Tag: Alternate world

Impossible

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

That’s how she knew she had stepped through. Thirteen hours on the clock. The impossible hour. Her breath froze and shattered as another puff left her nostrils. Humans weren’t meant to be here. Well, here wasn’t exactly the right word. Weren’t meant to be… now? Whatever; she needed to get her proof and find a way out before it was too late.

Her fingers, already growing numb, fumbled with the lens cover on her camera. Impossibly, the camera felt warm; maybe it wasn’t the day that was cold after all. She gripped the thing firmly and turned in a slow circle,eyes squinting into the too bright sky.

A – creature – stared at her unblinking from twenty feet away. She thought it wasn’t blinking; she couldn’t seem to focus on it properly. As if it wasn’t quite, well, possible. And it was sort of sitting in mid air, which was really beginning to wig her out. She hastily raised the camera and pressed the button.

The creature squawked and vanished at the same time that the camera disintegrated in a loud black rumbling puff. The clock face cracked and the hands spun out of control. Ice crept up from the ground, locking her in place, and her scream was a silent crystal shooting from her nerveless mouth.

The Accident

https://pixabay.com/photos/nature-path-scenery-landscape-5177581/

Something was wrong. She must have hit her head harder than she thought; could a concussion make you see color differently? She touched her forehead gingerly and pushed herself to her feet. What had she been doing? Oh yes, running. She had tripped and hit her head because…

Something had been in the woods, and she had looked over her shoulder. She’d tried to catch herself. Why hadn’t it worked? And seriously, why were the trees pink?

Green light lit the trees from behind, and she took an involuntary step back. A wild glance all around only disoriented her and made her head hurt worse, so she stood still, breath coming ragged in her throat.

An old man stepped out of the trees, kicking purple dust into the roadway as the toe of his boot caught in the loam beside it. “How do you come to be here?” He demanded, his brows lowering above sharp cheekbones. “This is not the way!”

“I must be delirious,” she muttered, but ice crawled up her spine all the same. She touched her aching head again, just as the old man stepped toward her, his stride impossibly long. Deep purple eyes smouldered inches from her face, and his voice rose to a screech.

“Where is the Artifact?”

The Key

https://pixabay.com/photos/key-secret-forest-woods-discover-5216637/

“Do you see that?” Shana’s forehead creased, and she side-eyed Jesse as he stepped beside her.

“See what?” He glanced around, eyebrows raised. His gaze slid easily over the stump in question, and she knew he couldn’t possibly see what she was seeing, but she persisted anyway.

“That stump over there,” she pressed, pointing with a finger that trembled slightly. “Don’t you see anything?

He peered with a slight frown into the underbrush. “You mean, that moss-covered rotting thing that’s half buried?” He turned to look at her, head cooking to one side in that usually endearing little habit of his. Now it just irritated her; if he couldn’t see it, she was definitely hallucinating, and she could not be hallucinating. Not again.

“Yes, that one!” Shana half-screeched and clenched her fists at her sides. She stomped over to the stump and glared at him. “How do you possibly miss something this weird?” She bent down and snatched the key from where it lay on the smoothly cut surface of the wood and thrust it toward him so hard she almost threw it.

But he wasn’t there. Instead, an old man smiled at her and reached out to catch the key as it fell from her nerveless fingers. “Ah, there you are! What luck! I’m never sure I have it right, you know. And you’ve missed it so many times already.”

“Missed it?” Her voice quavered, barely audible even in the quiet under the trees.

“Nevermind all that now, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.” The old man tossed the key and caught it casually before slipping it into a voluminous pocket in his robe. “Come, we must get you settled in and ready to assume your duties.”

He turned and strode off into the woods, leaving Shana staring after him with her mouth hanging open. “Come… where?” She demanded, her voice trailing off as he ignored her completely. She slowly followed him with a wild glance back at the empty, rotting stump.

A Sneak Peek and a Sale

_United_, Book 2 of Magicborn, is officially in progress. Because you are my most loyal supporters, I am giving you a rare sneak peek into the first draft of my process. Very few people get to see anything this early, partly because it is mostly bare bones of story waiting to be fleshed out and polished in later drafts, and partly because my stories tend to change as they grow and I often rewrite the early chapters completely a few times. So, enjoy the exerpt below and consider yourself privileged to see Seline as I see her at this point in her story.

— Several minutes passed and nothing happened. Finally Narrayssi trudged back over to us, her forehead wrinkled and her arms crossed over her chest. “I can feel the dragon when I reach for it but I can’t draw it out. The magic here is – different. Weaker, I suppose.”

— Dagda shifted where he leaned against an oak but said nothing. He had managed with some effort to create a small kettle for cooking what food we had scavenged over the past two days, but all efforts to shape the trees or the land into even a crude shelter had failed. As a result we had shivered an entire night away in an October rainstorm. Dagda’s blankets hadn’t done much good soaked in cold water.

— I sighed, rubbing my temples with chilly fingertips. “I guess that just leaves me.” I paced, thinking. “I still think you have the best chance of connecting with the Atlanteans. If I can change, I want you to fly with me. We can link and maybe between the two of us the magic will be strong enough.”

— When she agreed, I rubbed my arms vigorously and strode off to the center of the clearing. I stood still, my arms loose at my sides and my eyes closed. The magic was still there inside me, but using it felt like pulling my feet out of the mud on the trail in Fae. Where it had flowed through me without effort in Fae, now it settled and waited for me to draw it out. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to transform or to hold onto the great power of the dragon when I had, but I had to try.

— I reached for the part of me that had awoken in Fae. It stirred, much more slowly than before, as if a great beast disturbed in hibernation uncoiled itself with much stretching and grumbling. I closed my eyes, a wrinkle forming above my nose from my effort to concentrate solely on the dragon within. As if angered by the break in its slumber, it rushed upward, its roar blasting fire into the sky as black wings filled the clearing and scraped trees with their tips. I revelled in it, even as it drained the magic from my blood.

All of you lovely readers here have been so supportive, helping me to grow this little corner of the universe. Without you I’d still be sending my stories into empty air! In the spirit of the season of gratitude and giving, I am drastically reducing the price of _Chosen_, Book 1 of Magicborn for one day only.

As a specific thank you for all of your support, I am making a small token of my appreciation available just for my blog followers. Comment below during the month of December, tell something from the book that made you smile, frown, laugh, or cry, and include your mailing address, and I will send you a signed bookplate for the inside cover. I’m so excited to hear your reactions and talk about the story with you!

The Farm

https://pixabay.com/photos/old-elisabeth-houses-historical-3284212/

It had been there for 200 hundred years, looking exactly the same. Just another farm, with a neat farmhouse and barn. Everyone joked about cows in the house and family in the barn, because of the chimneys, but no one had ever thought much more about it.

Which I guess was strange in itself, now that I think of it. Especially since no one was ever invited there. I didn’t know anyone, even village elders, who had ever seen the inside of that house. Once a month someone would show up in town for supplies, but they were so stand-offish few had even been close enough to talk to them.

Then Molly Fern moved into the county with a sun allergy. While the rest of us slept, Molly roamed the countryside, and did she come around with some wild tales. Rumblings underground, strange lights in the house and barn, and pulses of what looked like smoke from the chimney folly. She caused quite the excitement for a while, but when she reported seeing people with missing skin exposing clockwork joints, most people decided she had a loose gear or two herself and tuned her out.

Not me. Which is why the two of us were hiding near the farm when the sky opened like a cellar door. No one will ever believe us, so I don’t know why I’m writing this down, but Molly thought it was important and I’d do anything for her. I can’t even explain what I saw through that door, but I’ll tell you this. I understand why the mice scatter when we open the cellar.

Official Virtual Book Launch

Get ready to step into a brand new story, full of magic and lore! Chosen will be available for purchase through multiple platforms on August 9th, 2021, and we are marking the occasion with a fun virtual Facebook party! The kids and I would love for you to join us for fun games, discussion, and sneak peeks into the world of Fae.

Click the link below to join the fun as we get ready for the event. If you want to check the book out ahead of time to see if it’s your cup of tea (or coffee), look below the event link to find all my previous teaser posts.

https://fb.me/e/2rrlHlcUi

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/02/21/book-teaser-chosen-the-sprite/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/03/06/book-teaser-chosen-the-vampyr/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/03/20/book-teaser-songs-of-fae/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/04/03/book-teaser-the-innkeeper/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/04/18/book-teaser-in-the-giants-hall/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/05/01/book-teaser-dwarves-and-elves/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/05/15/book-teaser-the-mer/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/05/29/book-teaser-the-queens-guard/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/06/13/book-teaser-the-dragon/

https://wordworkerrussell.wordpress.com/2021/06/26/book-teaser-the-confrontation/

The Fisher

FB_IMG_1589749643815She was a tiny boat, one of many lined up on the beach with the tide gently kissing their weathered boards. His first, purchased with the blood and sweat of grueling hours spent under the eye of his uncle. She wasn’t much to look at, peeling paint barely visible at the gunwale and salt soaked boards scoured by the sea. Even the rope tying her to the meager mooring hung heavy with the living debris of the waves. But she was sound, and she was his. He swelled with pride looking at her.

A couple of stray gulls lingered nearby, probably in hopes of finding a meal in the carnage left by the fishermen. They wouldn’t hover long, he thought with a smile. His wrists and elbows still ached from the scrubbing he had given her. Don’t give the hunters of the sea a reason to hunt you, his uncle always said. Or the hunted a reason to run.

He glanced toward the whitewashed guildhouses standing above the reach of the tide. One day, he was sure, he would stand alongside his uncle under those wide doors, bargaining for the best prices for his catch. Only the best of the best were allowed membership; only the highest quality fish passed through guild hands to the Noblesse’s tables.

He had to prove himself. A boy of sixteen, the guildfishers scoffed. Even the other lonefishers raised skeptical eyebrows at the idea of a boy in their midst. Especially a boy with only one hand. Only his uncle thought he stood any chance, had agreed to trade work for this aging slip, had given his missing limb no quarter in order to be sure he learned. The ocean was unforgiving; it would not hold back, therefore he could not.

With the dawn would come his maiden voyage. There would be no easy trips to the reefs for him. Let the lonefishers make short work of those; they would only torment him anyway. He had his secret coves, his hidden markers where the guildfleets feared to go. Long years of boyhood spent alone had ensured that advantage, and he would never tell.

He grinned to himself. The Outliers would taste the wealth of a Noblesse for once. The Towners would never buy from him, not now. Let the rumors spread. Let them wonder. They would seek him out from jealousy alone, and he would laugh and charge them double to make them feel important. It would be the first step.

Dragon’s Ruin

FB_IMG_1572903609411She crouched motionless at the parapet, wondering if the army could even see her from the mainland. The scale of this place was almost beyond belief. She could feel the deep warmth of the setting sun on her face, but closed her eyes in determined effort to resist turning towards it. Absolute stillness, she had been warned; the slightest movement could be her undoing.

A sound like leather being shaken out deafened her, and a hurricane force gust nearly dislodged her from her post. Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounding while at the same time blood seemed to drain from her head. The creature rising from beneath the ruin on the opposite spire dwarfed even the palace upon which she knelt. She saw her full reflection in the pupil of its amber eye as the beast passed her. As another and another followed the first and circled above the gate, she knew that it was time.

She slowly rose to her feet and spread her arms wide. The first dragon whipped around, attracted by the movement, it’s fearsome jaws widening in the feral grin of the predator. She clenched her jaw, forcing down the panic threatening to overwhelm her, and tilted her chin with determined focus. This time she was aware. This time she was in control.

A heat bubbled through her like magma rising to the mouth of a volcano, ripping a scream from her tortured throat. But it was no scream as it escaped powerful jaws in a stream of liquid fire. She spread black wings that hid the fire of the sunset and rose into the air with a force that crumbled the parapet upon which she had stood.

The dragons echoed her roar, circling warily. The first of them emitted his own fire, almost white in its heat. Her challenge was accepted; she only hoped she was strong enough to win. If she wasn’t… but there was no more time for hoping.