To celebrate the release of A Layer of Ash, I'm posting two new supplemental short stories. These are in continuity with The Citadel of the Last Gathering and build out the setting, but neither directly concerns characters appearing in the main novels. To put it another way, skipping them won't detract from the experience of reading the books, but I'd like to hope reading them fleshes out the world a bit.
The Guest offers a look at the politics of Hathari as it would have been. The first novel, A Count of Five, contains background you'll need to understand what's going on. I recommended reading at least that far before looking at The Guest.
The Fall is set later in the timeline, between books five and six. It's intended to offer a little closure on the world of A Sea of Sky, so I'd suggest reading that before the short story.
These join The Truthspeaker and A Meeting in the Desert under the Short Fiction tab.
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Citadel of the Last Gathering Supplemental - First Two Stories Now Available!
I've added a new section to the Short Fiction tab for stories tying to the fantasy series, The Citadel of the Last Gathering. These will be short pieces connected in some way to the books - they'll contain minor characters, settings, or other elements touched on by the novels.
I think this goes without saying, but just in case: none of these will contain information necessary to follow the main story of the novels (if they did, they'd be part of the novels). But they allow me to build out the world a little more and incorporate a few ideas that didn't fit in the books.
The first two stories are now up. Both are intended to be read after the second book in the series, A Tide of Ice, though either can be read out of order or even as stand-alones.
The Truthspeaker is a short piece I originally wrote to get a better feel for setting and voice in A Tide of Ice. It's something of a prequel to most of the book, and it would work read before, after, or even as a standalone. I'm still suggesting you wait until after, but take that as a light recommendation.
The same is true of A Meeting in the Desert: this doesn't feature any characters appearing in the novels, and shouldn't spoil any plot points (though it may change your perspective on a minor piece of one character's backstory).
Sneak Preview: A Unique Sickness of Spirit
A Unique Sickness of Spirit, Book 3 of The Citadel of the Last Gathering, will be available for the Kindle on October 6th. You can pre-order now and get it delivered to your device the moment it's out.
Here's a short passage to hold you over until then:
Eventually, the path came to the remains of a stone bridge, which reached only a third of the way across a chasm several hundred feet wide. Alaji approached to examine the stonework.
"Careful,” Yemerik said. “I’m not sure that’s sturdy.”
“I won’t go far,” Alaji promised, taking a few steps onto the structure. Vines hung from the edges, and moss grew everywhere. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“It’s a bridge,” Phaesha said dismissively. “Or it was one.”
“They had ones like this in Hathari, but they were smaller. The stones were less… smooth.” Alaji said, kneeling down to run her fingers over the rocky floor. She rose and returned to the others, who were peering into the ravine. “I’m sorry. It’s still new to me.”
“It’s a good sign. Even in this state, it means the area is important enough to warrant attention. There are likely other roads nearby. We just have to get across. Fortunately, the slope looks gentle enough. We’ll have to be careful, but I think we’ll make it down alright.”
“I can barely see the bottom,” Phaesha replied. “I’d expect you’d want to wait for morning.”
“I didn’t like the look of those tracks,” Yemerik explained. “I’d rather not wait around for whatever made them to find us.”
“You’re assuming it’s not waiting for us down there,” Phaesha said.
“Well, I don’t have a better idea.” He turned to the others in case they did, but he was only met with blank faces. “I’ll go first then.” He lowered himself over the edge and slid down in as controlled a manner as possible, knocking several rocks loose as he did so. “I’m alright!” he called up, once he’d reached the bottom. “The smell is awful, but other than that it looks fine.” He stood up and began brushing the dust from his back. Behind him, he heard the sound of stones shifting. He stepped forward to give Alaji or Phaesha room.
“Yemerik! Look out!” Alaji screamed.
He turned to see something emerging from beneath the ruined bridge, crawling from a hidden cavern cutting into the hill. He could tell it was large – at least twice as tall as he was – but beyond that, it was a dark shape shifting in shadows.
Yemerik started away across the bottom of the ravine. Then, ahead of him, he saw a large rock lift up as something pushed it out of the way from underneath. He turned back. The thing coming from the bridge was joined by another, slightly smaller but still more than eight feet tall. Now that they were in the open, he caught a bit more detail in the moonlight: long slender limbs attached to fat, round bodies.
With a quick incantation, Phaesha hurled a blast of fire at the two by the bridge. They shrieked and covered their faces, though they’d barely been touched by the flames. In that instant, the light revealed green flesh spotted in warts. Alaji stepped into the chasm and began sliding down. One of the creatures heard her and turned.
Alaji jumped as she slid and stepped back in time mid-leap. Once again, the creature’s back was turned to her. She buried her knife into the pale green skin on its back. It cried out in rage and pain and whipped around, throwing her off to one side. Alaji struck the loose stone hill and skidded down to the bottom. The creature turned toward her, baring its teeth.
With a twist, Alaji arced her hand upward, trailing fire behind. Once again, the creatures shielded their eyes and leapt back with a cry.
Phaesha gave a shout and charged down the hill, kicking her legs forwards as broken slabs of rock slid under her. One of the creatures turned to meet her. It swung a clawed hand at her head, but she ducked beneath the attack and sliced into its side with her sword. The monster screeched in pain but gave no ground. Instead, it grabbed for her. Narrowly, she avoided its reach and stabbed into its elbow, catching it in the joint.
The creature growled, then lifted its arm, throwing her backward. It lunged after her, but was turned back by flame.
“They’re afraid of fire!” Alaji cried out, a moment after hurling the flame that pushed back the creature.
“Not fire!” Yemerik yelled, running towards the two women. “Light! They’re trolls! Afraid of light!” He almost reached them when a hand caught his ankle and pulled him off his feet.
Here's a short passage to hold you over until then:
*
Eventually, the path came to the remains of a stone bridge, which reached only a third of the way across a chasm several hundred feet wide. Alaji approached to examine the stonework.
"Careful,” Yemerik said. “I’m not sure that’s sturdy.”
“I won’t go far,” Alaji promised, taking a few steps onto the structure. Vines hung from the edges, and moss grew everywhere. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“It’s a bridge,” Phaesha said dismissively. “Or it was one.”
“They had ones like this in Hathari, but they were smaller. The stones were less… smooth.” Alaji said, kneeling down to run her fingers over the rocky floor. She rose and returned to the others, who were peering into the ravine. “I’m sorry. It’s still new to me.”
“It’s a good sign. Even in this state, it means the area is important enough to warrant attention. There are likely other roads nearby. We just have to get across. Fortunately, the slope looks gentle enough. We’ll have to be careful, but I think we’ll make it down alright.”
“I can barely see the bottom,” Phaesha replied. “I’d expect you’d want to wait for morning.”
“I didn’t like the look of those tracks,” Yemerik explained. “I’d rather not wait around for whatever made them to find us.”
“You’re assuming it’s not waiting for us down there,” Phaesha said.
“Well, I don’t have a better idea.” He turned to the others in case they did, but he was only met with blank faces. “I’ll go first then.” He lowered himself over the edge and slid down in as controlled a manner as possible, knocking several rocks loose as he did so. “I’m alright!” he called up, once he’d reached the bottom. “The smell is awful, but other than that it looks fine.” He stood up and began brushing the dust from his back. Behind him, he heard the sound of stones shifting. He stepped forward to give Alaji or Phaesha room.
“Yemerik! Look out!” Alaji screamed.
He turned to see something emerging from beneath the ruined bridge, crawling from a hidden cavern cutting into the hill. He could tell it was large – at least twice as tall as he was – but beyond that, it was a dark shape shifting in shadows.
Yemerik started away across the bottom of the ravine. Then, ahead of him, he saw a large rock lift up as something pushed it out of the way from underneath. He turned back. The thing coming from the bridge was joined by another, slightly smaller but still more than eight feet tall. Now that they were in the open, he caught a bit more detail in the moonlight: long slender limbs attached to fat, round bodies.
With a quick incantation, Phaesha hurled a blast of fire at the two by the bridge. They shrieked and covered their faces, though they’d barely been touched by the flames. In that instant, the light revealed green flesh spotted in warts. Alaji stepped into the chasm and began sliding down. One of the creatures heard her and turned.
Alaji jumped as she slid and stepped back in time mid-leap. Once again, the creature’s back was turned to her. She buried her knife into the pale green skin on its back. It cried out in rage and pain and whipped around, throwing her off to one side. Alaji struck the loose stone hill and skidded down to the bottom. The creature turned toward her, baring its teeth.
With a twist, Alaji arced her hand upward, trailing fire behind. Once again, the creatures shielded their eyes and leapt back with a cry.
Phaesha gave a shout and charged down the hill, kicking her legs forwards as broken slabs of rock slid under her. One of the creatures turned to meet her. It swung a clawed hand at her head, but she ducked beneath the attack and sliced into its side with her sword. The monster screeched in pain but gave no ground. Instead, it grabbed for her. Narrowly, she avoided its reach and stabbed into its elbow, catching it in the joint.
The creature growled, then lifted its arm, throwing her backward. It lunged after her, but was turned back by flame.
“They’re afraid of fire!” Alaji cried out, a moment after hurling the flame that pushed back the creature.
“Not fire!” Yemerik yelled, running towards the two women. “Light! They’re trolls! Afraid of light!” He almost reached them when a hand caught his ankle and pulled him off his feet.
Short Holiday Story: The Collector of Old Toys
I'll be posting three (at least I think it'll be three) short holiday stories over at Mainlining Christmas this year. The first is a piece of magical realism called The Collector of Old Toys. Head over and check it out if you're interested.
Fiction: Upgrade
Upgrade
The shop smelled like an old toaster that had been deep-fried in motor oil. Wes Rothold could hardly maneuver the tight packed isles of used circuit boards, gyros, mechanical arms, and fishbowls filled with artificial eyes. Wes wasn’t much, yet: scrawny, pale. Had a tattoo under his left eye, kind of a maroon star. His left hand was a gorgeous Meletech Robotic Mesh that he had owned since he was fourteen. He had put his hand into the kitchen disposal five years earlier: only way to get his parents to buy him a cybernetic one.
Wes was still ninety-percent meat, but it had come time to change that. He had a job now, his own place, his own money. It was time to upgrade.
The shop smelled like an old toaster that had been deep-fried in motor oil. Wes Rothold could hardly maneuver the tight packed isles of used circuit boards, gyros, mechanical arms, and fishbowls filled with artificial eyes. Wes wasn’t much, yet: scrawny, pale. Had a tattoo under his left eye, kind of a maroon star. His left hand was a gorgeous Meletech Robotic Mesh that he had owned since he was fourteen. He had put his hand into the kitchen disposal five years earlier: only way to get his parents to buy him a cybernetic one.
Wes was still ninety-percent meat, but it had come time to change that. He had a job now, his own place, his own money. It was time to upgrade.
Fiction: The Goblin Prince
The Goblin Prince
(From the short story collection Tending the Fire)
There came a day when there were no more rats in Lanheim's cobbled streets. Such a thing did not occur all at once, but slowly over months, as the pests dwindled and disappeared like snow beneath spring rain. It was the apothecary, naturally, who first noticed something amiss, as it was his business that faltered and his fortunes that shriveled. Before long, the missing rodents were the subject of a hundred conversations, whispering through windows and echoing through alleyways. There was much rejoicing in Lanheim, as few things were so despised as the rats. Since the founding of the city, they had been plagued by the rodents, which crept up from the sewers to steal scraps from above and spread disease and filth like weeds in a garden.
(From the short story collection Tending the Fire)
There came a day when there were no more rats in Lanheim's cobbled streets. Such a thing did not occur all at once, but slowly over months, as the pests dwindled and disappeared like snow beneath spring rain. It was the apothecary, naturally, who first noticed something amiss, as it was his business that faltered and his fortunes that shriveled. Before long, the missing rodents were the subject of a hundred conversations, whispering through windows and echoing through alleyways. There was much rejoicing in Lanheim, as few things were so despised as the rats. Since the founding of the city, they had been plagued by the rodents, which crept up from the sewers to steal scraps from above and spread disease and filth like weeds in a garden.
Fiction: The Worst Assassin in Kalbrin
The Worst Assassin in Kalbrin
(From the short story collection Tending the Fire)
In the city of Kalbrin, capital of Helkirith, if you wanted a man killed quickly, effectively, and without fail, you would go to the order of magi, whose arcane powers could handle any job with ruthless efficiency. If, on the other hand, you wanted a man killed after seeing his family slain, one by one, the dark cults of Locintri could accomplish the job – if you were willing to pay their price. If you hated a man so much you wanted his death to take days, even weeks of agonizing torment, the dwarven killer, Yermir, could make any nightmare pale in comparison. Placing enough coins in the palm of Serig Jaraldil, the captain of the guard, could purchase the death of almost anyone in town, as well as ensure that no legal recourse was brought against you.
There had never been a shortage of methods to kill a man in Kalbrin. Yet there was only one assassin you could hire if you wanted that man to survive.
(From the short story collection Tending the Fire)
In the city of Kalbrin, capital of Helkirith, if you wanted a man killed quickly, effectively, and without fail, you would go to the order of magi, whose arcane powers could handle any job with ruthless efficiency. If, on the other hand, you wanted a man killed after seeing his family slain, one by one, the dark cults of Locintri could accomplish the job – if you were willing to pay their price. If you hated a man so much you wanted his death to take days, even weeks of agonizing torment, the dwarven killer, Yermir, could make any nightmare pale in comparison. Placing enough coins in the palm of Serig Jaraldil, the captain of the guard, could purchase the death of almost anyone in town, as well as ensure that no legal recourse was brought against you.
There had never been a shortage of methods to kill a man in Kalbrin. Yet there was only one assassin you could hire if you wanted that man to survive.
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