Answers to No One

King Tamar sat alone. It drove her mad to be blind while her city, her people, were in peril. They were imperiled by the blazing red-white circle that, by her guard’s faltering description, filled half the night sky now. She had given them all tasks, duties to prepare the castle defenses, to prepare the city for the long night that could still fall. My vision will return. There will be much to do come dawn, either way.

She had decided the best place for her to be was the Alabaster Throne, where at least she could be a symbol of resolve and comfort to her people. Her heirs were safely on their way, bound for the far city of Caleron. They had fought her decision, but they had bowed to her Sight.

The king raised her head. Someone was there, standing a few feet from the throne, silent and unannounced. She craned her ears, trying to decide if she should rebuke this careless guard, but she could not hear the jingle of chain mail, or the creak of leather straps, or the slight tap of a blade against armor. As best she could tell, the someone was standing in the blue rectangle, recently vacated by the knight’s tribunal.

Someone walked closer.

“Could I stay with you a moment?”

King Tamar felt as though she was stepping across a dark pit and wished that she had not left her glaive in the sitting room floors below. “I am sorry, but I do not know you.”

A strong hand took hers. “You know me.”

“Though we have never met.” The king returned the grip, the way she might handle a viper.

“I was curious about something. You had them break bread together. Simple magic, old magic, from the very bones of the city. Only the hunter noticed. You wanted to bind together your little band of heroes. But why did you not tell them all that you saw?”

Tamar the Thrice Cursed smiled, all teeth. “I am a king. I owe answers to no one.”

“She will pay with the coin most dear. That is what you saw. Why did you not say it?”

Tamar reached up and methodically pulled the blood-soaked cloth from around her eyes. Blind eyes, dry-rimmed with red, but she wanted her questioner to see the iron. “There is always a Cost. I have paid it many times. My city, my children, the stones I bought with steel and death. If they were Heroes they would pay it gladly, but they are villains all, so I will spend their lives for them. I know what Tomorrow holds for them, all but the goblin. The boy’s future is a brown cloak, the girl’s is an empty cup. The monster will wither in a teardrop of stone. Is that what you ask? Is that what you want to know from a king?”

A gentle hand ran down the king’s face, and she slapped it away.

“I know a king’s burden.” The hand released her and was gone, but as Someone walked away the voice lingered, coiling around her like a green vine.

Tamar sat alone and thought of the falling sky she could not see and her father who was gone and the battles she had fought, young and bright, scattering memories like flower gems on a broken necklace—falling to break on the floor of her throne room. Then she thought of promises. Promises kept and promises yet to be fulfilled. This is the last curse. To see with eyes unclouded how utterly empty the Game. Block this cut, stamp out this blaze, rip out the beast’s heart again and again, but still it comes. Only Once—only one chance to stand, to move, to protect, to find the right path. Stone cracks, wind falters, sun fades, even Time erodes. I walk down a tunnel of wind with a fistful of sand. What does it matter if the asteroid falls? Everything ends—everything falls apart.

“The button falls off the coat,” the old woman said, but not even Someone was listening.

Excerpt from Asteroid Made of Dragons.

Surprise! Spell/Sword Audiobook Now Available

Now available on Audible, Amazon,and iTunes.  I haven’t been talking about this much, because I’ve had lots of AMOD on my plate – but this has been quietly progressing in the background and now it’s here!

For those unfamiliar:

spell_sword_cover_final
Audiobook!

Rime is a wild mage. She can bend the very fabric of reality, but at a cost – a cost to her health and her sanity. Her power is unstoppable but it leaves her empty, weak, and often unconscious. Jonas is a squire on the run – running away from the shadow of murder. They travel together to find the one person that can save Rime from the wild magic, from the inexorable madness and death that comes to those who are born to ignore the rules of the universe. The Gray Witch of the Wheelbrake Marsh, a creature out of a fairy tale.

The audiobook was produced and narrated by Rachel Ahrens (no web presence! – this just adds to my theory that she is some sort of wandering inter-dimensional sorceress) – and I cannot be more pleased with the final product. Her voice is wonderful and hypnotic, great shifts for the different character voices – I feel she really nails Jonas and the Gray Witch most deliciously. She was an absolute delight to work with and I cannot wait for everyone to enjoy her performance of the text. When you listen – MAKE SURE you leave a review on Audible – much like me, Rachel is just getting her start, and reviews are the lifeblood of writers and voice actors alike.

I hope this will be another doorway into my stuff in preparation for the release of Asteroid Made of Dragons coming from Inkshares in April. I really should wait until I have more time to properly launch this audiobook – but that just isn’t my style.

SO! It’s two days before Christmas – and I have promotional codes for free downloads of the audio book ( a 19.99 value, son!). How about I’ll take five of them and raffle them off to whoever comments on this post? Let’s say by 8 pm EST on Dec. 25th – sort of a last minute, last second Christmas gift. You have to comment here on my blog – no where else counts to be entered into the raffle. I’ll pick 5 people randomly from the comments and send them the promotional codes that night.

And GO!

 

Asteroids A-Z

Working with Inkshares and Girl Friday Productions on the editing of Asteroids Made of Dragons has been a profoundly crunchy experience. Lots of things I sort of expected, but presented with tireless rigor and depth that boggles my lazy writer tendencies to no end. But also I get little surprises like THIS! A breakdown of odd words and terms from the entire book – reading it is like an index of geeky madness, and it made me smile SO BIG.

If you’re really, really clever there are spoilers in this list – but only very mild AMOD-finalones. Think of this as a delightful grab-bag of the ridiculous things that the book contains.

A

the Academy

acquisitional

Al-Hazaar

the Alabaster Throne

Alain the White

amid, not amidst

among, not amongst

Archivus Eldracon (library)

Arkanic

Aufero

 

B

bankman

Bellwether Manor

the Black Moon

Blackstone (city)

blond/blonde (m/f)

blood dog

bog wraiths

Bolander (Minotaur)

Bragg Silverhammer

 

C

Caleron

Caleronai codex

Carroway (city)

chaos saw

Chester; Chet

Cooper’s Row

Corinth (city)

the Cormorant (boat)

crept, not creeped

 

D

Doma

dragonslayer

the Dragoon War

Dwarven (adj.)

 

E

eggplanty

the Empty Island

Eridia

 

F

Flenelle

Finding the Lost: A Researcher’s Guide to the Arkanic Civilization

the Fountain of Purity

 

G

gabble-blab

Gate City

glasschalk

the Glass Towers of Vo

glow globe(s)

Gilead (city)

Gilean (adj.)

the Grand Wizard

Gratha (woman)

gray, not grey

the Gray Witch

the Great Expedition

gryphon, not griffon

 

H

the Half-Ghost Armada

Hannibal al’Hazaar

heartblood

Hecate (sword)

a Hero; a Hero True; Hero of the Realm

High Valerian

hmmm

the Hollow

the Hunt (organization); the hunters

 

I

the Iron Legion; the Legion

izus

 

J

 

K

the Keep

King Tamar

the Knights of Gilead

the Knights of the Scroll

the Knights of the Sword

the Knights of the Wand

Korthan Zul

Kythera

 

L

the Law of the King

lordling

the Lost

 

M

the Magic Wild

tribes of Malgor

Measure Day

Melgatoth (wyrm villain)

Mount Cahill

Munch (Minotaur)

 

N

the Nameless God

Nasirah

necro-mori specimens

the Node

Nora (magic hound)

nose-boggled

not-metal (noun)

not-wood (noun)

 

O

Old Gilean (adj.)

the Order of the Key

 

P

the Paphyreal Stack

Parajuelego

Pasadena (roan)

the Pass Wall

peapod

Pice (city)

ping-pong

Precursor (adj.) Precursors (noun)

Providence Road

 

Q

Quorum

 

R

Radd Plateglass

the Raven (ship)

the Red Moon

the Red Wizard

repulsor buoys

roofmaster

 

S

the Sarmad

Sarmadi (adj.)

scrat

scroll board

Seafoam Trading Company (STC)

sellsword

Seroholm

sky cycle

the Shield Gates

Shield Wall

Shiloh (city)

Sidebat

the Sight (noun); Seen (verb)

the Singers

Sir Basil, Knight of the Wand

snaggle-toothed

Sparrow Unit

steepled (verb)

Sunhammer

the Swords of the Faith

Syprian

 

T

Tamar the Thrice Cursed

Tel

the Temple of the Nameless; the Temple

the Three-Toed Claw

Tobio

toma gate(s)

Tonic

Towerspan

traveled, not travelled

 

U

uhh

the Unbroken City of Kythera

 

V

Valeria

the Vampire Dread

the Vardeman Accords

the Vacuous Gargantua; the Gargantua (ship)

 

W

Waters & Moore Fiduciary Exchange

the Weary Titan

welp

the White Moon

wild mage

wyrm

 

X

 

Y

yo

 

Z

Zebulon

Zero (asteroid)

 

The Unquiet Streets and the Fear We Cannot Name

Edward Felspar

Crime Desk

Vyle Tymes – 15th of Psydros, 2015

We live in two cities. Though they share the same streets and the same names and the same buildings proud and tall. Cerulean street lights, crimson flags, the moonsilver steel of the Rail – all the same.  The city of Vyle: serene and shining, as clean as fresh clockwork.  Every citizen, no matter how mean, holds their head a little higher to count themselves a trueborn son or daughter of Vyle. We know our city, we love our city. But, of late, we all have begun to see a second city, a darker one, one that we do not recognize, one that we are not so proud to bear in our blood. One that we walk a little faster from to put lock and key between us and this second city, the hungry city that appears when the sun goes down.

The Constant Reader is familiar with the litany of crimes that have become common in the midnight streets of Vyle. The kidnapping of Haley Westermont this summer. The brutal pillaging of the Veritas Freight shipment. The invasion of homes for petty theft and larceny, the accosting of ladies after dark for nefarious purpose, the bodies found washed up in the harbor come dawn. Over these past many months the rate of crime has accelerated. The hungry city has streets made of teeth and there are few among us who have not felt the bite in our own families.

The question must be posed: why in the largest city on the continent, the home of

Tagma Brass HQ - Staff
Tagma Brass HQ – Staff

the most potent military force ever devised by the will of mortal men, has this quiet harvest of its citizens gone unchecked? This question has been posed, again and again, by this reporter and by many other frightened and concerned Vylians. Poliarchos Winston Gage of Tagma Brass has responded only with the most terse and unfulfilling of statements. “Patrols will be doubled during nighttime hours.” “Tagma Brass investigates every criminal report and does not rest until the guilty party is brought to justice.” “We have some reports of isolated incidents near Flux St. and the more unsavory corners of the city, but the vast majority of Vyle is completely safe at all hours.”

Safe where he lives, perhaps this is what Poliarchos Gage means.

Though there are no sources willing to go on record to the following information, the lapse in journalistic diligence can perhaps be forgiven. Most sources who have reliable information are terrified for their lives and livelihood, and what is proper to print here can safely, and sadly, be considered common knowledge to most citizens of Vyle below the rank of demiarchos. This increase in criminal activity and the furor and intensity that has been visited upon the citizens of Vyle can be tracked to one organization: the Black Cross Gang. Their base of operations is unknown, their full number is unknown, even the origin of their crude symbol and moniker remains under a deep cloud. What is known is their cruelty, their fierce despite for the law, and their unending avarice. Recognize them by the black bandannas they wear, and the all too often sign of a black cross or ‘X’ daubed on their clothes with coal or tar.

If you encounter them in the daylight city of Vyle, avoid if at all possible. If you encounter them in the midnight streets, only your own skill and the gods’ love walk with you as Tagma Brass will not stir to defend its citizens.

Whispers have also reached this reporter’s ears of the purported head of this vicious cadre of thieves and murderers, a person known only as ‘White Crown’.  No verifiable reports have been made of anyone seeing this person, it is not uncommon for criminal groups like this to create a fictional figurehead — a ‘boss’ figure that both lends to their mystique, and also allows for a ‘monster in the shadows’ to lean on as a negotiation or intimidation tactic.

This newspaper will continue to report as accurately and as fully as we can about these true events and fierce dangers that grow ever more present in our city. We live in two cities now, haunted by a Beast that we cannot see and we are not even given the privilege of calling by name. The fear that grips this reporter is: will there always be two cities? Or will we wake one morning to find the jaws of the midnight city has closed over our peaceful home forever, beyond all reclaiming?

E. Felspar is a staff writer for the Vyle Tymes. Communication may be sent to his box at the Vyle Tymes Offices with further reports and news of criminal activity.

Three-Syllable Gospel – Notes

As therefore it was not impossible to God to create such natures as He pleased, so it is not impossible to Him to change these natures of His own creation into whatever He pleases, and thus spread abroad a multitude of those marvels which are called monsters, portents, prodigies, phenomena, and which if I were minded to cite and record, what end would there be to this work? They say that they are called monsters, because they demonstrate or signify something; portents, because they portend something; and so forth. But let their diviners see how they are either deceived, or even when they do predict true things, it is because they are inspired by spirits, who are intent upon entangling the minds of men (worthy, indeed, of such a fate) in the meshes of a hurtful curiosity, or how they light now and then upon some truth, because they make so many predictions.

Saint Augustine, City of God, Book XXI, Chapter 8

Just a little something from researching next project. PAY NO ATTENTION.