to the homepage. On Twitter, I’m @NancyNorthcott, and my Facebook page is Facebook.
Thanks for having me, Margaret!
*****
Some Books I’ve Read Lately:
DEEP ROOTS, by Ruthanna Emrys. A sequel to WINTER TIDE, the first book in the Innsmouth Legacy series, in which we met Aphra Marsh, her brother, Caleb, and their foster-sister, Neko (whose family, during World War II, had been confined to the same internment camp where the survivors of the raid on Innsmouth had been imprisoned). In WINTER TIDE, Aphra and the other characters developed relationships with, among others, Professor Trumbull of Miskatonic University, whose mind had spent years on a distant planet while her body hosted a member of the alien race called Outer Ones, and FBI agent Ron Spector, who sympathizes with the Innsmouth remnant and has become almost a friend. In DEEP ROOTS, Aphra and Caleb are trying to track down other survivors or people with at least some Deep One blood in order to rebuild Innsmouth. They find a young man named Freddy, part Deep One, who’s involved with the Outer Ones. In the process of negotiating the tricky interactions that result, they also run into the Mi-Go, an even more enigmatic and potentially dangerous alien species. On top of the preternatural threats, Aphra and her friends have to adjust to the unfamiliar milieu of New York. I always enjoy a good revisionist Lovecraftian tale, and this series definitely qualifies. Through Aphra’s first-person narrative, we see her people as, rather than hideous hybrid abominations, simply another race with their own customs, gods, and history of persecution. Other characters’ viewpoints also appear, and the author helpfully provides date headers to help the reader keep track of the chronological shifts. The two species of aliens, the Innsmouth folk, and agents of the federal government interact in tense but not necessarily hostile confrontations. In the story thus far, Aphra doesn’t attain her goal as she originally envisions it, but she does reach a tentative compromise she can live with.
SILVER ON THE ROAD, by Laura Anne Gilman. This 2015 novel, first in the Devil’s West series, takes place in an alternate nineteenth-century North America divided into the United States in the east, the Spanish Protectorate in the southwest (a larger area than in our history), “unclaimed lands” in the northwest, and, between the Spanish and American possessions, the Territory. A man known as the devil rules the Territory from his headquarters at the saloon/casino in the small frontier town of Flood. It gradually becomes clear that he isn’t literally Satan, the fallen angel, but he’s definitely some kind of supernatural being who drives hard but fair bargains. Sixteen-year-old Isobel has grown up in the saloon as the devil’s ward, indentured to him by her parents when she was only two. She’s comfortable in her life there, hard-working though it is, and thinks of the devil as simply “the boss.” On her sixteenth birthday, however, her indenture expires, and she must choose the direction of her future. She wants to stay in Flood, working directly for the boss, and he agrees to enter a contract with her. She becomes the Devil’s Left Hand, destined to represent him to the people of the Territory. To her dismay, the first thing she has to do is leave her home and travel around the land, learning its ways and her own abilities. The boss makes a bargain with a stranger in town, Gabriel, to act as her guide and mentor, teaching her how to survive on the road. She already knows a lot about such vital matters as using silver for protection, being careful at crossroads, and avoiding magicians, but she has much more to learn. Gabriel, born in the Territory, trained as a lawyer in the urban American east, and now returned “home,” has his own secrets. On their journey, he teaches her both mundane wilderness survival skills and supernatural lore she hasn’t previously encountered. He’s quite human, though, while Isobel’s bargain with the devil grants her preternatural gifts she must explore and learn to control. Along the way, they meet a magician, an often annoying trickster character who latches onto them as a traveling companion and sort-of ally. A strong relationship develops between Isobel and Gabriel, although with no tinge of romance, given their age difference (so far, anyway). Demons as well as other dangers prowl the Territory. Eventually Isobel and Gabriel discover a dark force rampaging and killing across the land, worse than any demon. The world-building, vividly described and often menacing settings, and strong characters make this novel well worth the attention of dark fantasy fans.
SEA WITCH, by Sarah Henning. This revisionist novel based on “The Little Mermaid” tells the tale of a girl who ultimately becomes the Sea Witch of the fairy tale. It’s set in a version of nineteenth-century Denmark where magic is real. (I assume that to be the period because, although sailing ships predominate, steam technology has been introduced.) Even though no witches have been burned in a very long time, witchcraft is known to exist and is feared and loathed. Evie, an ordinary girl aside from her hidden magical power, narrates her story in first-person present tense. (I hope this fad for present-tense narration fades away soon.) Periodic flashbacks in third-person past tense fill in the backstory. Thus we learn of the incident in Evie’s childhood when she and her best friend, Anna, almost drowned. Their mutual friend, Nik, crown prince of their small country, and his cousin, Prince Iker, succeeded in rescuing Evie, but Anna died. Although Evie is only the daughter of the royal fisherman, she is allowed to visit the castle at will and remain friends with Nik. For this reason, and because many people blame her for Anna’s death, she’s treated with suspicion and resentment. She lives with her aunt, a witch, and secretly practices whatever scraps of witchcraft she manages to learn on her own. One day a strange girl appears out of nowhere. Named Annemette, she looks to Evie exactly like a grown-up version of Anna. Annemette, however, emphatically denies being Evie’s dead friend somehow resurrected. She does have a secret, though. She soon reveals to Evie that she is a mermaid in human form, fated to die if she doesn’t win Nik’s love within four days. Evie introduces her into the prince’s circle under the guise of a baron’s daughter. While Annemette tries to exert her wiles on Nik, Evie and Iker begin to fall in love. Has the alleged mermaid told the full truth about her past and her agenda? The answers unfold with surprising and potentially tragic plot twists, changing Evie’s life in a profound way. My only minor objection (aside from the present-tense narrative) is that until late in the book the flashbacks don’t name the characters, labeling them only “the boy,” the blonde girl, and the dark-haired girl; this device strikes me as an unnecessarily confusing affectation. Otherwise, I highly recommend the novel.
THE CHANGELING, by Victor LaValle. Apollo Kagwa’s wife, Emma, commits a horrific deed, apparently under the influence of postpartum psychosis, and then vanishes. In desperation, Apollo (after a period of hospitalization to recover from his injuries) perpetrates an irrational crime that gets him sentenced to two months in prison. After being paroled, he begins searching for Emma, led on by cryptic clues that draw him into a surreal world beneath the surface of workaday reality, whose existence he never would have suspected. This much, we learn from the cover blurb. To my surprise, the novel starts with the meeting of Apollo’s parents, a mixed-race couple. His father disappears during Apollo’s childhood, leaving the boy with recurrent dreams in which his father returns for him. Apollo grows up to be a dealer in used and rare books. He marries Emma, a librarian, and they have a much-loved baby son. When the baby, Brian (named after Apollo’s long-lost father), is about six months old, Emma, sinking ever deeper into depression, is heard to mutter, “It’s not a baby.” Then things start to get strange. Apollo’s quest for the truth reveals layers upon layers of deceit and illusion. On top of the fantastic problems and risks he confronts, we aren’t allowed to forget that he and the friend who helps him have to cope constantly with the mundane pitfalls of navigating a white-dominated society as black men. Is he facing an epidemic of postpartum psychosis, a paranoid feminist cult, or a genuine changeling phenomenon? Although the story and characters enthralled me, well past the midpoint of the book I began to wonder whether it would turn out to have any fantasy content at all. Despair not, fans of fairy-tale motifs transplanted into a contemporary setting; it does. This gripping tale features characters who are flawed yet deeply sympathetic and offers a new slant on the changeling motif.
*****
Excerpt from “Dusting Pixie”:
Who would have expected magic to shed so much dust? Ardyth certainly hadn’t visualized it as a major part of her apprenticeship in witchcraft with her Aunt Zenobia. Tearing open yet another crate, Ardyth sneezed at the puff of dust that billowed from the mildewed tomes inside. She still had to unpack three of the seven boxes Zenobia had brought from the estate of an old friend of hers, the recently deceased wizard Zaddok.
Ardyth set a stack of books on the floor and paused to brush her brown curls, frizzed from humidity and stray magical energy, off her forehead. Most of the miscellaneous books and paraphernalia in these boxes would probably prove to be worthless and wind up in the cramped chamber at the far end of the attic where unwanted junk was stowed, never to be seen again. Since Zenobia’s cottage, like most witches’ and wizards’ homes, was bigger inside than out, with more rooms than the inhabitants could keep track of, there was no incentive to throw anything away. Still, Ardyth had to inspect every item one by one, no magical shortcuts, in case anything valuable turned up. Zenobia expected to find the job finished when she returned home the next day. She’d often said Ardyth had a strong mage gift but needed to learn focus, a goal these routine tasks were supposed to promote.
With a longing thought for her own experiments that languished in the workroom downstairs, Ardyth flipped through a tattered bestiary and set it aside. A gleam at the bottom of the crate caught her eye. Something under the books radiated multicolored light.
She pulled out the next layer of volumes and exposed a glowing crystal sphere. Her pulse quickening, she picked up the orb, which rested on an ivory base etched with runes and just big enough to cup in her two hands. A diminutive creature stared at her from inside the sphere. Mouse-sized and vaguely feminine, although draperies of prismatic mist swirled around its twig-thin body and concealed all details, the being had a halo of silver-blue hair that floated as if in an invisible wind.
It, or she, pounded tiny fists against the inside of the crystal and cried, “Help! Get me out!” Her birdlike voice sounded as sweet as wind chimes.
“Calm down. Who are you, and how did you get stuck in there?”
The sprite folded her arms, her silver eyes glowering. “My name is Iridia. An evil wizard imprisoned me in this arcane trap.”
“Why?” Ardyth had already learned enough about sorcery to refrain from assuming all magical beings, no matter how beautiful, were benign.
“I don’t know! Because he was evil,” the sprite retorted in an exasperated tone. “I never did anything but toil faithfully for him. Please work the spell to liberate me, and I shall reward you.”
-end of excerpt-
*****
My Publishers:
Writers Exchange E-Publishing: Writers Exchange
Harlequin: Harlequin
Hard Shell Word Factory: Hard Shell
Whiskey Creek: Whiskey Creek
You can contact me at: MLCVamp@aol.com
“Beast” wishes until next time—
Margaret L. Carter