Tekaran Lady

What is it about long lived characters?

2012-01-03T11:00:00.000-06:00

I've never in my life had cable, so it's only because of Netflix carrying the newer Doctor Who series I've been able to discover the series last month. (Yes, I only got to start with the Ninth Doctor, but I did try to find the older series. No luck.) We're only a few seasons in, but it really is addicting.

There's just something about a character as long lived as The Doctor, Highlander's Methos or Darius or Amanda, any number of vampires, or any centuries old character. All those experiences, the knowledge, the joys, and the pain they've experienced, the things they've seen makes them fascinating. What makes The Doctor doubly so, is the writers show how he continues to grow, learning from his companions as he teaches them.

There are tons of videos out there, but I came across one that seems to sum up character of The Doctor almost perfectly.

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Of course, it probably doesn't help personally that Christopher Eccleston looks like a good deal like Hubby and there are quite a few similarities between the personalities of both the ninth and tenth Doctors and Hubby's. It's like watching what he'd become if he had centuries of life ahead instead of just the few decades any of us can hope to have.

Right of Succession: Chapter 5, Part 1

2011-10-13T14:26:00.000-05:00

New reader? Start at the beginning.

They touched down in the courtyard late in the afternoon. Maya helped Chantal steady herself as she dismounted.

“Thank you, friend,” Maya said, patting his long neck.

“Yes, thank you, Tricon,” Chantal added. She was nervous still. It showed in the uncertain curve of her smile, the way she wrung her hands, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “It was very exciting.” Chantal nodded, nerves adding sharpness to the movement. Her red curls bounced around her shoulders.

“You are both welcome.” Tricon grinned, showing friendliness without exposing the rows of sharp teeth, and Maya was thankful for the consideration. She grew accustomed to Yekaran smiles long ago, but they seemed to unnerve Chantal. Maya understood. All those teeth, sharp as swords and almost as long, bared in such big mouths made it easy to forget their alliance with humans.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he continued. “I have much to attend to this evening.”

“Good evening, then friend.”

Tricon nodded and left them.

“Well,” Maya said, turning her attention to Chantal. “Let’s introduce you to the infants.”

“Infants?”

“The infant Yekarans in the dragonry.” Maya led Chantal toward a plain door grayed with age. “Most of them went home with their parents the day they hatched.”

“What about the rest?”

“Their parents never came out of hibernation.”

Chantal’s expression softened and filled with sympathy. Maya knew the reaction well. There was nothing more effective in turning the hearts of those intimidated by adult Yekarans than the plight of those orphaned by the winter fevers and hibernation failure.

“Is this for my pairing with a Yekaran companion?”

Maya nodded and held the door open, allowing Chantal to enter first. “We’ll see if you can find a companion among the four here. There are others we can call if you don’t find a match today.”

She led Chantal through the narrow hallway. Maya loved visiting the dragonry, but she’d never enjoyed the decent through the Terran entrance. The press of walls so close groups are obliged to walk single file unnerved her.

At the end of the long sloping hall, an old, worn door opened into a massive dome. The hall was an impressive sight just after the mass laying, filled wall to wall with glistening eggs. Today was underwhelming by comparison. The room was empty except for four hatchlings and the maids assigned to tend them until adoptions were finalized.

The size and growth of infant Yekarans never ceased to amaze Maya. First hatched, their heads reached halfway between a human’s knee and hip. These four were a week old, and one was nuzzling his nursemaid’s elbow, trying to hide behind her arm.

“They’re so small.”

Maya turned to Chantal. “Compared to the adults, yes they are, but they’re still plenty big from a child’s perspective, I can assure you.”

“You were four when you met Tricon, weren’t you?”

Maya nodded. “And I’m short now. Imagine how I felt then. He was only two days old and nearly as tall as I was.”

“What do I do?” Chantal asked.

“Go to them, and see if you make a friend.”

“But I’ve never made a friend before.”

“You’ll know if one of them takes to you,” Maya answered.

Chantal hesitated, but after a moment, she set her jaw and walked toward the tiny dragons. Maya felt an ache deep in her chest for the girl. How sad to grow so near womanhood and have never had a friend. She hoped it would happen for her today.

A reddish male peeked out at her from under his nursemaid’s arm and then returned to hiding. A cream fellow and greenish brown female were too busy wrestling to notice Chantal, but a dark green female waddled to meet her halfway. As they reached each other, the Yekaran sniffed at the hem of Chantal’s skirt.

“Hello,” said Chantal.

The Yekaran cocked her head to the side, considering Chantal with gold eyes. She blinked and reared up to sit on her haunches. The dragon trilled and regarded Chantal again, eye to eye, before issuing a questioning squeak.

“I’m Chantal,” she answered. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

The hatchling extended her muzzle. Chantal reached out and caressed the hatchling’s nose before tickling under her chin. Overexcited, the baby wobbled and only managed to keep from falling by flailing too large wings.

Maya walked out to the two of them just as Chantal was asking the nursemaid for the hatchling’s name.

“Her name is Roggsha,” the maid answered.

“Hello, Roggsha,” said Chantal. “Would you like to be my Yekaran companion?”

“That’s a question best left to her parents,” Maya said.

“I thought she was an orphan.”

“Yes, but we find homes for them. These four are just waiting for the adoptions to be finalized. You can ask her parents if they’re willing to allow her to be trained as a companion when they come to take her home.”

“So she won’t live here at the castle?”

“Not until she’s an adult,” Maya answered. “There’s no reason to rob her of her childhood, and you will have plenty of opportunities to visit her.”

The door opened, and a woman with gray beginning to streak through her hair crossed to Maya and Chantal. “There you are!” she said. “Lanre told me I’d probably find you down here.”

“Sorry, Selah,” Maya answered. “We’ve just returned from lunch out at the bluff.”

Selah waved Maya’s apology away. “No matter, dear. I’ve been told to tell you the king is asking for you and to help the young countess get settled in.”

“I see,” Maya answered and turned to Chantal. “This is Selah, Chantal. She practically raised me. If you’ll go with her, she’ll help you get settled. I have some business to attend before dinner.”

Chantal nodded and greeted Selah as Maya turned to leave.

To be continued next week...

Right of Succession: Chapter 4, Part 3

2011-10-05T17:45:00.001-05:00

New reader? Here's a link to the beginning.

Maya was chopping some of the greens for Tricon’s stuffing when she heard Chantal gasp. She glanced up to see the girl’s pale, horror stricken face. Maya looked to Tricon’s favorite hunting spot with some idea of what had Chantal so upset.

Sure enough, there he was, pulling out of a dive at the last possible second. When would he tire of doing that? He’d received two deep gashes along the underside of his tail when he cut it too close once as a youngling, and yet he persisted.
“He’s such a child sometimes,” she commented half to herself as she went back to preparing the greens.

“Tatia packed three large onions, I believe.” Maya waved toward the food. “Could you hand them to me, please?”

Chantal made a little humming sound and shook herself before lifting the basket lid. Maya watched as Chantal tried to find the onions and watch Tricon hunt all at once. She managed it soon enough and finally tore her attention away from Tricon once he began circling.

Maya knew from experience the most dramatic moment of the hunt was imminent, but she didn’t want to draw Chantal’s attention to it. The girl was skittish enough around him, afraid of his size and appearance. She didn’t need to see Tricon make the kill. There was too great a chance it’d reinforce the brute beast stereotype so many who didn’t spend time around Yekarans tended toward.

“Thank you,” Maya said as she accepted the onions. She caught sight of Tricon scooping a shralankce from the water as she started peeling the first one. Maya saw Chantal take one of the others and watch her movements closely before mimicking them. Maya waited until Tricon made the kill before bringing the fact to Chantal’s attention.

“What did he catch?”

Maya watched Tricon fly back toward the cliffs, remembering how strange she found the sight of a dragon carrying its prey the first time she saw it. Shralankce were odd looking creatures with their elongated bodies, disproportioned fins, and triangular heads.

“Yekarans call them shralankce, but our ancestors nicknamed them arrowhead sharks.”

“Will it feed him? It’s huge, but it seems small compared to Tricon.”

“The Yekar, for all their human-like qualities, are reptilian,” Maya explained. “They don’t need to eat as often as we do. A Yekaran of Tricon’s size normally feeds every three to four days unless they’ve been unusually active.”

Chantal peeled while Maya chopped in silence. Maya could tell Chantal was thinking over something. She was frowning with a far away look in her eyes, and Maya could feel the confusion and curiosity coming from her.

“So, have the Yekaran’s been more active lately?”

“No.” It was Maya’s turn to be confused. “Why do you ask?”

“Tricon said they’d eaten sea greens every day this week.”

“Oh.” Maya thought back for a moment. She’d forgotten about that part of the conversation. “When I say feed, I mean something substantial in dragon terms like the meal he’s getting today,” she explained. “Sea greens and other vegetables native to Yekara factor into the Yekaran diet more like supplements than meals. It’s all about the vitamins and minerals. It doesn’t do much in the way of easing hunger for them.”

“Why is it so important?”

“It supports their immune system,” Maya answered and reached for the last onion. “Disease, and disease related deaths, among Yekarans have dropped dramatically since humans started insuring there’s enough to go around when the Yekarans come out of hibernation.”

“So, it’s not because you’re expecting a confrontation with my father?” Chantal asked. Her eyes were downcast, and Maya could feel a confusing swirl of emotion coming from her. Anger, sadness, and disappointment were chief among them, but guilt was in there too.

“No,” Maya answered. “It’s just something routine to help them stay in good health.”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

Maya finished chopping the last onion and mixed it in with the greens. She thought about her next words carefully. Although she could feel the raw emotion rolling off the young girl sitting next to her, she didn’t have to be an empath to tell she was starting to feel guilty for turning her father in.

“It depends on the evidence,” she began as she went to the water’s edge. Maya bent and rinsed her hands before returning to the fire. “If there’s enough, a warrant will be granted. Tembar will be searched. A full investigation will be done, and he may be taken to trial.”

“I know that,” Chantal groused. “I meant if he’s found guilty.”

“I wish I could say, but there are so many ways a trial can go.”

“Fine,” huffed Chantal. “Tell me about these groups then.”

“What do you want to know?”

Chantal’s mouth moved as she started to form her response, but it turned into a squeak as Tricon returned with his cleaned and charred lunch. Maya had waited about serving Chantal and herself for this reason. His landing always kicked up a lot of sand.

“Good hunt, I see,” greeted Maya.

“More like kulling. It was a fracture pod there to aid this wounded one.”

“Ah well, good for you, and good for the pod then.” Maya giggled at the sight of Tricon rolling his large, brown eyes. She motioned toward the stuffing and drying greens. “The rest of your meal is over there.”

Chantal had taken out the bowls while Maya was distracted with Tricon and was ladling out the stew. Maya retrieved the canteen and dug around in the basket to find the spoons.

“How many groups are there?”

“Six,” Maya answered, taking the offered bowl and handing Chantal a spoon.

“Tell me about them.”

“There’s too much to tell in one afternoon. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Give me the shorthand version.”

“Alright then.” Maya paused to think.

“There are Weather Watchers, like me. They can make minor changes in the weather here and there, and they’re responsible for taming the transition storms and taking the edge off the worst blizzards and droughts.”

Maya ate a few bites of her cooling stew. She watched Chantal consider the information. Maya continued at Chantal’s nod.

“Then there are the Water Keepers who have this innate sense of where the water is, and they always know how much is there. They’re in charge of making sure water gets where it needs to go.

“They do a lot of work with the Thermals, who are immune to burns from fire and can control fire and heat to some extent. They keep the wildfires under control and are a tremendous help training young Yekarans.”

Tricon snorted and chuckled, rolling a slice of the charred shralankce around the stuffing. “It certainly helps having trainers who are as fire retardant as their students,” he grumbled. Maya turned her attention back to Chantal before he took the first bite. She loved Tricon as if he was a big, scaly brother, but she hated seeing him eat. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to say anything to Chantal.

The younger woman paled as Maya heard the distinctive sound of a Yekaran’s jaws tearing into meat.

“Then there are the Telepaths,” Maya continued, hoping to distract Chantal from Tricon’s table manners. “They’re one of the most numerous groups. No one’s sure why, but a lot of the scientists believe it’s one of the easiest mutations.” She shrugged.

“Telekinetics can move objects under a certain size short distances with their minds. It’s a quirky mutation and only happens in a handful of the population.

“And finally, there are the Talent Seers. They can look at a person and tell where their skills lie, even if an ability won’t present itself for years.”

“People with such power are everywhere?” Chantal asked. The look of horror was still there, but it was muted. “And, they’re born with it?”

“Yes,” Maya answered. “They are found and trained young. There are strict laws in place to govern the use of such abilities, and all those with them are schooled in the laws and consequences for breaking them.”

“And people with these powers, people like you, are afraid to cross these councils and their laws?”

“The councils adopted harsh penalties for breaching laws and protocol long ago,” Maya answered. “None have crossed them more than once.”

Chantal seemed to consider the information for a moment and then nodded and focused her attention on her bowl of stew. She asked a question now and again, but mostly, she watched the waves roll in and crash against the rocky shore.

From some of the things Chantal said earlier, Maya knew the younger woman’s world view was torn to shreds by the day’s events. She remembered the feeling, and the conflicting emotion she sensed swirling around the girl, which reinforced her suspicions. Chantal was teetering on the edge of an emotional breakdown.

Those first weeks after coming to Rieont, Maya’s world was turned on its ear. She’d wanted to run home and hide so many times. Was it the same for Chantal? Was she tempted to return home, or did the fear of her father make matters worse for her?

If Maya remembered one thing more than the overwhelming desire to escape to the familiar, it was the attempts of virtual strangers to comfort her only made her long for home more. So she held her peace and let Chantal work through her feelings on her own.

Continue to Chapter 5, Part 1.

Right of Succession: Chapter 4, Part 2

2011-09-20T19:05:00.002-05:00

New? Start from the beginning.

Tricon loved hunting from this spot on the cliffs above the picnic alcove. The view was perfect. It was one of the reasons he and Maya preferred this spot to any of the others within reach of the castle.

He scanned the waters, looking for the characteristic dark spot created by a pod of the large, black skinned eel sharks. The waters here were a favored hunting ground near the spring and fall transitions as they migrated. This time of year, they’d be making their way north to the cooler waters they preferred for spawning.

A glinting off to the southwest caught his attention. He focused on the spot and found what looked like a shadow dancing under churning waters. The area was free of crags that far out, so the chances of it being a shralankce pod were high. It looked like a small group feeding on a cloud of the translucent fish the humans nicknamed “bubble fish” for their tendency to inflate when threatened.

Tricon backed several meters from the ledge and took a running start into a gliding takeoff. He thrilled in the feel of the wind rushing over his hide. It was freeing, flying without a rider and saddle. He could make use of maneuvers he didn’t dare with Maya in less than a full battle saddle on his back.

Tricon pulled his wings in, folding them close to his sides, and went into a dive parallel to the cliff face. He plunged headlong toward the rubble left by the crumbled summit and waves crashing against the wall of ragged shards. A rush of primal emotion swept through him, and Tricon reveled in it before unfurling his wings again. They caught the updraft, and the membranes stretched almost painfully tight as Tricon missed impaling himself on the rocks by less than a meter.

He pumped his wings, enjoying the slight burn he was starting to feel from the day’s exertion. Transition had been bad this year, and it was a relief to no longer be grounded by torrential rains.

After a moment, Tricon was at a good altitude again, and he decided to play a bit before he pounced. He folded his left wing against his side and went into a roll. The spin was faster than anticipated, and he stretched the wing to abort. The result was clumsy, and Tricon decided it’d be best to leave the acrobatics until he’d fully recovered his strength after hibernating. He felt a minor strain, and knew he’d been lucky not to seriously injure one of his wing joints with such a wobbly pullout. It wouldn’t do to strand them all.

He’d have to make time to practice in the next few days. Otherwise, he’d embarrass himself during the celebrations surrounding Lanre and Maya’s wedding. Or worse, he’d embarrass himself and then be humiliated when he was too sore to move the next day.

Tricon turned his attention back to his prey. He was close now. The pod still resembled nothing more than a large, undulating shadow under sea foam, but he could tell it was a tiny pod. They were a social species, depending on large numbers coupled with heat and pressure sensing organs to compensate for being nearly blind, so such a small group was odd.

Once he reached the pod, Tricon shifted his weight and went into a lazy figure eight to observe the feeding shralankce. There was little chance of the creatures sensing his presence. Their sight was useless beyond a few meters, and the minuscule pod of five was easy enough to fly over while avoiding their dorsal heat and light sensors.

He regarded the five, looking for the weakest amongst them. They were probably part of a larger group, siblings broken from the main pod to help a sick or wounded brother.

What a pity. This wasn’t so much a hunt as it was a kulling. The shralankce were unsuspecting of threats from above now after centuries of diminished hunting since the humans crashed on Yekara. The challenge the word hunt implied wasn’t there. No, this was more like a service to the species. He’d butcher the injured, so the whole would return to the main pod.

And he was lucky, the weak one appeared injured instead of diseased. It favored its right side, and Tricon glided lower for a better look.

A chunk was missing from the right pectoral fin of a medium-sized male, and long, angry gashes slashed the ebony hide with red outlined in white. It looked like he’d gotten into the crags near the cove, likely due to the last storm judging by the freshness of the wound. Even if it managed to avoid infection, it’d be crippled.

Tricon dove.

Continue to Chapter 4, Part 3.

Right of Succession: Chapter 4, Part 1

2011-09-12T20:14:00.002-05:00

New? You might want to read from the beginning.

Chantal followed Maya through the halls to the kitchens, her stomach grumbling at the thought of food. It seemed like years since she’d had a decent meal. As they reached the ground floor, mouth-watering aromas tickled her nose and caused her stomach to rumble so loud she was surprised it didn’t echo.

Maya pushed the kitchen doors open to reveal the activity and noise of Rieont’s kitchens. Chantal followed, watching the cooks. Maya apologized for interrupting before asking an elderly lady for a basket with enough food for two. The woman nodded and waddled toward the huge ovens on legs almost too thin to support a body grown plump through a lifetime of taste-testing.

“Here,” Maya said as she took a couple Raesh cakes from the cooling racks and handed them to Chantal. “These will tide you over until we get where we’re going.”

“You sure?” Chantal asked. “They don’t look too happy.”

Maya turned her attention to the scowling kitchen hands busily preparing cakes for the ovens. “They can take them from Lanre and my share if they’re so worried about the number,” she answered loudly enough for them to hear. “It wouldn’t do for the king’s granddaughter to faint of hunger.”

The kitchen workers reddened and lowered their attention back to the batter and stuffing, and Chantal nodded before biting into the first cake. It was warm and soft, buttery and spicy, and she had to fight to keep from eating it too fast. They were a favorite of hers, served only on holidays and big events like coronations and weddings, and she’d never had one fresh from the oven before.

The old woman returned, struggling with the weight of the large basket she carried. Maya thanked her as she took the basket and shook her head.

“You’re trying to make me fat before my wedding,” Maya accused.

“Impossible,” the cook responded. “You’re too skinny.”

They chuckled and bid each other good day before Maya led Chantal out of the kitchens. They rounded another corner to find two enormous doors stretching floor to ceiling. Each was engraved with a snarling dragon, carved into the wood with intricate detail. They reared, poised to defend the orb they perched on; their serpentine tails curled around the sphere like a shield. The image was familiar, but Chantal couldn’t remember where she’d seen it before. Had her father mentioned it to her? He grew up in Rieont, so it made sense he would remember the carved doors.

The bubbling base voice of a male dragon began to throb around her as Maya pulled one of the doors open. Chantal saw Maya smile as they stepped out into the humming air. Other powerful voices joined in as the melody spread, and Maya added her soprano to the chorus while they strode across the immense courtyard toward a set of Yekaran apartments.

The complex door and most of the apartment doors inside stood open in the heat. Maya entered with a confidence Chantal found impossible to imitate. She had never been near a dragon, but she remembered seeing her father’s companion from a distance. Could something so powerful, so fearsome, be intelligent and friendly? Still unconvinced but overcome by curiosity, Chantal followed Maya into the gloom and through one of the open doors.

The apartment was little more than one very large, sparsely furnished room. A two-drawer chest stood in the far right corner; a lantern sitting on top provided the only light. An overstuffed mattress lay along the left side of the apartment with a well-grown Yekaran lounging on it as he watched them.

“Mein, mein Tricon. Mah eh gleo us es no.” Maya teased. Chantal’s eyes grew wide. She could not understand the words, but the language sounded familiar. Was this the Yekaran language? “Micht das mention jiu wo lai shuo’ aber scias ay’h veil trioblóid es statuatis mahti venias se undisonus.”

“Paentieo, Maya,” the dragon answered, exposing a row of glistening white teeth. “Venbat eh wenig vebat inithe.” Chantal gulped when his attention turned toward her and was surprised when he began speaking in Terran. “Who is this?” he asked.

“Tricon, this is Chantal,” Maya said as she urged Chantal closer. “She’s Ralic’s daughter. Chantal, this is Tricon, my Yekaran Companion.”

“My greetings to you, Chantal,” Tricon answered with a bow before turning his attention to the basket Maya carried. “I’m guessing you’d like to fly out to the beach for your midday meal?”

“How’d you guess?” Maya answered, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “Chantal is to be paired with a Yekaran Companion,” she explained. “I thought it would be good for her to learn a bit more about your people before making the choice. Besides, I’ve never heard you turn down the chance for a good hunt.”

“God bless you,” he answered with an exaggerated sigh. “Any excuse to get away from Deligh for a while!” Maya giggled. “I’d love a little trip, but I’m covered in dust after helping the planters this morning. Would you mind if I took a moment to clean up?”

Maya nodded her head and moved out of the dragon’s way. Chantal wasn’t far behind and stood watching in awe as the large reptile rose from the mattress. His grace and the fluidity of his movements amazed her. She always thought Yekarans would be awkward, lumbering beasts with no more intelligence than a retesh. She’d been so wrong! Tricon’s presence, size, and appearance were intimidating, but he spoke and behaved almost as if he were human, a very large human.

She could feel the ground tremble as he passed. Maya seemed nonplused by her companion’s bulk and brute strength. Chantal wasn’t convinced of Maya’s sanity after finding her in the Wastelands – alone - and seeking an interview with a certain reclusive count, but she couldn’t believe her grandfather would put her in danger. Besides, humans and dragons worked together all the time, didn’t they?

Maya followed Tricon out of the apartment and motioned for Chantal to come along. She fell into step beside Maya, questions bubbling to the surface as her awe and fear seeped away.

“What were you saying before?” Chantal asked. “I didn’t recognize any of the words you were using. Were you speaking the Yekaran language?”

“I teased Tricon about making so much noise, and he apologized for getting carried away.” Maya answered with an amused smile. “And, yes, we were using Yekaran. It’s something of a tradition of ours to greet each other in the language.”

“How’d you learn it?” Chantal asked. “I’ve never heard more than snippets before.”

“It’s taught like any other subject, especially in the castles,” Maya answered. “But, I learned more from speaking it with Tricon and his family growing up. Weren’t you taught it?”

“No,” Chantal answered, unable to hide her disappointment. “But, Tembar doesn’t have many dealings with Yekarans, perhaps my father didn’t think it was necessary for me to study.”

Chantal started to ask another question, but she forgot what she was going to ask when Maya grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She started to protest, but the warning look on Maya’s face stopped her. The older woman nodded toward Tricon, and still confused, Chantal turned her attention to the dragon. The world seemed to slow for her as she watched.

He stopped at the other end of the courtyard, and as she watched, Tricon spread his wings. Folds of leathery hide spread taught between ribbings like huge fingers to reveal a wingspan of more than six meters. The drake’s massive head turned toward his right shoulder and his chest dipped toward the ground pulling air into his lungs with a nasal whine. Tricon opened his mouth and a plume of fire erupted from it to roll down the full length of his body, overheating the already oppressive air and filling it with the stench of scorched dust.

Chantal lowered the arms she’d instinctively raised to shield her face, blinking her eyes to clear them of tears. A thin layer of fog formed around Tricon’s glowing scales. It became difficult to dismiss the sight as her imagination when she heard the condensation hiss as it came into contact with the fire-treated scales. Tricon stood motionless until the last of the fog burned away, leaving the once dull, ruddy hide an amazing rose tinged gold gleaming in the sun. He pulled his wings back to his sides and proceeded to the wall where several saddles hung, leaving Chantal standing agape.

“What just happened?” she asked.

“Yekaran’s take fire baths,” Maya answered. “It conserves water while cleaning them more efficiently, and they’re largely immune to flames.”

“I meant the mist,” Chantal clarified as she turned toward the noblewoman, trying and failing to keep from glaring. Maya hadn’t answered her question, and Chantal doubted the woman was ignorant of the fact. “Where did it come from?” she asked and winced at the accusing tone seeping into her voice.

“The air around us,” Maya answered. “This close to the Deep, it’s an easy trick for a weather watcher.”

“No!” Chantal whispered, taking a step back from Maya. She thought she’d escaped such beings once leaving Tembar Flats. “You’re the grand lady. You can’t be another monster like Brance!”

“I’m not,” Maya answered, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “I was born this way, as were many other Terrans. The mineral Ralic blames for making Brance the way he is causes some people to be born with abilities. So many in fact there are laws governing how those abilities can be used.”

Maya took a step toward her, and Chantal backed away. It couldn’t be true. She was lying. Everyone always lied to her.

“King Aligh isn’t the highest power in Tekar,” Maya continued. Her tone was pleading. Chantal knew the woman was trying to calm her down; she both welcomed it, longing for the world to make sense again, and resented her for patronizing. “There are councils whose only job is to train individuals to control their ‘talents’ and govern how they’re used. Anyone who dares break the laws the councils set in place are subject to the harsh justice they’re known for dealing out. Not even Aligh could protect me if I used my gift against another person.”

“How harsh?” Chantal asked.

“It depends on the offence,” Maya answered.

“If you tried to hurt me?”

“Best case scenario,” Maya began. “It’d be a very long time before I saw the sun again.”

Chantal calmed somewhat. Maya seemed to relax in response.

“I do so love the sun,” the woman sighed. “I have much to explain to you, and I will once we get to the beach. I didn’t mean to frighten you, and I swear I won’t use my abilities around you again if they make you uncomfortable.” She paused. “Well, unless a storm’s about to blow us all away. I do have some sense of self-preservation, and I’m partially responsible for the safety of those in Rieont.”

“Is that what you use them for?” Chantal asked. “Protecting people from the transition storms?”

Maya nodded. “I can’t stop them, but I can weaken them a bit or cause enough of a shower to keep the crops from frying in a draught. It’s what people with my type of talent are trained to do. It’s the same with the other groups, especially the water keepers and thermals. Otherwise, it’s unlikely we Terrans would have lasted so long on Yekara.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did Ralic keep you from learning anything of our history?” Maya asked.

“My tutors focused on math and science.”

Maya sighed. “We’ll have to fill the gaps in your education later, but in short, yes. We’re not native to Yekara. That’s why utronumite affects us the way it does.”

“I’m ready, Maya,” Tricon called.

Chantal turned to see the dragon waiting. He had strapped a double saddle around his neck, just above where his wings and shoulders met. It was a marvel one of their ancestors had thought of a way to construct strong buckles the dragons could work with their claws.

“Can you trust me enough to come along?” Maya asked.

Chantal nodded. “But, I want some questions answered once we get there.”

“Sure,” Maya agreed and reached for the riding straps as Tricon eased down onto his belly. The stirrup was still nearly at Maya’s waist, but she slid her right foot into the loop and pulled herself into the saddle.

Chantal knew she wasn’t more than a few centimeters shorter than the diminutive woman, but she doubted she’d manage quite so easily. Maya seemed to notice her unease.

“It helps to put a hand to his shoulder for balance,” Maya suggested. “Make sure your foot is secure in the stirrup. Then, use it and the reigns to pull yourself up.”

Chantal nodded and wedged her foot into the stirrup. She found the reigns and hauled herself up, but she overbalanced when she tried to swing her leg over and barely managed to catch herself.

“It’s a bit more difficult than riding a retesh,” said Maya. “It takes everyone a few tries.”

Chantal tried and failed two more times before she found the balance she needed without head butting Maya in the back. Maya congratulated her before proceeding to instruct her in flying safety.

Chantal found the thick leather belts attached to the back of the saddle and secured herself. The riding skirt made it cumbersome, but the feeling of being held in place made her less nervous about flying atop a great beast she’d just met.

“As ready as I’m going to get,” said Chantal. “I think,” she mumbled.

Maya nodded before leaning toward Tricon’s massive head. “Take it easy today, friend. Chantal’s never ridden before.”

Chantal heard him snort and saw his horn tipped frill move as he nodded. Under the saddle, the muscles of Tricon’s long neck flexed. She could feel the movement and hear the plate-like scales scrapping against their sheaths on the saddle’s underside. It was an odd feeling.

A startled squeak escaped her throat, and she clutched the reigns like a lifeline when his weight shifting off his forelegs rocked them backward. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The safety straps held fast without giving in the least, and it was reassuring.

Within seconds, the great shoulder muscles bunched behind the saddle, and Tricon leapt. The air was forced out of Chantal’s lungs causing her to grunt as the force thrust her head a bit more firmly onto her shoulders. Before she could recover from her surprise, Tricon unfurled his wings and began pumping the air.

Five strokes had them above the castle walls, and he kept climbing higher. Chantal found the experience amazing and dizzying all at once, but eventually, dizzying won out. She closed her eyes until she felt their flight level out before peeking out again.

It was as if everything dropped away. Nothing existed except the three of them and the sky with the forest rushing by beneath them and the mountains ahead. It took Chantal a moment to remember to breathe.

Tricon carried them over the forest and three mountains. The third summit had sheered off in places, leaving an intimidating cliff sheltering a stretch of beach beneath. Once they were over the summit, Tricon glided around in a gentle circle.

The Yekaran brought them around to what looked like a makeshift picnic area with a fire pit and three boulders long since polished smooth by the waves arranged like benches and one dragon sized plate. As they neared the ground, Tricon shifted his weight and backwinged into a soft landing that left him ankle deep in the sand.

Chantal undid the straps with a minimum of fumbling once he’d settled down onto his belly. She swung her leg over and misjudged the distance to the ground. Luckily a sandy beach was a much more comfortable place to fall than a paved courtyard, and tumbling onto her rear from the back of a fully-grown male dragon only damaged her pride.

“Are you okay?” Maya asked.

“Nothing’s hurt,” Chantal answered as she scrambled to stand. She busied herself in removing as much sand as she could while Maya climbed down. Then she helped Maya pull the basket from the saddle bag. How had she missed Tricon taking it from Maya as they left the Yekaran apartments?

Chantal followed Maya toward the fire pit and the two oblong stones placed to either side of it. She heard Tricon shift behind them and looked back to see him fumble with the saddle buckles as he grabbed onto one of the slender branches of a scraggily tree with his tail. It pulled away from the tree with a snap, leaving a gaping scar behind. Tricon freed himself of the saddle and stowed it in a cubby hole of a cave.

Chantal giggled at the sight of Tricon using the branch like a backscratcher over the area the saddle occupied a moment before. It never occurred to her they probably weren’t the most comfortable things for a Yekaran to wear. Apparently it itched after a while.

“Help me clear this,” Maya said, and Chantal pulled her attention away from the dragon. She hadn’t noticed from the air, but the fire pit was full of debris washed in with the tides. Maya had knelt to begin clearing it, and Chantal stooped to help.

Several loud snaps sounded behind them. Chantal guessed Tricon decided to use his backscratcher as kindling, and the fact was confirmed when they finished clearing the site. He was waiting for them with one fore claw holding the branch in six pieces. He dropped them into the pit.

Maya pulled a long match from the basket and used it to light the dried leaves she used as kindling. Within minutes, they had a small fire, and Tricon had retrieved an old looking metal spit kit from one of the small caves and washed it in the ocean. Chantal and Maya assembled it, and soon the little kettle packed in the basket was hanging over their growing fire.

“Why don’t you gather yourself some sea greens, Tricon,” Maya suggested.

“I’d rather not,” answered the dragon. “All we’ve had for supper for the past week has been sea greens.” Chantal watched, somehow surprised dragons were capable of whining like human children. “Your choice: fried, baked, or stewed,” he continued in what Chantal could only guess was an impression of someone.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your flame is off color?” Maya scolded. “You’ve been pawning off part of your share on the younger ones again, haven’t you?”

Chantal blinked at the sight of Tricon lowering his eyes as he nodded like a guilty child. Her focus bounced between the dragon and Maya. She was thunderstruck and confused. Was this what the relationship between companions was like?

“If I know you, you’ll want to have a good hunt this afternoon,” Maya continued. “You’re going to need enough of a flame to cook your kill. That will lower your utronumite levels even more. A nice salad will replenish your supply, but I want you to gather enough for me to make a stuffing for you.”

Chantal marveled at the nerve it must take her to scold and lecture such a large, powerful being. Then she saw the look in Maya’s eyes soften. There was a concern there that spoke more of a familial relationship than one of an owner toward their beloved pet.

“If something does happen, I want you to have a strong blue center. It wouldn’t do to set a bad example,” she teased.

“I suppose you’re right,” Tricon agreed. Then, he turned toward the water. He scooped out two large piles of the long, thick plant and placed them on the third polished bolder that reminded Chantal of a dragon sized plate. He gestured toward Maya in a way that seemed like the Yekaran equivalent of a bow. His expressions were difficult to read, but she was almost sure he was being cheeky. She was still trying to puzzle out the scene when he took to the air once again.

“You seem very comfortable around him.”

“Of course I am,” Maya answered. Chantal felt uneasy as Maya considered her with a frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“He’s so big,” Chantal said. “So powerful.”

“Oh, he’d never hurt me,” Maya replied as she stood from where she’d been sitting on the opposite bolder. Chantal watched as Maya walked over to the greens Tricon had left behind. “We’ve been friends since he was two days out of the shell.”

“Oh?” Chantal sighed. “You’re older than he is then? I got the impression it was the other way around.”

“That depends on your point of view,” Maya laughed as she sorted through the greens. “In human terms, he’s twelve, but Yekaran’s mature at a different rate than we do. For them, being twelve-years-old translates to roughly twenty-six.” She stopped to regard Chantal with a smile.

“Will you stir the stew Chantal?” Maya asked. “After that, you may want to watch Tricon. He’ll start his hunt soon.”

Continue to Chapter 4, Part 2.

Dealing with Increasing Migraines

2011-09-07T16:56:00.002-05:00

I don't know how many of you have migraines, but it's near impossible to write through one. Even the painless ones, and yes there is such a thing.

They're almost like having a petit mal seizure but without the zoning out. Sometimes I'll see bright lights or shadows. Others I get vertigo so badly I have to lie down on the floor or crawl to keep from slamming into walls or falling over. The really scary ones completely mess up my ability to manipulate words. It's like how my dyslexia gets ten times worse when I'm sick or tired, only instead of making it just difficult to read or pronounce words, I loose the ability completely for several hours. I can't even bring the letters into focus or remember half my vocabulary.

They used to be rare occurrences. Then about two years ago, I started getting them something chronic. After several months on beta blockers to prevent and control them, I learned certain foods or additives can trigger migraines. It turns out the artificial sweetener I was using in my coffee didn't agree with my system, and switching to natural sugar had me virtually migraine free once again.

However, I've begun having them more frequently again. I kept track of them for several months and soon noticed a pattern. I was having auras and full blown migraines whenever CMEs or solar winds were hitting the earth's magnetosphere. The same is true for Mom and some other migraine sufferers in the family as well. (It's even a trend noticed and prepared for by hospitals, so I know I'm not alone even though it's not something that's been studied so far as I can tell.)

So what's a writer to do?

Other than keeping triggers to a minimum, there isn't much I can do unless I want to go back on a daily medication that causes lots of other issues I find just as troublesome. And I don't. I just now got my system back in order after last year's stint on them.

And on the plus side, slipping on a character and working through troublesome scenes makes for a good escape from the pain when they do come.

Right of Succession: Chapter 3

2011-09-06T14:59:00.003-05:00

New reader? You may want to start at the beginning.

Maya led Chantal to the second level. Sunlight flooded through the enormous windows lining the hallway. The thick glass panes were removed a week before to create a breezeway to relieve the early summer heat.

“I can’t see the Wastelands,” Chantal whispered.

Maya looked back at the girl who had fallen still, silently staring out over Rieont’s southern lands. The emotions she sensed in Chantal were conflicted: joy and sadness, hope and loss, with fear covering it all. Maya remembered feeling much the same way when she first came to Rieont sixteen years earlier. She placed a reassuring hand on Chantal’s shoulder.

“It’s so strange,” said Chantal. “I could always see the Wastelands from my window.” She laughed. “I used to think it the world’s edge as if nothing existed beyond.”

“It’s an easy thing for those who live in castles,” Maya answered, “forgetting a world lies beyond the horizon.”

“I am happy to be here,” Chantal said, looking over at Maya. “Everything’s just so different.”

“I understand,” Maya answered. “Believe me.” She squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Well, the forest is beautiful.”

“That it is,” Maya agreed. “Come now. I want to see your grandfather before his meeting with Elder Conciliate Caprie.”

Chantal nodded, gulping, and followed. A very large man stood guard outside the throne room. He looked straight ahead, and his expression was hard. Any who didn’t know the man behind the scowl would think twice before approaching him, but Maya had known the king’s guard from her childhood.

“Good morning, Raman,” she said as they approached. “Would you tell the king I’m here with a guest he’ll wish to meet?”

His eyes raked over Chantal; assessing her as they did any new visitor to the king. Maya glanced back at the girl, noticing her gaze had fallen to the long sword Raman wore at his side. She turned back to the guard as he bowed before entering the room beyond.

“No need to be nervous,” Maya said. “He’s a good man with a kind heart.”

“King Aligh or the guard?” Chantal asked.

“Both,” Maya answered.

One heavy wooden door swung open, and Raman waved the girls inside.

“The king will see you now, ladies.”

“Thank you, Raman,” Maya said and moved through the door he held open with Chantal following close behind. The room was immense and decorated with tapestries illustrating monumental events in Tekaran history. Across the room, King Aligh sat dwarfed by his throne.

Maya curtsied before the dais. Following Maya’s example, Chantal curtsied as well. It was a clumsy attempt.

Aligh nodded his recognition, a motion noticeable only by the change of light shining off his silvered hair. His appearance grew more unkempt by the day; he refused to have his beard trimmed or his tunics taken in. The tunic’s light material hung from his thinning frame, his skin had grown sallow and dull. However, his dark grayish green eyes remained unchanged, shining out from under heavy brows.

“Your majesty,” Maya began. “I’ve come about a matter of some importance.” The older man straightened and raised his brows. “It seems Count Ralic had a child he neglected to mention. This young woman is his daughter, Chantal.”

“Are you certain, Maya?” Aligh asked. “I seem to remember the boy dieing at the same time as Valera. Am I wrong?”

“No, sire,” she answered. “They both passed…”

“If you please, your majesty,” Chantal broke in and curtsied again. “My mother’s name was Annadel Richards. She and Count Ralic were married in a private ceremony at Tembar Castle.”

The king seemed to notice Chantal for the first time. His brow knit as he scrutinized her, searching for any hint of relationship.

“She does look like Hitrata, doesn’t she?” he asked.

“Yes, she has her eyes,” Maya answered.

“Come here child,” Aligh called with his arms outstretched. She walked forward and kneeled at his feet. He shook his head and reached out to her with trembling hands. “Stand up, darling, and give your old grandfather a hug.”

Chantal stood, beaming, and threw her arms about the elderly man. She clung to him fiercely, tears of relieved joy streaming down her face. Then, as if remembering the king’s age and frail appearance, she loosened her grip and stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

The room’s heavy wooden doors swooshed open and banged into the wall as a tall gentleman rushed through them. He stopped almost immediately, his head snapping around to glare at Maya. She gulped, knowing she’d been caught as she watched him stalk toward her.

“Good day, my lord,” she thought at him as contritely as possible and dropped into an exaggerated curtsey.

“Where have you been?” he snapped through their mental link. Maya’s eyes fell to the floor as she tried to think of how to respond. “The Wastelands! Tembar Castle! You spoke to Ralic!”he shouted in her mind.

“Yes,” Maya thought, a sheepish expression spreading across her features as she realized too late she’d let her shield slip. “Don’t worry, Lanre.”

“Why exactly shouldn’t I worry? Someone attacked my mother, and we don’t know who is guilty. Yet, somehow you think it’s okay to sneak out of the castle without a guard!”

“He won’t do anything.”

“How do you know?”Lanre asked. His silent mouth curled into a mischievous grin. “I’m the telepath after all.”

“Women’s intuition.”Maya nodded toward Chantal and Aligh. Neither seemed to have noticed Lanre’s loud entrance. “Have you noticed what I brought home?”

“The girl?”he asked. “What of her?”

“She’s Ralic’s daughter.”

“But I thought...”

“So did I,”Maya answered, “but something happened when I tried to read her. Something clicked, and I saw images of a younger Ralic as if I was a child sitting on his knee.”

“Her memories?”Lanre asked. His shocked expression matched his mental tone. “How’s that possible. Empaths can’t go that far.”

“I know,”Maya answered, “but it happened. Maybe it’s something like our connection,”she mused. “She could have some level of telepathy. Tembar Flats does have a high utronumite concentration.”

“Perhaps,”Lanre agreed. “Still, I’d feel better if I could see for myself.”

Maya raised her right hand and touched the tips of her fingers to her forehead. She bowed and extended her hand toward Lanre as if giving him her thoughts. She felt the familiar buzzing warmth of Lanre’s mental probe, and she opened her mind to him, closing her eyes to keep from going cross-eyed.

The crushing rush of information was the fastest and easiest way to give Lanre the entire story, but it was disorienting for her to watch the memories flash over her field of vision. Seconds later the buzzing stopped as Lanre retreated. Maya opened her eyes again and began rebuilding her mental walls.

“Borcon?” he asked. There was pain and hope in his expression making it clear he still clung to the belief Kalie was alive and feared he would be proven wrong.

“I’m not sure,”Maya answered. “That image is all I got, and I was afraid to ask before. She’s already half terrified. I wanted to bring her to Rieont, not frighten her away from it.”

“I see. We’ll have to take it easy with her then and not push. But, we can’t wait too long. Not if what she said is true.”

“I’ll speak with her,” Maya answered. “She’s beginning to trust me, and meeting Aligh has made her relax a bit. She came to testify against Ralic. It won’t be long before she opens up.”

“Alright,”he agreed. “I’ll leave her in your hands then. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go meet my long lost cousin.”

“Don’t call her by name,” Maya answered as a thought occurred to her. “Our ability to talk like this isn’t widely known. It may be best to let Aligh introduce you.”

“Oh, thanks for reminding me,”Lanre blushed. “It does disturb people when I respond to things they haven’t said yet, but they all think so loudly.”

“That’s why you have me, dear.”

Lanre smiled, laughing mentally as he agreed, and turned back toward the throne. Maya followed as he walked to the head of the room where Chantal and the king were engrossed in a conversation about her mother and the late Queen Hitrata.

“Good morning, Grandfather,” Lanre said before turning to Chantal. “And to you madam…”

“Chantal Virchow,” Aligh answered for her, “of Tembar.”

“Of Tembar?” Lanre asked making a good show of innocent curiosity. “Isn’t she rather young for Ralic?”

“Don’t be daft,” Aligh chided. “She’s Ralic’s daughter, not his wife.”

“Ah, much more appropriate,” Lanre answered. He bowed and kissed the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” Chantal answered.

“What brings you to Rieont?”

“I’ve come to report unlawful activity in Tembar,” Chantal answered. She looked to Aligh as if to apologize for not saying so before.

“Shouldn’t you report this to your father?” Lanre asked. “It’s his jurisdiction.”

“I-I know,” she said as her gaze fell to the floor. “But, my father’s the criminal to be reported.”

“Ralic?” Aligh asked growing serious and leaning forward. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sire,” answered Chantal. “I saw him with my own eyes and found records of other suspicious activities.” She pulled a collection of folded papers from one of her deep pockets and handed them to the king. Maya breathed a sigh of relief at the sight. She’d forgotten about the papers until Chantal mentioned them and feared they’d been thrown into the fire along with the girl’s peasant disguise.

“Oh my.” Aligh sighed as he read through the documents. “I must ask you to stay here, Chantal,” he continued after a moment, “at least until an investigation has been completed.”

“I hoped you’d say that,” Chantal answered. “Father knows I left, and I suspect he knows why. He’s had his guards hunting for me.”

Aligh nodded and handed the papers over to Lanre. “Take those to Judge Marx, Lanre. Ask him to review them and prepare a hearing. Then, see a vacant set of rooms is prepared for Chantal.”

“Of course,” the prince answered. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Didn’t you have a matter of some urgency to discuss?” Maya asked as Lanre turned to leave.

“It can wait,” he answered with a mischievous grin and hurried out the door.

“That boy has more mood swings than ten pregnant women,” Aligh said shaking his head before returning his attention to Chantal. “Has your Yekaran companion been settled?” he asked.

“I don’t have one,” she answered. “I’ve only seen two Yekarans in my life.”

“How sad,” he commented. “Wonderful creatures, Yekarans.” His eyes brightened as he turned to Maya. “You should take Chantal to meet the orphans while her rooms are being prepared. Perhaps she’ll find a companion after all.”

“Excellent idea,” Maya agreed.

“I wish I’d more time to speak with you, child,” Aligh said as he took Chantal’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “But I am expecting an ambassador from the Yekaran Council.”

“I don’t want to distract you,” Chantal answered.

“Never a chance,” he reassured her. “I look forward to seeing you this evening.”

Maya’s stomach ached, reminding her she’d skipped the morning meal and it was midday. Then, it occurred to her Chantal mentioned she’d run out of supplies the day before. How thoughtless she’d been in her haste! If she was hungry after several hours’ fast, how much more would the girl be after a full day.

“If you please,” Maya interrupted. “Perhaps Chantal and I could take our midday meal along the coast.”

“Yes, of course,” Aligh agreed. “Fair journey to you, and don’t be late for the evening meal. The discovery of my only granddaughter is cause enough for feasting.”

Continue to Chapter 4.

Writing Challenge One

2011-09-05T15:04:00.000-05:00

Today's writing challenge for the Writer's Platform-Building Campaign is to write a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words long beginning with the words "the door swung open." For an extra challenge, we were to keep to exactly 200 words and end with "the door swung shut."

Below is my entry. It's exactly 200 words long and is set in the Yekara universe a week or so before Right of Succession begins.

Ralic's Mistake

The door swung open, the well maintained hinges giving her no warning save its motion. Chantal shoved the papers she’d gathered between the pages of the tome she carried before her father entered. He was deep in conversation with his steward, giving her precious seconds to calm herself.

“Chantal,” Ralic said, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I finished my studies early, Father. I wanted to see if you’d take lunch with me,” she lied. Her heart beat in her chest like a wild thing, and she marveled neither her father nor his steward could hear it. If they knew she’d stolen records from Ralic, her father would turn her over to Eugrin for punishment, daughter or no. What would he do if he knew what she intended to do with them?

“If only I could, precious,” Ralic replied. “Unfortunately the rarity of pleasant days during transition leaves little time for rest when they come.”

“I understand, Father.” Chantal nodded slowly, trying her hardest to appear disappointed and understanding instead of giving away her relief. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

She nodded to Eugrin as she stepped into the hall, only allowing herself a secret smile as the door swung shut.

Third Annual Writer's Platform Campaign

2011-08-31T15:17:00.000-05:00

If you haven't heard about Rach Writes' annual writer's platform building campaign, make sure to head on over and sign up today.

Yes, I'm very naughty and waited to the last moment, but to be fair, I only heard about it a few days ago. And I've been swamped.

No seriously though. Join in and help other writers in your genre build their writer's platforms while increasing your own. Hurry though, the list closes today.

The Fan Fic Debate

2011-08-24T06:30:00.004-05:00

There's been a fair amount of talk about writing fan fiction of late during #writechat. Is it cheating? Can it actually lead to up to a publishing career? Does it actually count as writing? Would it provide a ready audience when you publish your original work?

Long time readers will know I'm pretty pro fan fiction so long as the author doesn't try to make money off of their fan pieces. I write some myself as a way to warm up, practice, and just experiment with voice and new character archetypes.

I read a bit too. Most is mediocre or just down right awful, but there are those few authors, the ones I want to write original novels.

Have you ever read any fan fic? Do you write it? Anyone from the anti fan fic camp out there?

* The poorly Photoshopped illustration over to the side is one I did for a compilation piece titled In Debt Up to Our Crossbows over on Twisting the Hellmouth. Yes I know I can't do photo manipulation. We all suck at something.

Right of Succession: Chapter 2, Part 2

2011-08-22T14:29:00.001-05:00

Are you a new reader? Why not start from the beginning?

The remainder of their journey passed quickly. Chantal exuded a sense of excitement, joy, and curiosity Maya found intoxicating. She knew the feeling of being a bird trapped in a gilded cage, but what must it feel like to see the world for the first time?

As they trudged toward Rieont, Chantal asked question after question. Does King Aligh have a long white beard? Is he grumpy in the morning? How old is Prince Lanre? Would she be welcome at Rieont? Had she ever seen a dragon? Were they nice or as mean as they looked? Was she scared she’d be stepped on? Maya answered each question as best as she could while they hurried toward the relative cool of McLay’s Forest.

Chantal’s questions quieted when they entered the forest. Maya could feel the younger girl’s unease in the dimming light and foreign surroundings. She assured Chantal they were almost to the castle, but quickened her pace nonetheless. The morning was almost spent, and there was much left to do.

Before long, the girls came upon an ancient tree completely devoid of leaves. Maya told Chantal they’d arrived and was rewarded with a confused expression. Grinning, Maya grasped one of the “tree’s” branches, feeling the moss covered metallic surface, and pulled down. Once again, the neglected joints had corroded and refused to budge. Chantal watched her with a pitying air.

“The lever’s stuck,” Maya explained. “Help me.”

Still looking unconvinced, Chantal took hold of the branch and the two pulled together. The hinge finally gave way with a grating groan, pulling moss from the “trunk” and startling a small cloud of tiny insects into flight. The two batted the insects away from their heads as the passage opened. Chantal’s hands stopped mid-swat when she caught sight of the trap door in the path.

“Don’t know if I would have found that,” Chantal said quietly. “The mechanism is much different than the one at Tembar.”

“It’s an older design,” Maya answered, pulling the box of matches from her pocket in preparation. “Tembar was built a couple of decades after Rieont.” She turned and led Chantal into the passage. After a morning in the open, the smell of earth and mold was overwhelming. “Joshua Marx was long dead by then. Tembar’s catacombs were designed by another engineer.”

“Joshua Marx?” Chantal asked. The questioning look on her face became apparent as Maya lit the remains of the torch she’d used only hours before.

“You haven’t been taught much of our history have you?” Maya asked without meaning to and not expecting an answer, but she changed the subject anyway. “We have to close this,” she said indicating a rope pull attached to the trap door.

“Of course,” Chantal answered and reached to grasp the rope. It was outside her reach as she stood on tiptoe.

Before Maya could offer to help, Chantal jumped and caught the rope, and the door started to close by centimeters under her weight.

“Did dust begin to fall before Chantal grabbed hold?” Maya wondered.

Chantal’s feet finally touched the steps, nearly causing her to overbalance when the door’s progress stopped. Maya joined her, knowing it would take the both of them to drag the door the rest of the way since they’d lost the advantage of gravity.

Both girls strained, digging their heels into the step fronts for leverage. By the time the last rays of daylight were extinguished, both girls were dripping in sweat between the day’s heat, their efforts, and the unbearable closeness of the torch. The two stood for a moment, panting to regain their breath.

“We need a bath before we see anyone,” Maya said once she regained control of her breathing.

“I wouldn’t say no to one,” Chantal sighed. “I haven’t seen enough water to dampen a cloth in days.”

“All the more reason,” Maya teased, wrinkling her nose but winking at the same time. “Come on.”

Maya led Chantal through the catacomb’s twists and turns, finding it much easier than the morning’s trip. She grinned to herself. Her mother’s old advice, “Know it backwards and forwards,” came to mind. She’d always hated seeing those words written in her mother’s rough hand following a letter where she’d complained about her studies.

Pushed by their desire for a bath and clean clothing, Maya and Chantal picked their way through the clogged passages. Maya realized she was running on little more than adrenaline and wondered how sore she’d be in the morning.

Maya gave the torch to Chantal as she grasped the lever. She instructed Chantal to stamp out the exhausted torch and leave it behind. When the light was gone, Maya pulled the lever and stepped back as the wall slid open. She waved Chantal through, mouthing to her not to move out of the cell, before she followed. Once she was through, Maya took hold of the mold-covered sister lever and turned it. She dried her hand as the slick passage door closed once again and stuffed the soiled cloth back into her pocket.

She looked back at Chantal, who seemed daunted. Maya wasn’t surprised. She doubted the girl had ever seen Tembar’s dungeons. She laid a comforting hand on the younger girl’s shoulder and nodded for her to follow. Then, she eased to the door and peered around to see who was on guard duty. Jahr’s name was on the rotation list, but that didn’t mean he would be the one sitting by the door. However, she could see the familiar, boyish face darting around inside the guard booth.

He was practicing sword drills. Maya thought he must be daydreaming of future days and more exciting assignments. She didn’t think he would notice them sneaking past the guard station, so she began to creep toward the far door.

They kept as quiet as possible, trying to avoid attention. However, Maya noticed the prisoners’ weary, wild eyes follow them down the corridor. She tried to ignore their gaze and encouraged the natural distrust of what they saw with as powerful of a mind graph as she could produce.

She didn’t hear it at first over the sound of water from the previous day’s rain dripping from the ventilation tunnels, but a murmured cry for mercy rose from the cells. Before she realized what was happening, loud pleas and filthy, reaching hands surrounded them.

“Please, it was all a mistake,” cried one man. “I never stole anything, let alone a child!”

“Angels!” one crazed looking old man cried, falling on his face. “My day of freedom’s come at last!”

Maya glanced around, and saw Jahr stop his sword drills. She grabbed Chantal by the arm and pulled her around the nearest corner. They pressed as close to the wall as they could. Maya held her breath as she watched the adolescent stomp by them.

“Quiet you crazy old fools,” Jahr called. “There are no angels here.”

Maya took advantage of the boy’s turned back and pulled Chantal back to the main passage. They trotted down the last few meters and through the guard station, Jahr’s yells fading behind them.

Maya couldn’t wait to reach the women’s baths. She felt disgusting, and she had no idea how she would explain her condition to anyone they happened to run into. Besides, a little warm water and a scrubbing sponge would help ward off the aches and pains she expected. It was nearing midday, so there was little chance they’d be discovered unless Lanre or Selah had raised an alarm over her absence.

The baths’ door was down the hall, almost at the foot of the southeast stairwell. Maya pushed the door open, walked through, and held it ajar for Chantal. The girl froze just inside, so Maya barely managed to close the door without hitting her.

“It’s enormous,” Chantal whispered, “more than twice the size of Tembar’s.”

Maya looked around the room, trying to see it through Chantal’s eyes. She’d grown accustomed to the castle years ago, but she could still remember the awe she’d felt when she first saw the place. They were standing in the wide dressing area. Several wooden partitions stood more than two meters high in front of them, each surrounding one of the eight large bathing pools.

She could already feel the warmth emanating from them and longed to sink into one of the large pools. However, she knew a visit to the storage and laundry rooms off to the side would be necessary before she could enjoy her soak.

“You won’t need those clothes anymore,” Maya said as she walked toward the stack of wood in the corner. “So we might as well burn them. “We could never get all of the sand out of the material now, anyway.”

“I agree, but I don’t have anything else.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something here in the store room,” Maya answered, taking wood from the stack. “Girls your age tend to tire of clothes or outgrow them well before they’re worn out. I’m sure we have more dresses your size than you could possibly wear.” She kneeled to stack the wood in the fireplace and pulled out her box of matches and the last soiled handkerchief. She struck a match and used the handkerchief for kindling before standing again. “Okay, let’s see what’s there.”

She led Chantal over to the storeroom and opened the door. Chantal gasped as row upon row of dresses, blouses, skirts, underclothes, and shoes arranged by size came into view. Maya walked to one of the racks. There was her old plain brown riding skirt, white blouse, and high leather boots she’d outgrown several years before all placed together. She pulled them from the rack to show to Chantal, but the girl was still standing by the door.

“I’ve never seen so many gowns,” Chantal said.

“Oh, there’re lots of young ladies here,” Maya answered. “Too many sometimes, I think,” she continued under her breath before holding up the outfit again. “What do you think?”

“What is it?” she asked, pointing to the skirt.

“It’s a riding skirt,” Maya explained. “They’re cut like loose-legged breeches to allow a lady to ride without sitting sidesaddle, but lots of women use them for long treks or outdoor work. The material’s thick, warm, and takes years to wear out.”

“That’ll work,” Chantal said and took the clothes from Maya.

The girl stepped behind one of the partitions to get started while Maya went to the rack just outside the laundry room. As she expected, the dresses she’d sent to be washed a couple of days before had been cleaned, dried, and were hanging there waiting to be picked up. She chose one and hung it over one of the partitions. Then, she returned to the dressing area. She unpinned her hair and laid the pins and her circlet beside her box of matches on one of the tables and retrieved two towels from the closet. Maya hung one over Chantal’s partition and pulled down the discarded disguise at the same time.

“Oh my,” Chantal said, “this is much better than what we had back home. The water was always freezing, even in summer.”

“Natural hot springs surface here,” Maya explained just before she tossed the sand-infused clothes into the fireplace, “so the water’s always warm. Don’t worry; you’ll get used to the smell.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Chantal returned.

“The smell of sulfur’s a small price to pay for hot, running water in the dead of winter.”

“You’ll get no arguments from me,” Chantal said amidst the loud pops of rapidly heated sand coming from the fireplace.

“Hurry now,” Maya said as she stepped behind the partition surrounding the pool she’d chosen. “There’s much to do before day’s end.”

“I am, but it may take a while,” Chantal answered. “I think sand’s found its way into my pores.”

“Well, make sure you get clean,” Maya chuckled as she slid into the pool. “I’ll have to wash out my dress before we leave anyway.” She dove under the water and dampened her hair. Then, she took the scented soap from the shelf and scrubbed herself until her skin tingled. She let the slight current sweep the grime away and reached for a shampoo bottle. Maya lathered her hair well and dove again to rinse it clean before climbing out of the pool.

She dried herself quickly and dressed. Then, she retrieved her dress and cloak, taking them to the pool’s edge instead of the laundry rooms. She knew the laundry maids would be at the washtubs, and she didn’t want to attract attention.

Even if Lanre did know she left, she wouldn’t do anything to create a scandal. It was bad enough many thought the prince too young for rule, she wouldn’t have them thinking he couldn’t control his household. She washed out the dress and cloak before hanging them over one of the drying racks in the outer laundry room.

Maya returned to the dressing area, expecting to find Chantal waiting, but the room was empty. She sighed, loath to loose any more time, but decided to give Chantal a little longer. A warm bath was a luxury enjoyed by few, and the girl had gone without bathing at all for days. So, she found a bottle of the hair softening salve kept in the cabinets and worked a small dollop into her curls. She picked up a polished wood comb and began to work the tangles out of her hair before pinning it up around her circlet.

“I feel like a new woman,” Chantal sighed as she appeared from behind the partition. “Now, if only I could work with my hair the way you do with yours.”

“You can’t do your hair up?” Maya asked, putting the last pins in her hair.

“It just gets bigger and bigger the more I try,” she answered with a helpless shrug.

“I’ll have to teach you,” Maya said and motioned for Chantal to sit on one of the benches. “The lessons will have to wait though, I’m afraid. Right now we need to hurry, so I’ll just pull it up for you.” Chantal sat down and held very still while Maya pulled the mass of ringlets into a basic knot and secured it. Then, she walked around and looked at the younger girl. The change was amazing.

“Now,” Maya said with a smile. “You look the part. It’s time to meet your grandfather.”

Continue to Chapter 3.

Right of Succession: Chapter 2, Part 1

2011-08-15T06:42:00.002-05:00

New reader? Start at the beginning.

Ralic led Maya back into the courtyard and past the steward, who had ignored the still dripping gash above his eye. The young man regarded the two with an unreadable expression. Maya turned away, unable to look at him. His lack of concern about the long line of drying blood was only slightly less disconcerting than his total lack of emotion. Meeting the steward shook her faith in herself. She was convinced the boy felt something, but her empathy was too weak to read it.

“Are you certain you will be safe traveling alone?” Ralic asked as they neared the northern gate. “Certainly my father didn’t send you all this way without at least one guard or your Yekaran companion.”

"Given the possibility of an attack against the line of succession, we thought it safer to travel in the guise of insignificance,” Maya answered; pleased her hours in the castle library were proving useful. Ralic’s brow wrinkled, and Maya answered the obvious question before it was asked. “King Louis XVI of Earth’s France thought to outwit his enemies by fleeing in such a disguise, but in carrying a guard, he gave himself away.”

“Then why risk wearing your circlet?” Ralic asked. “Everyone in Tekar can recognize that particular trinket.”

“How else would you have known me?” Maya answered. “Believe me, if I didn’t have to hide it, I wouldn’t be wearing this cloak in such heat.”

“It does seem out of place.”

“Yes, I know,” Maya conceded, “but I’ve seen those afflicted with ailments of the skin or eyes wear heaver cloaks than this on the hottest days of the year. Most people would look away, thinking me a low-ranking noble’s daughter too ashamed of her condition to show her face.”

Ralic roared with laughter, causing Maya to jump. She never expected the feared count of Tembar to find anything amusing, let alone such an image. The sound seemed unnatural, but his laughter was genuine. However, she couldn’t quite tell if he was laughing at her words or some private joke.

“Well put, my lady,” he said. “Yes, Father made a good choice with you indeed. You’ll make an excellent queen.” He touched his forehead lightly with his right hand, bowing to her in the Tekaran custom. “Health and happiness be with you, Lady Maya.”

“And to you,” Maya answered, pulling her hood up once again. She turned and walked through the open gate and out into Tembar’s open lands.

Before long, the firm ground of Tembar gave way to the Wastelands’ sands. Maya barely noticed the change as she hurried along, lost in thought. She had defied Aligh and Lanre today, and for what? What real proof did she have other than her word? Tembar offered little other than more questions.

She’d been such a fool! What would she tell the king? What could she tell Lanre? Even if no one else missed her, he would have. She’d have to tell him the truth of what she’d done. It was impossible to hide anything from him anyway. He’d be furious with her for leaving unprotected, but it was far too late to change what she’d done. Maya hoped he hadn’t already raised the alarm. Oh, how she wished she’d never left her quiet little village. Life would be so much simpler.

A peasant girl came into view as Maya topped the dune. She appeared very young, just coming into womanhood. Her clothes were in tatters, her face was dirty and caked with sand, and her long red curls were a tangled mess. It looked as if she’d wandered in the Wastelands for weeks, but she seemed strong and healthy nonetheless as she stood before Maya with her feet planted to the ankles in sand. Maya could see anger in the child’s face as plainly as she could feel it burning in her.

“Traitor!” the girl screamed and charged at Maya.

Startled, Maya stepped back and tumbled down the dune she’d just climbed. The sand cushioned her fall, but the impact still jarred her already sore back. Her world spun as she rolled and bounced to lower ground.

She groaned as she looked back up the steep dune, expecting the girl to come crashing down on her head. However, the girl stood halfway down, staring at Maya with her mouth hanging open. It was then Maya noticed the fall pulled her hood back and nearly ripped the cloak off completely. The girl must have seen the circlet.

Maya got to her feet and began to shake her clothes free of sand. She kept a mental eye on the girl’s movements as she tried to remove the sand from her skirts. Maya could feel the girl trying to reach her without falling too, though now her actions seemed motivated by embarrassment and fear rather than anger. Maya didn’t feel she would pose a threat again, so she ignored her until she decided to speak.

“I beg your pardon, my lady,” the girl began. “I saw you coming to and from Rieont and Tembar and assumed you were a spy.”

Maya looked up in disbelief. “How do you know I’m not?” she asked.

“You are the Grand Lady,” the girl answered. “The king would never choose a woman who was capable of evil to be our next queen.”

“Your faith in Aligh is flattering, child,” Maya said, “but no man can see the future. Besides, how do you know I didn’t just steal the grand lady’s circlet?” Maya could feel the girl grow irritated and even more embarrassed as she watched her blush. She raised her hands in a reassuring gesture before the girl charged again. “You supposed correctly this time,” she answered, “but you could have just as easily been wrong.”

“Good,” the teen answered. “I didn’t exactly look forward to dragging you all the way to Rieont. It’s too hot, and I’m too hungry.”

“How long have you been out here?” Maya asked.

“Three days,” the girl answered, “but I only ran out of supplies yesterday.”

“I should say you’d be hungry then,” Maya exclaimed. “Why are you wandering around out here? Surely you know there’s a village not ten kilometers away.”

“Oh, I know,” the girl answered. “I was born in Tembar Castle, and I’ve no intention of returning to it while Count Ralic’s in charge of the place.”

“Well, if you won’t go back there, you might as well come with me,” Maya answered and began to follow her footprints back up the dune. She’d caught something buried in the girl’s meaning but was unable to obtain a clear reading, so she decided to push the subject a bit further. “He’s not exactly the picture of humanity at its best,” she agreed, “but still, it’s shelter in a treacherous world.”

“Yes, but a prison is shelter as well and a more honest one than Tembar,” the girl panted as she struggled to keep up with Maya’s longer stride.

“Are you calling Tembar a prison?” Maya asked, amused and disconcerted at the same time.

“Tembar Flats is one great lie,” the girl answered. “Nothing here is what it seems. Ralic’s been lying to everyone for years. I don’t think he even remembers how to tell the truth!”

“And how would you know all this?” Maya asked.

“I told you,” the girl snapped, “I was born and raised in Tembar Castle.”

“No, you told me you were born in Tembar,” Maya corrected her. “You said nothing of where you were raised, and that doesn’t answer my question. Did you see proof Ralic was lying?”

“Yes,” the girl answered with an impatient huff. “I did follow you until one of Ralic’s monsters took you into the castle. I know he wasn’t born that way, and he wasn’t the result of some stupid accident like Ralic tells everyone. Ralic made him that way, and Brance isn’t the only one!”

Maya stopped, her heart and thoughts racing. “He made Brance into that creature?” she asked. “How do you know?”

“Brance is years older than me,” the girl conceded, “but I saw Ralic doing something to other babies. They were changing into something as much animal as human. Tembar’s crawling with others like them, but they usually stay in the catacombs unless Ralic wants them to do something.”

“This has to be reported immediately,” Maya answered resuming her trek toward Rieont Castle with renewed speed. So, it was true; Ralic was reveling in the forbidden sciences!

“I know that!” the girl exclaimed in righteous adolescent irritation. “I ran away to tell King Aligh, but I got lost. Ralic sent others like Brance to bring me back once he noticed I’d left. I got turned around running away from them.”

“Did he know you’d seen him?” Maya asked.

“No,” the girl answered. “I don’t think so.”

“Important girl then, to be missed so quickly.”

“I’m his daughter.” The girl sighed, looking down at her feet, “and I did manage to snatch a good chunk of his records before I left.” She reached into a pouch tied at her waist and pulled out the thick corner of several pages folded together as proof of her words.

“His daughter?” Maya asked, gently pushing at the edges of the girl’s mind. She found a flood of images: a younger Ralic looking down at her, the count holding out a brightly wrapped package, and countless others. Just before the connection broke off, Maya thought she saw a large, dark-colored Yekaran being chained in the castle courtyard. Realizing just how long she’d paused, Maya shook her head free of the images and smiled weakly. “We weren’t aware Ralic had any children.”

“He wouldn’t mention me,” the girl answered. “My mother didn’t exactly want to marry him, and he was rather disappointed I was the only child she managed to produce for him before her death. He wanted a son and got stuck with me.”

“Well then,” Maya said, “all the more reason for you to come back to Rieont with me.” She continued on, pushing as fast as she could toward the comfort of Rieont when she realized she’d yet to learn the girl’s name.

“Forgive me,” she said, feeling her face grow warm with embarrassment. “We’ve yet to be properly introduced. My name is Maya Dubose of the Valley of Dreams,” she continued and offered the girl her hand.

“Chantal Virchow of Tembar Flats.”

Continue to Chapter 2, Part 2.

Right of Succession: Chapter 1, Part 2

2011-08-08T07:32:00.004-05:00

New reader? Start from the beginning.

After hours traveling an area devoid of anything but fine red sand, Maya was relieved to see Tembar Castle. The days were growing longer with the start of summer, and with any luck, she would return before midday. The temperature was rising quickly, and she was tired and hungry, having skipped her morning meal and left without supplies in the interest of speed.

The castle was smaller than Rieont, yet it dwarfed all in its shadow. The stones had darkened over time giving it an appearance as foreboding and mysterious as its master.

To the east of the castle, a village of fragile looking huts stood by an orchard in full bloom. Maya watched young men mending the weathered roofs and figures bending in the fields. Green and ripening in the sun, the fields spread out from the fortress a stark contrast against the castle walls. The life and activity in the village seemed out of place.

Maya entered the circle of green, startled by the change of textures as she stepped onto firm ground. She sighed, relieved to not sink with every step. What she wouldn’t give to sit down for a moment or to have a glass of cold water after trudging through sand.

A sound caught her attention. It was faint at first, gradually growing louder into a deep bass rumbling. Maya stopped, trying to place the sound as the pitch climbed into a piercing whine that shook the walls before surpassing the human hearing range. It seemed so familiar, almost mundane, yet she couldn’t think of what it could be. She heard men trying to silence whatever was causing it as the ancient stones began to crumble.

Her heart felt like ice as something caught her arm. The traders told stories about hearing the calls of strange animals and huge passing shadows in the dark, but none described anything like the enormous half-man, half-spider monstrosity glaring down at her with its six beady eyes.

Maya fought to retain her composure. Her thoughts were swirling as fast as her heart pounded, and she could barely keep her chest from heaving. How could something like this exist? She tried to read the creature’s emotions to gauge whether it was one of Ralic’s servants or a wild animal. The reading was muted, and the attempt caused a nagging ache behind her eyes. The creature was too inhuman for her abilities to work.

“I have a message for your master,” she said as she noticed the guard’s uniform it wore. She tried to sound commanding, but it came out as more of a timid squeak than an order.

“Speak,” barked the arachnid.

“Take me to him, and I’ll be more than happy to speak,” Maya snapped.

Now that she knew she wasn’t breakfast, Maya felt sorry for the beast. It seemed to have difficulty processing her request and lumbered toward the castle’s northern gate for help.

It led her into the courtyard and walked straight to a steward. Maya heard the whine again. It returned to a low rumble seeming to come from the Yekaran apartments, but the sound was reverberating off of a thousand surfaces. It could be originating from anywhere on the grounds. Besides Ralic’s dragon died long ago. Tembar hadn’t been home to a Yekaran for years.

Maya rebuked herself for letting her attention wander. How would she accomplish anything if she couldn’t control her own mind? She scanned the area for the arachnid since she’d lost track of his movements while she was distracted. She found the grayish, fur-covered mass of the beast’s head bent over something about ten meters to her left, so she eased closer, trying to remain unnoticed.

The spider creature was speaking to the steward. He was a small man, barely out of adolescence, yet he seemed unperturbed by the creature waving gruesome mandibles so close to his face.

While the two spoke, Maya looked about the courtyard. She saw no other creatures, but she felt this was a normal sight for the citizens of Tembar. Those about seemed healthy enough though weather-hardened and distrustful. Perhaps the creature was born in or near the castle. Surely it was a fluke of nature. There couldn’t be others. Could there?

The creature left and stalked back toward the gate, so she looked to the man. He regarded her with an expression of distaste and boredom. Maya felt uneasy, sensing nothing from him. She pushed and found no emotion. She’d heard of people with a limited capacity for emotion, and she felt another knot form in her stomach as she remembered how those cases ended.

The young man bowed and turned on his heels. He set off toward the main doors at an astonishing pace, making it difficult for Maya to follow. The youth pushed both doors open and charged through, apparently not caring whether they slammed back in her face or not. She managed to rush through and winced at the clamor they produced as they closed.

The steward led Maya up a stairwell not far from the doors and out onto the second floor. They both continued down the corridor. The steward stopped between a huge gap in the support columns and two enormous doors. Maya knew they were outside Ralic’s council room. Each castle had such a room on the second floor for the master to hold council with his human vassals. However, it was built so they could meet face to face with a Yekaran resident or ambassador when needed, speaking through the enlarged breezeway opening and doors.

“Please wait here for a moment, my lady,” the steward said. He pulled one door open, disappeared through it without waiting for an answer, and took care to close it behind. Maya listened, trying to block out the clanging of a blacksmith’s hammer and the neighing of a spooked retesh rising from the courtyard. She heard an exasperated tenor voice followed by the sound of breaking glass. A girl Maya hadn’t noticed before flinched at the sound before trying to disappear into the wall as she swept.

The steward returned. A ragged gash now marred the skin above his right eye. His expression and voice were indifferent as he told her the count would see her before releasing the heavy door and stomping back down the hall toward the stairwell. She walked through the opening and heard the girl yelp and the steward bark an indistinguishable order before the door closed with a bang.

The room was furnished more as a study than Maya expected. The windows were covered by thick curtains of a dark color she couldn’t make out in the dim light of half-spent candles. A glittering at her feet caught her attention. It was the remains of a glass bottle below the dripping fringe of a wine-stained tapestry.

Count Ralic sat behind a large desk piled high with scattered papers, ancient books, and scrolls, pouring over a report. The man matched the castle. He was a pale man with ebony hair and surprisingly well built. She’d always assumed Ralic would be as lanky and frail as his brother, Brannon, had been.

Maya stifled a cough in the smoky room, forcing her shoulders back as she tried to hide her unease and make a show of confidence. The count looked up from the papers and rose from his seat.

“Who have we here?” he asked.

“Greetings, Count Ralic,” Maya answered, pushing her hood back to reveal her face. His eyes grew wide as he recognized the gold circlet pinned into her hair.

“Grand Lady Maya!” he exclaimed in surprise and motioned her toward a chair across from his desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked as he returned to his seat.

“I’ve come to bring a message from your father,” she answered. “It’s strange I’ve never met you before during the sixteen years I’ve lived at Rieont,” she added as she sat.

“I’ve always kept to myself,” he said with a shrug.

Maya cleared her throat. “If you’ll pardon my asking,” she began. “What happened to the creature outside?”

“Creature?” Ralic asked, looking stunned, though Maya could sense no surprise. She wondered if the steward had told him of her encounter. “Oh, you must mean Brance. No one really knows. You know the effects of utronumite on Terran systems, do you not?”

“I should say!” she answered. “After all, I’m to marry your nephew before the week is out.”

“Yes, I seem to remember hearing about Lanre having a rather strong talent,” Ralic said more to himself than to Maya. “Telepathy isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Poor thing,” Ralic answered. “He must take after his father. My brother always was the sickly type, and I’ve never seen a healthy looking telepath. They’re all skin and bones and sleep-sunken eyes.”

“Actually, most say he’s the image of Aligh as a young man, though he has his mother’s coloration,” Maya answered. “He’s trained all his life to cope with the emotional barrages of castle life, and he manages well.”

“I can see Aligh has made a good match with you,” Ralic answered. “You speak with more than respect for my nephew.” He cleared his throat.

“You asked about Brance.” Ralic leaned back in his chair, idly scratching at the stubble on his jawline. “He wasn’t born the way he is today. The midwife or his father would have probably killed him if he had been. No, most think he found a spider somewhere under the castle and ate it.”

Maya felt her eyebrows raise at the explanation and immediately smoothed her features. It was a wasted effort, however. Ralic had already noticed and made a dismissive gesture.

“He was one of those children who’d put anything in their mouths. The springs that irrigate Tembar Flats have some of the highest concentrations of utronumite in all Tekar. It still doesn’t seem possible, but his DNA was fused with a spider’s just before his fourth birthday.”

“A transformation in a fully developed boy!” Maya exclaimed in utter shock. “Why wasn’t it reported? I-it’s unheard of!”

“And have the boy live the rest of his life in a laboratory?” Ralic answered, raising his eyebrows in a show of concern Maya couldn’t sense. “In any case, I’ve been researching the cause and any possible means of reversing the effects.”

“I seem to remember hearing stories about your abilities in the sciences,” Maya answered. “I wasn’t aware you were still experimenting.”

Ralic shifted, unease radiated from him as he cleared his throat. “Nothing like I used to,” he answered. “I mostly played with equations in the evenings to keep my skills sharp until this with Brance happened.”

“You’ve not returned to former studies in your quest for a cure?” Maya asked.

“Even if I wanted to, there are no books on the subject in our library,” Ralic answered. “I’ve been working with what I can remember, but I must confess I don’t remember much.”

“Still, something like this should have been reported,” Maya continued. “What if it happens again because people aren’t warned?”

“What good is warning people going to do?” Ralic asked. “Has warning a child not to put things in their mouth ever stopped them from doing so? Besides, the necessary utronumite concentrations only exist here and in the Water Watcher’s Council Hall. Water Watcher’s aren’t trained until they are ten at the earliest and our catacombs have been closed off.” Maya started to protest, but Ralic raised his hand to forestall anything she had to say. “To our understanding, there is no longer any danger of another incident such as the one which transformed the boy.”

Maya knew Ralic was lying about something, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Had he pushed into the forbidden sciences again, or was he simply hiding information? As much as she wanted to know, she didn’t push further. It wouldn’t serve her purpose for Ralic to discover her, and she knew he wasn’t a fool. She decided to fake belief and concentrate her efforts on the information she originally came to obtain.

“I shall give the king your assurances when I report the incident,” she said. “I’m sure he will allow Brance to remain in your care, especially given your scientific background. Though, he may wish to send a few scientists to aid you.”

“Any aid would be welcome,” Ralic answered. “You said you had a message from my father?”

“Yes,” Maya answered. “You’re father believes Princess Kalie wasn’t the real target of the attack those months ago.”

“Who then?” Ralic asked.

“Prince Lanre, King Aligh,” Maya paused, trying to push deeper into his emotions, “you. He believes someone wants to overthrow the Virchow line.”

“Why?” Ralic asked, radiating more unease than the controlled fear or concern Maya expected. “The house of Virchow has reigned since the crash with only the odd bid for power from time to time.”

“That’s likely the case again,” Maya said. “It’s probably some dissatisfied regent or other. Still, these things can become bloody if left unchecked.” Maya paused, trying to feed Ralic a feeling of unconcerned trust. “The attack happened on your land. Have you heard anything that could help us in the investigation?”

“I wish I could help, my lady,” Ralic said, leaning forward. “I really do, but I’m afraid I know nothing of the attack.”

The rush of emotion from the count was overwhelming and sent Maya’s head spinning. She gulped. Had she pushed too hard? Did he notice the emotion graft? There was no report of Ralic having telepathic abilities, and she prayed he hadn’t somehow developed them as she feigned belief.

Maya could sense something not quite right. She knew he was hiding something, but there was no way to discover what it was without giving herself away. For the first time in her life, Maya wished she’d been born with telepathic abilities.

A chill overtook her as realization struck. She’d picked up on Lanre’s desire to speak with Ralic! He could push beyond the spoken; she couldn’t. Maya berated herself for her foolishness. She’d been trained to resist such influences, and she didn’t recognize this one until it was too late.

“How can you be sure anyone attacked her?” Ralic asked, startling Maya out of her private reverie. “Yekarans have been known to lash out at their closest friends in the throws of madness when it comes upon them suddenly.”

“Borcon? Mad?” Maya asked, shocked by the accusation. “He was always in perfect health.”

“I meant no insult,” Ralic said. “As with humans, Yekarans can be driven to madness by a traumatic event. They could’ve as easily been overtaken by a blizzard, and something happened to Kalie. I know the bond between dragon and companion. Loosing such a friend is enough to break anyone.”

“Surely we would have found something.”

“Was there nothing left?”

“Unfortunately not,” Maya answered. “It was snowing, and the Yekarans were sluggish. By the time they arrived, nothing was found but fresh powder.”

“I’m afraid you may never know the truth, then,” Ralic answered. “Forensics depends upon clues left behind.”

A sense of smug pleasure caught Maya’s attention. Her heart fluttered, knowing only one reason Ralic would be happy they could never find the truth.

“Thank you for your time, my count,” she said. “Your father sends his reassurances Kalie’s attackers will be caught.” She looked down at her hands, blushing with disgust at what she was about to say. Yet, she realized the necessity of the message. “However, there can be no guarantees of anyone’s safety in the best of times. Therefore, I’ve been sent to inform you Aligh officially named you as his secondary successor several weeks ago. He would have sent word sooner, but the weather wouldn’t cooperate.”

“I wish no offense to you, my lady,” Ralic said. “But, I hope the day never comes. You deserve better than to be saddled with a man old enough to be your father.”

Maya fought the urge to recoil as Ralic met her eyes. His manner revolted her despite his handsome face. How could he be the son of Aligh Virchow? Only his thick head of dark hair and light green eyes spoke of the kinship.

Maya noticed a strange feel to his manner as he rose from his seat. The feeling was utterly foreign to her.

“I regret I will not be able to attend your wedding due to failing health,” he said. “I’m afraid my lungs simply cannot take the rough summer winds. Do tell Lanre I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” He offered her his hand. She took it, and he kissed her knuckles. Her stomach lurched at his touch.

“I must wish you farewell,” he said. “I’ve several projects to oversee.”

“Farewell, Count Ralic,” Maya managed as they rose.

“May I show you out?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“Thank you,” Maya said as she accepted, praying she could maintain an unconcerned facade until she was safely away from Tembar.

Continue on to chapter 2, part 1.

Support your favorite author. Become a book ninja!

2011-08-03T05:00:00.001-05:00

Tuesday, Carrie Harris wrote about a phenomenon I didn't even realize was out there. We've all heard about pirated movies and music, but books are feeling it now too.

Make sure to head over to Saundra Mitchell's blog and read what she has to say about her personal experiences with book pirating.

Okay, I know I'm posting Right of Succession for free right now, but I have my own reasons for doing so. I'm still getting something out of the deal. It was my decision to do so, so it's all good. Not every author wants to take the route I decided on, and even then, should the same happen to my stuff, it would hurt like heck.

It takes years. Yes, years folks, to get a book from idea to the bookshelf, especially first books. Those downloads don't count toward the author's sales numbers. They don't see a penny for them. Worse, each successive lowers the chance the author will be able to sell their next book because it cuts into the number of sold copies, which is the only number their employers, the publishing companies look at. I mean, why should they care how many times it's downloaded? Do they see anything from the downloads? So, the pirates are gleefully hacking off their peg legs without realizing it.

Imagine pouring your heart and soul into something for a year or five, then to wake up one morning to find people happily stealing from you and stomping all over your career while smiling and waving, all while there's very little you can do to stop them. Kinda makes you sick to your stomach, doesn't it?

What can you do?

First, don't join in. Ms. Mitchell gives directions on how to get your hands on a book in ways which aren't detrimental to your favorite author even if the book isn't currently available in your area, or you can't afford to buy it.

Second, spread the word. Like Ms. Mitchell says, "Free" books aren't free. You're getting it at the expense of the author whose work you want to read and making it less likely you'll ever see anything else of theirs available.

Right of Successon: Chapter 1, Part 1

2011-08-01T07:00:00.005-05:00

Maya glanced outside as she dressed by the light of the twin moons. She’d overslept, and it was nearly dawn. Soon the staff would begin their shifts, and she’d have no chance of slipping away unnoticed.

She grabbed her cloak as she left. The soft clicks of her heels seemed deafening, and the dancing shadows cast by the wall torches felt ominous as if ghostly fingers reached for her skirts, trying to stop her as she fought the urge to run to make up time.

Maya chided herself for imagining such things. She wasn’t playing a game to relieve the tedium of lessons and household responsibilities. Not this time. She had to be free of guards and Rieont Castle before dawn, or she never would be.

Few ventured below the ground level after dark, so no torches were left burning in their sconces. Maya tried to settle her nerves as she prepared for the darkness to come.

She looked back, but the winding stairwell was empty. Maya shook her head before she stepped into the catacombs.

Only two torches held the darkness at bay like tiny lighthouses. Maya fought the urge to run, yet it pushed her to gain speed until her cloak billowed away from her shoulders. She shivered but did not slow.

She was panting when she stopped at the dungeon door. Maya was about to flatten herself against the wall when she pulled her hand back in disgust, trailing strings of mucus. The late spring rains ended only days before, and the stone walls were slick with a slime mold.

Concentrating on her breathing, Maya forced her heart to slow back to a normal rhythm as she pulled a handkerchief from her dress pocket to dry her hand. After years of training, mastering her emotions was easy when she tried. She drew her hood over her head, hiding her face in its folds, before peering around the corner.

The guard snored, hunched in a chair. Maya knew he was once Rieont’s best soldier, but Palar was in his last years and frail. He refused retirement, and so he spent each night guarding the prisoners.

A meaty hand gripped her shoulder. Maya jumped, a cold knot forming in her stomach as she turned to meet her captor, and found General Bour looming over her.

“I didn’t know it was possible to startle an empath,” he said.

“Only if they’re distracted,” she answered. “Did I wake you?”

“No, my lady.” Bour cleared his throat. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he said. “I was on my way to the kitchens for an early breakfast when I heard someone coming down the stairs. I waited to see who was wondering the halls at such an hour and was surprised to see you heading to the castle’s lowest levels.” He regarded her with an eyebrow cocked. “We’ve always been so concerned with keeping people out of the castle. We never thought of keeping one in.”

“Surely you don’t believe I’d run away.”

“Women are just as bad as men about becoming flighty as their wedding day approaches.”

“Even if that were the case, I’ve no use for such a practice in futility,” Maya said. “Who could hope to hide from Lanre?”

“Someone who knows ways to avoid his senses,” Bour answered.

“No one can employ such a skill indefinitely.”

Bour straightened, raising to his full height, and crossed thick arms over his broad chest.

“Why this early morning stroll then?”

“Everyone needs to hear their heart pound in their ears now and again.” Maya sighed, feeling the blood rise to her face. “It’s a game I’ve played for years.”

Bour stared at her. Maya could feel his skepticism and heard it in his voice when he asked why.

“I may stay busy, but anyone would grow bored with the numbing safeness of it all here in the castle.”

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you, my lady.”

“Oh?” Maya asked. “Do you not see evidence in your own children?” Bour said nothing, but she could feel him growing less sure of his position. “Iren has drills and training. Are you telling me he doesn’t enjoy them? He doesn’t come back energized despite his fatigue?” Still Bour said nothing. “Which legends do Hira and Jestine read time and again? Surely I didn’t imagine their excitement when the storyteller’s tales turned dreadful?”

“What does my daughters’ choice in legends have to do with your sneaking about the castle?”

“Different means to the same end,” Maya answered. “We need a rush of adrenaline now and again. How can we trust our instincts if we don’t test our defenses?”

“I believe your…defenses…have been tested enough,” Bour said. “Come, I’ll escort you back to your room.”

“Would you deprive me of the rest of my game?” Maya asked, letting annoyance seep into her voice. “I still have an hour before anyone would notice me.”

“Really?”

“I’ve been playing this game for years,” she answered. She could feel Bour growing bored with their conversation as he believed her more and more. She was already stretching the truth about the time and hoped she wouldn’t be forced to attempt an emotion graft to escape him. “I’ve learned how to avoid the guards. Meeting you was a fluke.”

The big man sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “As you wish, my lady.”

“I’ll see you at the evening meal, General.”

“Don’t think I won’t tell Lanre about our little conversation if I don’t see you there.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure you see me.” Maya smiled. “Have a good day, General.”

“Happy skulking.” Bour winked and turned.

Maya listened as he thudded down the hall. Her eyes popped open when the footsteps stopped, and she prayed he hadn’t changed his mind.

Bour spoke without turning around. “Perhaps you should wear a darker color next time. White glows.”

“But that’s part of the fun,” Maya answered.

Bour chuckled as he walked away. She watched him fade into the shadows. Her body sagged with relief, and only the memory of her unpleasant experience with the mold growing on the walls kept her from falling against them. A long, dark stain down the back of her cloak would be impossible to explain away.

When she could no longer hear Bour’s steps, Maya peered around the corner again. Palar was still asleep, apparently unable to hear the conversation just outside his station. Maya shook her head, grateful for her luck.

Maya crept through the opening and past Palar. As she expected, none of the torches were lit. All light in the dungeon save the guard’s station was extinguished at the same time each evening.

She reached out with her senses, using the dampened emotions of the prisoners as a guide. Sweat beaded her brow despite the chill. The fight to control her emotions, feel her way along, and maintain a mental shield against Lanre’s telepathy was almost too much.

It seemed an eternity before Maya found the empty cell, and she was lightheaded and shaking by the time she reached it. Maya trailed her fingers just above the wall’s surface. The rough-hewn stone was cold and sticky with mold here as well. A metal ring protruded from the wall about a meter from the bars.

Maya used her ruined handkerchief to grasp the slimy metal ring and twisted it to the right. The neglected device resisted. She grit her teeth as she strained to budge the corrupted joint.

A section of wall sank back and slid away to reveal an earthen tunnel. Maya was thankful for the disgusting mold preventing the stones from grinding against each other and waking the prisoners. She stepped into the dismal old tunnel, triggered the better-preserved closing mechanism, and waited for the passage to close before she moved farther.

She dropped the soiled handkerchief to fumble for the box of matches in her pocket. Habit guided her fingers as she found the box and pulled out one of the long matches. She slid the box closed and struck the match. It hissed to life, shocking Maya’s eyes after time in total darkness. Wrinkling her nose against the match’s sharp smell, she used the point of light to find the torch she knew waited to be used.

It was there, dry and dusty for she could only guess how many years. Did torches become unusable after a time? She’d never thought to ask.

Maya held the match to its surface not daring to breathe for fear of extinguishing her only light as the torch sparked and caught fire. Being careful of her movements while the torch fought for life, she dropped the match and stamped it out. The flame grew, providing a weak light and filling the tunnel with acrid smoke.

Maya retrieved her soiled handkerchief and set the embroidered scrap of cloth on fire. She let it fall to the floor, knowing she would never be able to free it of the mold’s slime.

She watched it burn, entranced in her own thoughts. Why was she doing this? There was nothing but consequence, rumor, and speculation to cast suspicion on Tembar Flats and Count Ralic. The count’s reputation was nothing if not tarnished, true, but would he really kidnap his own sister-in-law and her escort? How could he even accomplish such a feat considering Princess Kalie’s dragon, Borcon, was traveling with her? All she felt sure of was this was something she had to do. The answers lay across the Wastelands.

Coughing, Maya shook her head, clamped down her mental shield, and wiped the tears from her watering eyes before pulling the extra handkerchief she’d brought from her pocket. She held it over her nose and mouth to filter the air.

She couldn’t let Lanre sense her intentions. He would stop her before she’d gone a kilometer. She stamped out the last embers of the burning handkerchief and turned southward.

The passage, an old escape tunnel included when the castle was first built, twisted and turned to disorient any who attempted to use the route to infiltrate the castle or escape from the dungeon. However, for those who knew the correct path, it was a short walk from the entrance to the exit deep in McLay’s Forest.

It was mostly forgotten and neglected over the years. The documents she’d found buried in the library said the passage roof was over two meters high, but the roots of the trees above trundled down into the tunnel several centimeters in their search for water before turning until they found the walls or floor. Maya was a small woman, but she still had to crouch to avoid becoming tangled in the mass or setting it on fire with the torch.

Maya concentrated on the map she’d studied. One missed turn would either delay her for hours or make her hopelessly lost. The tunnels drank the light of her torch with an unquenchable thirst. She could only see a meter ahead in poor detail. The tree roots seemed to blend into the tunnel walls, and there were several times they nearly ensnared or tripped her.

Maya cursed under her breath as she reached the third bend.

“Think, Maya,” she whispered. “How did the sequence go? Left, right…left, right? Straight ahead!” The young woman smiled as she remembered. There were only two more junctions before the passage surfaced, and she was sure she could remember the last two directions.

When she reached the short stairwell, there wasn’t a torch or even a sconce. She cursed herself for being stupid enough to hope one would be hanging there, waiting for an invading army’s use. It made little sense to provide such a help to one’s enemies, so why would she have ever thought one would be there?

Maya dropped her torch and rolled it on the dusty floor to extinguish it, throwing herself into darkness again. Being her only light source other than matches, the half-spent torch would have to suffice. She hoped it would last long enough to see her back to the dungeon.

Maya groped for the lever and was thankful to find it dry and clear of the mold so prevalent in the dungeons. She pulled hard, but it wasn’t enough. She pulled again, throwing her weight into the action. The ancient joint gave way all at once and sent her sprawling onto the floor.

Maya groaned. Her heavy landing had caused a sharp pain across her hips and up her spine. It settled into a dull ache that slowed her movement toward the shafts of light filtering through the opening.

As she climbed the dirt-strewn stairs, Maya began to shake the dust out of her clothes. She breathed in the cool, spicy air, feeling cleansed by the action and surprised by how little light was available. It was just after dawn, and she had expected better visibility than the thick foliage permitted.

The path looked like nothing more than a lighter shade of black, and she was afraid she would wander from the way. Yet, she could not go back and retrieve the torch. She would need it later.

Maya bit her lip to keep from screaming in frustration with herself as she turned back to the still open exit. The tunnel couldn’t stay open. Who knew what would find its way inside during her absence? The small predators in the forest were no real danger to humans, being too skittish to approach, but Maya had no desire to stay and see them nonetheless.

The oddity of a trapdoor covered in earth and moss standing ajar in the midst of a forest path struck her as she turned, and she choked back a nervous laugh. She walked around the side and climbed onto the door. It groaned under her weight and began to sink back into place. Maya faltered and crouched low to better maintain her balance. The door dropped lower with every step she took closer to the edge and finally snapped back into place.

She picked her way along the leaf-strewn path, failing in her attempts to travel quietly. Her mind wandered over the past months’ events.

Princess Kalie disappeared a full three months before. Why did she insist upon visiting her family at such a bad time of year? Why couldn’t she wait until the snows thawed and the weather tamed? If Borcon had been able to fly, she would be home now. Only a dragon could take down another Yekaran in midair. A grounded dragon could be overpowered if surprised, but Borcon raised enough noise to alert the dragons at Rieont Castle. It seemed unlikely he was taken by surprise.

If he was killed, how could anyone hide or drag away the body before the others arrived? All the proposed explanations either made no sense or raised more questions.

Maya shook her head, trying to clear it of such distracting thoughts. She could think of nothing King Aligh and Prince Lanre hadn’t since Kalie’s disappearance. The two worked tirelessly. King Aligh’s health was close enough to failing without exhausting himself in a futile investigation. There seemed to be no one with both the motive and the means to accomplish the crime.

Although he wasn’t exactly helpful following Kalie’s disappearance, there was no reason to suspect Count Ralic other than his questionable past. The man had become a hermit years before, but the attack did occur in his province. If nothing else, he might know something helpful. Lanre often said as much, but he was reluctant to travel to Tembar Castle to speak with his uncle for fear of perpetuating the rumors of the count’s involvement.

Light broke through the foliage in increasing patches near the forest’s edge. Here and there, patches of bright color peeked from the shadows where young flowering trees fought for light and space among the older arbors. Relieved and cheered by the path’s improved clarity and pushed by her desire for the full light of day, Maya doubled her speed. The sunlight was painful when she exited the forest.

Maya knew the fate of Tembar Flats, but seeing the red sands of Tembar’s Wastelands stretching out to the horizon was still troubling. Aligh and Kalie told her the Wastelands were once as fertile and green as Rieont, but a plague decimated the province.

The villages became too under populated to function, so Count Ralic invited the villagers to Tembar Proper. He hired men to help build homes and divert the irrigation tunnels from the unused lands to the fields surrounding Tembar Castle. Even after the plague cases dropped off, villagers and traders remained wary of traveling through the province, leaving the area isolated and rumor fodder.

It didn’t seem real until she crossed the border into Tembar. The ground grew more unstable until her boots sank to the ankles in sand. She trudged toward Tembar Castle, happy she’d decided to wear boots instead of the cooler slippers.

Continue to chapter 1, part 2.

How I spent my year off...

2011-07-28T07:34:00.002-05:00

I didn't realize it had been a year since I posted here until I looked back at the post list this morning. I apologize for leaving for a year with no warning, but it wasn't planned. However, I can't say I'm sorry for how I've spent the year away from this blog.

So, what have I been up to? Well, first off, I finally managed to publish Surviving Murphy. That was released at the end of November.

Why didn't I come back after that? Well, I got a bit side tracked starting my own business. As much as I love writing, I stand a much better way of making bills that way. So I make bath and body products some afternoons each week, write on the others, and I spend two or three hours each evening either French knitting or crocheting.

But none of that is really why I'm writing today. No, I'm writing because Right of Succession will be serially published starting Monday morning.

I decided to make my novels available free to read online both here and through Contented Comfort's books page as they are published, one post a week. Then after the novels are completed, paperbacks will be made available through the store. There are two reasons for this. First, I didn't want to have to wait years to make good on offering books, other than Surviving Murphy, for my customers when I had at least one edited, revised, and ready to go. And second, I've been working on some of my novels since I was just barely into my teenage years, and I'm a grown woman with a kindergartener and a preschooler now. I'm tired of siting on my work, waiting to be able to commit to writing full time for a publishing house.

The serial format gives me plenty of time to revise, edit, and do a second revision on drafts I already have while the current novel is being published. And once I get through the drafts I have, I will have a chance to take an idea from draft to finished novel while the ones ahead of it are being published. So, if all goes to plan, there will always be something new to read over on the book page come Monday morning.

Top Ten Most Fascinating Women of Sci-Fi

2010-06-09T08:12:00.006-05:00

Okay, it's the ladies' turn in the spotlight today folks. Here's my pick for the ten most fascinating women in science fiction, and I have to say, I'm a lot more confident in my choices for this list than Tuesday's. I'm sure there are lots of great series out there I haven't seen or read, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this readers.

I'm still floundering a bit with the women of fantasy list I have planned for next week, so any suggestions are welcome. What if I were to include mythology or the original versions of classic fairy tales?

Anyway, on to the list. As with the last one, there are some spoilers in the descriptions, so be forewarned.

10. Guinan from "Star Trek: The Next Generation"

When you're going for interesting characters in science fiction or fantasy, one easy place to look is among characters of long lived races. I mean, you simply can't live hundreds of years and be one dimensional.

Guinan is El-Aurian, a long lived race of listeners, which makes her a natural bar tender. She was something of a confidant, councilor, auntie, and surrogate mother to the crew of the Enterprise-D. Soft spoken and kind, she also had a bite, enough to make Q wary of her and to wipe the shooting range floor with Worf.

9. Dr. Samantha "Sam" Carter from "Stargate SG1" and "Stargate Atlantis"

Samantha Carter is one of those characters that prove nerdy girls can be sexy and kick booty while getting their geek on. Whether she was making desperate repairs, rigging devices MacGyver style, upsetting cultures (in a good way), or running to the rescue with guns blazing, SG1 would have fallen flat without their female second-in-command. Oh, and she made it all ten seasons without dying half a dozen times, unlike some characters.

(As much as I like O'Neill, I included this pic because some of Carter's funniest moments were bickering with McKay.)

8. Lessa from Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series.

I know the series name may make it seem like this one belongs on the fantasy list, but if you've read the entire series, you know the Pern books are technically science fiction.

Readers get to see a lot of Lessa in the Dragonriders series. She's a teen at the beginning of "Dragonflight," and she's in her forties by the time "All the Weyrs of Pern" rolls around. (I stopped reading after Todd McCaffrey took over the series, so I don't know what goes on from there.) Lessa runs the gambit from sweet to bratty, wise to recklessly stupid throughout the series.

One of many children of a lord holder, Lessa survives the massacre of her family through dumb luck, and hides as a drudge. Years later, she gives up her claim to run the hold in order to take a chance of impressing the last queen egg. Eventually, she follows a hunch in deciding to use her dragon's ability to travel between space and time to travel 400 years into the past and back again in an effort to save Pern. (Like I said, genius and stupid all at once.)

7. Max Guevara from "Dark Angel"

Max is one of many of the ultimate test tube babies in this near future, post apocalyptic series. Max, along with her "brothers and sisters," were genetically engineered and trained by the U.S. government to be super soldiers. Each posses bits of animal DNA, which give them increased senses, stamina, strength, speed, and can come with some nasty side effects such as seizures when their diet isn't sufficiently high in tryptophan and periodically going into heat.

Max becomes entangled with "Eyes Only," a behind-the-scenes political activist, and eventually leads her fellow chimeras into the light.

6. Sarah Connor from the Terminator series

You've gotta love Connor's personification of the mama bear instinct. Here she was, just this normal girl minding her own business when this killer robot from the future starts trying to kill her and some guy saves her only to start spouting off an insane story about how she's the mother of the resistance leader.

Sarah Connor blossoms into a kick butt character after the end of the first film, when she learns she's pregnant. Her priorities shift with that tangible proof of the story she was given, well other than the freaky killer robot, and she sets out not only to protect her son in the here and now but to try to keep that future from coming to pass at all. Along the way she sometimes forgets her son John is still just a kid. She's not a perfect mom by any means, but she's a perfect example of why you never mess with someone's child.

5. Zoe Graystone from "Caprica"

Never mind the advanced technology, obscene amounts of money and material goods her family has, or the fact she's growing up on one of twelve planetary colonies humanity has set up, Zoe Graystone is your typical teenager. She just so happens to also be a programming prodigy with major reservations about society.

In a culture of polytheistic beliefs and extreme decadence, Zoe is a monotheist with high morals. She seeks to spread reform with her best friend and boyfriend, not realizing her boyfriend is a religious extremist until seconds before he sets off a bomb on the railway, killing them both, and leaving behind nothing but the virtual avatar she made of herself. Zoe's father, who has been working on a military android design, discovers Zoe's avatar and downloads it into his android in a misguided attempt to resurrect his daughter, thus creating the Cylon race.

4. Zhaan from "Farscape"

Welcome our only plant based entry on the list.

When we first saw Zhaan, she was introduced as a priest and escaping prisoner. As the series progressed, we learned she is a talented healer and botanist, which makes sense considering she's a plant. She is also guilty of the crime she was imprisoned for, a political assassination against her mentor and lover, when he was willing to bring in a hired army to maintain his power. This act of violence triggered a madness in her, which is the norm for her species, and she managed to regain her sanity through decades of meditation and prayer, which is exceedingly rare.

Alternately comforting and frightening, Zhaan embodied the full range of feminine roles throughout mythology and folklore. She was at once mother and monster, creation and destruction, nurturing kindness and chastening rod.

3. Kara "Starbuck" Thrace from "Battlestar Galactica"

I know a lot of folks have a problem with the fact Starbuck's sex was changed in the new series. (What about Boomer? Same deal there, but no one made a big deal out of it.) Personally I don't see what the big deal is. Starbuck's still arrogant, hot headed, and sex crazed: same basic personality with a different wrapper.

From what little I've seen of the original Galactica, the new series' take on Starbuck is a whole lot more interesting, and it has nothing to do with the fact she's a girl. It has everything to do with better character development. It's what sets the new series apart from the old, character driven plots and story lines that span whole seasons.

Forget daddy issues, Kara has mama issues. She's spent her whole life trying to live up to her mother's expectations and later pushes herself to be the best after the death of her fiance'. Her luck with men is atrocious. The Cylons, Leoben in particular, believe she's caught up in their destiny somehow and haunt her for it, going so far as to mentally torture her on New Caprica after having stolen one of her ovaries on Caprica Prime.

And I still haven't figured out what happened with that time loop thing in the last couple seasons.

2. Echo from "The Dollhouse"

Whedon seems to have a thing for female characters who are as strong as they are messed up. Discounting the parody "Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog," all of Whedon's series are represented at least once on the women of science fiction and fantasy lists I'm working on.

Echo, also known as Caroline, was your average college student with a yen for political activism. She got in over her head when she tried to take on Rossum, and ended up as a "doll" in one of the company's dollhouses. Her personality was wiped from her mind and stored on a computer wedge while her mind was constantly overwritten and her body hired out to the highest bidder.

It's soon apparent Echo's mind is more elastic than anticipated, and she begins accessing supposedly wiped information in times of distress. Then a psychotic "doll" going by Alpha decided to dump every personality she'd ever been implanted with in her head all at once. Because of her natural neural elasticity, Echo handles the artificial dissociative disorder better than Alpha did, eventually helping to take down Rossum from the inside.

1. River Tam from "Firefly"

The Tam family always knew River was a genius: not a run of the mill genius either, I'm talking nearly off the IQ charts type genius. So, when she's offered a place with an academy for the gifted, they jumped on the opportunity for her and never looked back. Luckily for her, River's older brother Simon noticed her cries for help from within the academy, a front for the Blue Sun corporation, who was experimenting on exceedingly gifted children.

Simon was able to help River escape, but she was left mentally damaged by her stint with Blue Sun. Much of what she says seems like gibberish until a few minutes or hours later. Simon eventually discovers Blue Sun completely stripped River of her emotional defenses, meaning she is literally incapable of blocking her feelings or controlling her emotions. This empathetic openness combined with her natural intellectual prowess create a type of extrasensory perception, bordering on telepathy and precognition.

In addition, River was trained as an assassin. The combination of her innocence and youth and her extreme skill with weapons of any type as well as hand to hand make her a disturbing blend of pure nightmare and cute kid sister.

There's been a major upsurge in quality female characters in the science fiction genre of late, so this was actually one of the easier lists to compose. Oddly enough, followed closely by the men's list for the fantasy genre. Make sure to come back to see that one next week.

Oh, and the world building series will continue on Sunday. I've no idea how it happened but "birthday season" took me by surprise this year, and I've been a little buried under multiple gatherings, headaches, and an injury the past few weekends. That's what I get for not prescheduling posts days in advance, and I apologize for the inconvenience.

Top Ten Most Fascinating Men of Sci-Fi

2010-06-08T13:55:00.006-05:00

Lately I've been playing around with some character studies, and these exercises got me to thinking about all the great characters that pulled me into the fantasy and science fiction genres. Today's list is the first of four top ten lists as I see them, though I am open to suggestions, especially when it comes to women of fantasy.

(You wouldn't believe how hard it is to think of truly fascinating female characters in the fantasy genre. Then again, maybe I just haven't perused enough material.)

If the lists seem a little heavy on Stargate, Star Trek, Battlestar Galatica, and the works of Anne McCaffrey, I did ask for suggestions on both Facebook and Twitter for the past month. I only received one answer that you'll see in the women of fantasy list next week, so these other lists are the characters I could think of based on the series, movies, books, and comics I've read or seen, and the series above are my favorites.

(Star Wars is among my favorites, but the majority of the characters got beat out by better written ones. Sorry.)

Oh, and fair warning, some descriptions contain spoilers.

10. Peter Reidinger from Anne McCaffrey's "Pegasus in Flight" and "Pegasus in Space."

Peter became a paraplegic when a wall collapsed on him early in his adolescence. He was discovered as a "talent" when he began astral projecting himself into Rhyssa Owen's room without realizing what he was doing. After years of training, he becomes a key part of humanity's journey to the stars.

The sheer power of Peter's telekinesis make you want to scream Stu, but McCaffrey's handling of his disability and fight to learn fine control of his telekinesis to give himself the appearance of normalcy make him one of the best teenage science fiction characters around. Plus, his interaction with surrogate little sister, Amariyah, is just adorable.

9. Darien Fawkes from "The Invisible Man" (2000 TV Series)

(This one was suggested by Mom. I really don't remember much about this series as it never caught my fantsy.)

Darien believed he was following in his father's footsteps when he began picking locks as a teen. Then he chose to perform CPR when his latest robbery victim suffers a heart attack instead of fleeing, resulting in his third strike and a life sentence until his brother gets him released on the condition he becomes a test subject. He becomes a reluctant agent for "The Agency," who funded the project, if he wants access to the Quicksliver counter-agent that can keep him from going insane as the substance builds up in his system every time he goes invisible.

8. Quinn Mallory from "Sliders"

Mallory is a physics prodigy who discovers a way to travel between parallel worlds. Along with his college professor, friend Wade, and a passing singer who happened to drive into the interdimensional vortex, Quinn "slides" through the multiverse searching for home after the algorithm which should have taken them home is corrupted.

Often sweet and possessed of an overgrown sense of responsibility, Quinn tries to right wrongs throughout their journey. Though he does take to brooding and becomes a pain in the rear and a real jerk in later seasons due to those same traits and his tendency to take everything onto himself, be it responsibility or criticism.

7. Leonard "Bones" McCoy from "Star Trek: The Original Series"

Abrasive, grouchy, occasionally bigoted, but ultimately a caring and good man with a quirky sense of humor, Dr. McCoy is one of the most interesting and least annoying characters of the original series. He wasn't shy about stepping in as the voice of Kirk's conscience and provided a perfect foil for Spock's logic.

6. Shepherd Book from "Firefly"

Okay, I know I didn't mention this series in my list of favorites, but I'm a total brown coat. Half the sci-fi lists for both men and women could have been made up of Firefly characters, but I didn't think that'd be fair.

Book is Whedon's second take on a scary preacher man. Unlike Caleb from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Book is mentally stable and not at all prone to torturing and killing young girls. He even warns Captain Reynolds, ironically played by the same actor who played Caleb, of the special hell reserved for "child molesters and people who talk in the theater" when Reynolds accidentally marries a young girl via an archaic ritual.

Though Shepherd book hails from Southdown Abby and is often seen performing the duties of a preacher, as well as studying his Bible, there are hints given throughout the series that he wasn't always a preacher. In fact, he's shown downright fear a few times when his identity or at least his ID is revealed. His past remains a topic of speculation.

5. Michael from "Stargate Atlantis"

And now we come to our first true villain on the list, the human-wraith hybrid Michael. I like my heroes a bit on the Byronic side and my satans Miltonian, which is why I'm so fond of this character in particular. He's psychotic and as evil as they come, but you can't help but feel sorry for him.

I mean first he's captured and used as a lab rat, and then he's tossed out on his rear by his kinsmen because he's no longer fully wraith. He's cast out everywhere. Is it any wonder he's a little touchy?

Though his obsession with Teyla's magic baby was a little over the top on the creep out meter.

4. Jean-Luc Picard from "Star Trek: The Next Generation"

I know some of you are probably clamoring that Kirk should be up here, but let's face it, Kirk's a big ol' Gary Stu at the best of times, and although I enjoyed the latest Trek movie, it just made the character more of a Stu than ever.

Picard is an interesting character without being over the top. He has strengths and flaws, which do a fine job of making him stand out without having to hog the spotlight. His adventures with Q and the friendship/flirtation he had with Dr. Crusher, balanced by an irritation with her son's involvement on the ship, were key points for the character.

3. Dr. Daniel Jackson from "Stargate SG1"

If Dr. Jackson were to write a memoir, it'd have to be titled "Confessions of a Frequently Dead and Often Insane Archeologist." The man just can't stay dead, and he has worse luck with women than BtVS's Xander Harris.

After being laughed out of academia for his theories regarding aliens and the pyramids, Jackson was hired by the U.S. government to make some translations for them. In doing so, he discovers how an ancient artifact called the Stargate works and goes through with the first team. After his wife is taken by alien parasites, he joins SG1 as he searches for her. While often being one of the brains of the team and a major moral compass for the SGC, Jackson has his fair share of dark side moments up to and including becoming an agent of the enemy, for those of you who don't like to pretend like the last two seasons never happened.

(Though if there's a Stargate equivalent of Clan Denial for seasons 9 and 10, sign me up.)

2. Scorpius (and Harvey) from "Farscape"

Ah, another villain makes the list.

Scorpius is one of those characters that can pull you in and make you gag at the same time. He's enigmatic, depraved, cultured, and barbaric all at once.

He's a balance of opposing forces by his very nature, being half heat intolerant Sebacean, half warmth loving Scarron. He's the result of the Scarron's attempt to further their race by blending genetics. He's rejected by the Sebaceans, who are nearly fanatical about genetic purity, and by the Scarrons who see his need for a coolant suit to survive as an unforgivable weakness. Because of this, he holds no loyalty to either of his parent races, and ruthlessly seeks after his own ends.

His desire for the wormhole knowledge John Crichton possesses leads him to implant a neural clone of himself in John's brain. John spends much of the series trying to have the clone removed, but eventually gives up, dubbing the clone Harvey as it begins to take on a character of its own. Harvey, who is mostly interested with staying alive, does whatever he can to keep John alive and sane, even at Scorpius' expense.

1. Gaius Baltar of the new "Battlestar Galatica"

I'll admit, I've only ever caught a few episodes of the original Battlestar Galactica, so I'm not exactly familiar with the character's original incarnation. (I'm a character driven kind of girl with a yen for dark fic, so the new series holds a thousand times more appeal for me personally.)

With the allegorical leanings of this new series, Baltar is its Paul. Being a self-centered playboy genius and eventually selling out humanity to make his latest conquest, Baltar is the chief of sinners. Even after he realizes what he did, he continues in his self-serving ways even as a mental incarnation of his Cylon lover whispers about God's plan for him in his ear. Redemption begins for him during his presidency on New Caprica, where he secretly aids the resistance. He's reviled for his public displays of cooperation and barely escapes being put to death. However, the memoir he partially published while in the brig makes him something of a spiritual leader for a segment of the fleet.

He shares his pondering on God and life, at first to keep his place among those who support him and thus ensure his safety, and later because of genuine belief. Eventually he is redeemed through his first selfless act in the series as he helps defend Galatica against a Basestar and helping Caprica Six find Hera, the half human, half cylon Eve.

* The pictures are screen caps and promotional shots. I apologize for the formatting. I've corrected what I can, but blogger seems to be acting up today.

A Toddler's Art

2010-05-06T06:34:00.000-05:00

If Boo Bear is my storyteller, Sneak is my budding artist.

She's just discovering the joys of drawing, but she's already very serious about her artwork. Where Boo is bubbly and happy go lucky regarding most everything, Sneak is quiet and intense much of the time.

This intensity is most evident when Sneak comes across something new to explore and when she's sitting with paper and crayons or clay. To put it simply, I wish I had half the concentration and focus this 21-month-old child has for any task she undertakes.

Two Years!

2010-05-05T06:39:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe The Tekaran Lady has been up and running for two years!

So, I want to hear from you. What do you like about the blog? What do you want to see change? And what do you want to talk about in the blog's third year?

Ah why not? Happy Star Wars Day!

2010-05-04T12:28:00.002-05:00

Make sure you're on the light side of the Force, or you might end up like this guy.

Fiction vs. Nonfiction

2010-05-04T06:33:00.000-05:00

As returning readers know, other than the obligatory essays in college and a few articles here and there, I'm a fiction writer. Yet I'm taking a few months off from rewriting my last manuscript to draft a book of tips for living well as cost effectively as possible. This is my first, and likely only foray into writing a full length nonfiction book.

Writing nonfiction is a whole different ballgame. After roughly nineteen years of fiction writing, it feels foreign. Even though it is technically correct, it doesn't "sound" right. The rhythm's different without dialogue, and I'm struggling to find my voice with it. Thankfully I still have plenty of time for rewrites and edits before the tentative release date.

While in some ways easier, in others nonfiction is more difficult to compose. You don't have to worry about world building and character development, but organization is more stringent and there's citation to worry about. You can't jazz up nonfiction by adding conflict if it gets a little dull.

All in all, I can write nonfiction and enjoy it even, but I'm at home writing fiction.

Introducing a New Writer

2010-05-03T06:25:00.000-05:00

Boo Bear wrote her first book at the end of last year. She'd been entertaining Hubby and me with tales she made up for months, so I suggested making a book to give her grandparents for Christmas. She loved the idea.

Boo told me one of her stories, and I wrote it out for her. Then, after asking for a few clarifications on the details, I drew out some rather pathetic pictures she and Sneak colored. Hubby and I scanned them into the computer and put them together into the book.

You should have seen her when her Pops and Nana and Gammy and Papa read the story. I recognized the expression. She has the bug, and she has it bad.

She's been drawing comic books and making skits ever since. (Hey, she's not even four yet, and only partway to reading and writing. So, she tells her stories through pictures and actions for now.)

* The picture is Boo being a princess sometime last spring.

2010-04-27T06:04:00.000-05:00

Now that work has pretty much wrapped up on the website I've been building, I am setting my sights on finishing off the first draft of "The Cookbook" by the end of May. Given the current rate I'm writing on the ebook, I see I will either need to take a partial hiatus from this blog and Diary of a Work-at-Home-Mom or line up a few guest bloggers for the next few weeks.

I'd much prefer to have some guest bloggers over, so I'm currently looking for a few.

For a full list of usual topics, simply look to the right side of each blog, and you will find a list of labels. But to summarize, Diary of a WAHM is the broadest of the two, encompassing everything from the day to day realities of working-from-home while raising young children, homeschooling, parenting, and marriage to weight loss, cooking, and household management tips. This blog is where I usually write about my fiction writing, but it also goes into books, television shows, and movies in the science-fiction and fantasy genres, writing in general, sources of inspiration, and random thoughts on science articles I come across now and again.

If you are interested in writing for either blog, please email me at tekaranlady (at) gmail (dot) com.

Oops, I Did It Again!

2010-04-06T08:56:00.002-05:00

Just when I thought I'd learned my lesson about over doing things, I did it again. Oh man, I'm so exhausted!

First off, the past couple of weekends have been absolutely packed! Birthday dinners, Easter festivities, Hubby working overtime all weekend, writing up as many advance posts as possible, training for a 5K, and doing some volunteer work for a local school all while trying to keep up with my writing schedule for the "cookbook," keep the house in some sort of order, and tend to an extremely active preschooler and a toddler with a penchant for climbing everything in sight.

Being that a lot of the "work" stuff is computer related, I thought it would be okay. Unfortunately I seem to have forgotten how long some of this copywriting, blogging, and design stuff can take, and apparently long hours on the computer translates into insomnia. Or maybe I'm just taking so long, I end up hitting my second wind just before I finish, and it takes a couple of hours for me to settle down again. I'm not sure.

Time to start taking some mandatory breaks or setting a time to close up shop for the day, I think.

It only occurred to me this morning that spending several hours a day working in front of a computer screen may be one of those mystery migraine triggers, even with the aid of my reading glasses. The prescription is four years old, and I'm starting to find myself squinting at the screen even when I'm wearing them. And "painless" optical migraines were the listed reason for prescribing the reading glasses in the first place. Eye strain would certainly explain why I still have issues with bright spots, multicolored webs, and shadows in my field of vision even when I'm not experiencing pain.