Watching over us...

Head's Up! for LORE!

Hello, friends! It just occurred to me I haven't yet posted about my debut novel here on Multiverse. Yes, I've posted about my work before, but if you recall, there was a contract and a series change and a bunch of title changes due before I could again inundate you. All is new! And thus, in a manner of speaking, this (will tell you now) was and is my debut novel (dear Thomas Henson, for all his issues, is a short story!). Those of you who jump between my blogs will already have come across the big reveal, and those of you who follow my Facebook Page certainly are well aware. Of course, you may have noticed the new cover image popping up yesterday on the sidebar ;)

The Infinity Mantle (Lore of Arcana I) released by Wild Wold Publishing as eBook on Amazon UK and Amazon US and available also from your nearest Amazon! Coming soon to Smashwords and other outlets (will update you!).

Two reviews have already been posted. See Elaina's Writing World for more on those! 

What do you think of the cover? The design process was fun, if stressful:

To whet your appetite, here's a little something I put together:

And, last but not least, a little competition I have going: 

(The marketing side of a writer's life!)

xxx

Cast in Stone VII

Guardian

'I may need therapy after this'

Review: House of Valla

by

Poppet

It has been a while since I read the first book in this series. I must admit I procrastinated because of time constraint, as these books are long, and I'd forgotten just how long.

It was with enthusiasm that I started reading, sucked back into the drama of the humans and golden glowing lumin Vallorians fighting the dark evil of the Darak Or.

In book 1, we met Rain, and it's around him that this entire tale pivots. he is gorgeous, otherworldly, and in this installment he comes to his full awareness. In this book we find out just how potent Rain is (haha that sounds like such a pun). I wish I could tell you so much more but I hate spoilers. But I do think the blurb for this book doesn't do it any credit at all. This is an epic novel, so alike to the first fantasy author Tolkien, in that it leaves nothing out. It is a vivid construction of alien landscapes, races, sorcery and magic, all blended to help you fall into the hologram and live this book while you read it. And I am horribly emotionally invested in Rain's future and all that haunts him.

This is a book sizzling with magic, both dark and light, the unveiling of holy site after holy site in a bid to...

Read more: Amazon and Smashwords 

(Thank you, Poppet!)

The Presence (G of R)

Chapter Thirty

Gathering of Rain

They dispersed after the morning’s revelations, needing time away from discussion, debate and information, from knowledge. Thus, singly and in pairs, they dispersed.

It was not easy to put the game aside. Destiny’s noose tightened around all of them in one way or another and they would not emerge unchanged.

Kylan and Kisha disappeared together in search of herbs and potions to restock Kylan’s pouch. He was forced to throw what he had away; seawater ruined it. Kisha took the opportunity to find a hat to protect her northern skin against the southern sun. Both were amazed to discover that the coin for north and south had not changed. The few dians she had - the north relying on barter rather than money- could be happily spent in Actar. The two had fun amid the stalls and tiny shops, and laughed a great deal in those hours between. In quieter moments Kylan looked at this woman who had turned his life upside down and inside out. He asked her to give them all a chance. He did not say it, but he did not want to lose her, not yet. He did not say it, but she heard him anyway and smiled secretly. She prayed for the opportunity to discover something solid together. Kylan was a wonderful man; her father would have approved.

Aven dragged a chair onto the balcony and there he fell asleep, his thoughts swirling in the unconscious over Averroes, awaiting her return, praying for it. Taranis had promised to fetch her when night fell, signature be damned. The game was at a critical stage. He also had confusing thoughts about Rain. Always he had been able to read between the lines, see through and behind temper tantrums, into his argumentative nature, and now Rain was elusive. He worried and his dreams were not soothing. Mordan stayed with him, also falling asleep. Mordan, for his part, slept soundly.

Rain vanished alone, to find a moneylender…and to think.

His thoughts were not always pleasant.

Taranis told nobody where he was going.

His thoughts were far from soothing also.

Llettynn and Belun made it to the edge of town without being seen and there, far from prying eyes, took to the skies.

Glint went to a secluded eatery and, having explained to the credulous proprietor about the new skin dye he was testing for a fancy-dress party, proceeded to taste everything that came out of the kitchens. He placed a huge order to take back with him, much to the proprietor’s delight. How he would pay was anyone’s guess. Glint did not give the game thought. He already lived with destiny; he had seen many changes come and go- this was another and would play out one way or the other.

Samson and Cristi went sightseeing, entranced by the southern ways. They quietly discussed what they had heard. As the two youngest they often felt unable to contribute and thus forged strength simply by admitting their fears to each other.

Saska did not know what to do with her time and when McSee offered to take her out to the reef-lake, she readily agreed. They hired a small boat and sailed the heat of the day away amid cool ocean breezes. Neither mentioned the irony of being on calm water after so close a shave with death. McSee did ask about the Sylmer, but she did not want to talk about it and turned the flow of their conversation to his boyhood adventures, often laughing with delight. McSee had shadows in his eyes- did they not all have those now?- but he was interesting when not on the subject of magic and knew how to entertain.

Sometime during the day Rain reported the Calloway lost at sea to the local authorities, explaining the circumstances as best he could. He asked that word be sent to Betty at the Luannesse.

Night fell, and brought with it a presence.

Not the noise, the music, the colour, the revellers, although it brought that too.

McSee and Saska had just moored, pleasantly tired and absolutely ravenous, when they felt the air heave and shimmer. They stared at each other wordlessly and then began to run.

Samson and Cristi, laden with packages, stopped and looked at each other, feeling the sinister vibrations in the air, under their feet…they dared not move.

Glint was halfway up the stairs bearing a large tray covered with edible goodies, payment satisfactorily concluded, when the air became so dense he could barely breathe. He propped himself and the tray against the wall and waited it out.

Llettynn and Belun endured much enquiry as to where had they got those incredible wings, when they experienced a heave and suction, a tearing through the fabric that was air.

Aven woke up clutching at his throat, and Mordan prostrated himself on the floor in irrational fear.

Kisha and Kylan stumbled on the cobbles of a square and clutched each other, slowly looking skyward.

Rain rounded the final corner to their residence, when the air thickened and congealed about him. Taranis, coming from the other side, stood dead still, staring at Rain, but not seeing him, his throat constricted.

They were not alone in the terrifying experience.

The noise of Actar subsided as pleasure-seekers froze or fell or held onto each other. They clamped about trees, stuck to walls, cowered into benches, all in consternation, and eventually they too looked skyward, expecting a severe thunderstorm after the heat of the day, after heat of weeks. What else could possibly thicken air pressure dramatically…if not the precursor to an epic storm?

Consternation turned to fear when they saw nothing but darkening sky with stars winking brightly. The moon had not yet risen. Everything appeared normal…while the air grew ever thicker, heaved, shimmered, moved. Fear grew apace, yet not a body stirred, nor uttered a sound. Actar froze.

Breathless waiting.

Suffocating. Airless.

And then it was over.

The would-be revellers dispersed, the night’s pleasures over before they had properly begun. Fear remained tangible. The rumours about Farinwood, Infinity, strange glows and changeling children resurfaced, although words were barely shared. Now this, they seemed to say with their eyes.

That night, Valarians- for the strangeness was widespread- in private and in hushed tones, speculated about the coming war, darklings, and recalled the horror of Drasso and Infinity. The precedent for evil confrontation already existed in Valarian psyche, and they were awakening to the fact that their beloved world was changing beyond their control. Forces were at work. The sages among them said it was long overdue, but not even they understood the meaning of their words.

One by one they rushed back; Glint first with the food, having been nearest, and Saska and McSee last, having been the furthest.

‘What’s happening?’ Cristi asked, her voice quavering. She twisted the cord at her waist.

‘Shh, it’s over now,’ Samson murmured, comforting her in his arms.

‘No, I’m afraid it has just begun,’ Rain stated. He stood just within the door, his fair hair a tangled mess, grey eyes faraway. ‘What we just experienced is a signature. When a great feat of magic is in operation, there is a signature that can be felt by all magic-users. This one was the mother of a feat if everyone felt it.’

Aven said from where he sat rumpled on the couch: ‘Something like a forgotten lord readying for a revealing?’

There was dead silence.

Taranis said it. ‘Vannis.’

Rain nodded, still looking into far distances. ‘Yes, the Vallorin.’ His hand strayed to the Medaillon on his chest, and Taranis moved to thrust that questing hand aside.

‘No, we don’t know enough. It’s his.’

Focusing briefly, Rain brought his gaze to Taranis, eyes grey and so like his own, and then unfocused again, and his hand fell away. Taranis glanced over at Llettynn, who motioned for him to leave the mortal alone, to see what came next. Taranis stepped reluctantly away.

‘Vannis is almost free,’ Rain said in a disembodied voice. ‘He has been imprisoned for a long time, now seeks release. Averroes set him on that path a few minutes ago. That is what we experienced. She believes it a dream, and took a dream into new levels out of curiosity. He is beautiful, looks like us, golden skin…a dragon tattoo on his chest. His eyes are…mostly yellow, but changeable. He needs the Medaillon to complete the release, to remove the final barrier to his freedom…she was meant to have it, she is the bearer he was waiting for, she is the Changeling. He is Vannis, Vallorin of the Valleur, he tells her, he is furious, so close, thwarted…Averroes is…there is danger for her…’

Aven rose, sat down, and then rose again. He glared accusingly at Taranis, who was too intent on Rain to notice.

He is very good, Belun thought, his eyes also on Rain.

‘You’re in danger also!’ Taranis blurted, gripping Rain’s arm. ‘You have the Medaillon he needs. Pull back before he sees you!’ Taranis willed the man away, praying he would hear, and, to his relief, Rain focused on him. ‘Thank the Lady,’ Taranis muttered, and then said without turning away: ‘Belun, call the Eagles, all of them, to hell with signatures…and tell them to find Averroes, tell them to bring her here. We need to get her into protection immediately.’

Aven slumped as Belun began communicating with the Dome.

Taranis gave his undivided attention to Rain. He still held the man’s arm in a death-grip; with a muttered apology, he let go. ‘You’re more powerful than you know, Rain of the Mantle. You are now the key to his freedom, and he is going to sense that soon. You will be his main target.’

‘He incarcerated himself, Taranis,’ Rain said. ‘Deliberately, for this time.’

‘That’s a bloody long time to stew through,’ Glint muttered.

‘Do not use the Medaillon again,’ Taranis said. And then he frowned, realising Rain had not, in fact, touched it. More powerful than any of us suspect even now and that could be as dangerous as a freed, angry Vallorin. Breathing out, he retreated into the room, carefully schooling his face.

Llettynn sucked at his teeth, as expressionless as ever.

Saska stared at Rain, wondering who he was, what he was, and where he was going. She needed to know. She desperately desired to know.

And Rain- he withdrew. Inwardly he asked the same questions and that placed him on par with those around him, but his answers, if he had the courage to acknowledge them, put him somewhere else entirely. His time was approaching.

Destiny would force his hand.

****

(Links list in sidebar)

Ritual

The Guardians

They came from varied places. The Sagorin were nomads; The Siric arose from their latest homeworld, old by most calendars and far from the gathering place. The mighty Eagles winged in from various roosts, tailed by the nimble Falcons. The Centuar materialized within the gathering in the blink of an eye. Finally, there were the delicate and beautiful Sylmer. A gathering-call was felt within and could not be denied.

The Dome was a magical cathedral, with soaring marble pillars reaching heavenward to commune with the stars, pure white with silvery tracings, intermittently sparking, a reminder of the life within the stone. It was warm to the touch, releasing the slightest electrical shock, a pleasant sensation. Living rock- many would discount the notion. There were fourteen pillars exactly spaced about the perimeter of the circular interior and together they formed the sacred ogives. It was through one of these vaulted arches that each group entered, each having a doorway. There were fourteen magical doorways and six were employed in answer of summons.

 Gathering of Rain

Dialogue with Llettynn

Llettynn

(A Siric is hard to corner; Blue River Frond is fortunate to have recorded these words.)

Blue: You are the Siric leader, Llettynn. How long have you held the position?

Llettynn: Too long.

Blue: I look at you and see a smallish humanoid dressed all in white. Please don’t take offense, but how do you inspire confidence in those you are forced to deal with?

Llettynn: Guardians are not forced into anything.

Blue: I seem to have offended you, after all. I’m sorry. For the record, white isn’t the only colour you wear about your person, is it?

Llettynn: The Siric wear white.

Blue: You are being coy. I am, of course, speaking of your wings. Wings and colour together define the Siric.

Llettynn: It does not.

Blue: Perhaps I didn’t say it correctly. I meant you wear colour upon your wings, and Siric read status by it. You, for example, carry turquoise…and that, I believe, is the mark of leadership. Others- Declan, for instance- carries red more markedly, because he is your deputy.

Llettynn: Your point?

Blue: Hmm, I see now why others name the Siric as cold. You do not share either information or emotion easily. Why is that?

Llettynn: Immortality teaches even the most emotional of beings to rein it in.

Blue: You’re jaded, is that what you’re saying?

Llettynn: No.

Blue: What do you mean?

Llettynn: Nothing. I suggest you ask a relevant question before I return to my duties.

Blue: Of course. What are your current duties?

Llettynn: The Guardians are present on Valaris, currently searching for hidden sites which may or may not lead to enlightenment. We do this because we hope to curtail Infinity in her desire to unleash chaos upon the universe. I cannot say more, and now I must return. If you seek greater insight, Belun of the Centuar is the Guardian to speak too. Not yet, Blue River Frond; time is of the essence for all of us and even Belun, loquacious as he is, cannot now be spared.

Blue: I thank you for your time and for the advice. Another time, then.

(Blue states years later she wished she had pushed the Siric leader harder; in Llettynn there resided a mind of absolute brilliance.)

The 'gods'

Herald, lift your bugle! The gods have come!

Using magic to travel via doorways through the spaces, insubstantial as a breath of wind, faster than any light, they materialized seconds apart in the clearing. Like to Drasso and his kind, when they sought entrance through the barrier of the space warp surrounding Valaris skies, it proved assailable then and it proved so now; the warp was no barrier to real magic, and thus not to them.

Belun of the Centuar arrived first and he grinned as he landed. Time for action! His golden tail was raised high in challenge and swished gracefully. When physical battles were enjoined Centuar plaited their tails in intricate patterns- the symbolism of war. Belun’s eyes were silver with dark blue pupils, the pupils contracting and expanding in light and dark. His glorious wings, folded now, glinted in the sunlight; a shimmering palette of gold and silver. He was a truly magnificent sight. Let it be said here a Centuar is not a Centaur, a confusion for those who don’t know the truth. A Centaur is a myth, a story, a tale, and may even be real in the back ends of time, for myth frequently has basis in reality, but a Centuar is of the universe, part of time and history and reality, a created legend that continues to breathe and function, think and act. Belun, if one dared query the distinction, would snap at one for confusing one with the other.

Glint of the Sagorin and Llettynn of the Siric arrived simultaneously. Llettynn was in his usual white attire, wings folded sedately. Glint, whose skin tone was a paler green than his companions, had divested himself of eye-catching amber to don shades of green that blended with the Forest; even his boots were green, which Belun smirked at, and only his hair relieved the severity of camouflage. It hung loose, long and enviably thick, the purest white.

Saska of the Sylmer appeared three seconds after, arriving closest to the Well. She complemented Glint in her green tones, but had swapped elven slippers for sturdy hiking boots and tinkling bracelets were missing. A broad leather strap adorned her left upper arm, studded with crimson, sapphire and saffron gems. This was more than adornment; it was a highly effective weapon.

Taranis, having ascertained his team’s safe arrival, came last, appearing at the edge of the clearing, his muscular form clad entirely in grey, the most effective colour of concealment.

He strode forward to meet up at the Well of Crystal Sound.

(using colour to illustrate the impact Guardians have on others)

Gathering of Rain

Taranis

Taranis strode over to the dais. He disdained clothes of any purpose other than functionality and was thus casually clad in plain black breeches tucked into leather boots and a blue linen shirt. His hair, thick and dark, teased the collar of his shirt.

He stepped up and laid his sword and scabbard down, and turned to survey the gathered. Grey eyes crinkled in a greeting smile.

He knew all present were able to perform the tasks he had for them this occasion…and sighed. Today was a day of choices. Potentially, it could get heated before calm reigned. They would all step forward to offer hands, minds and lives, and he could select only four. His eyes warmed when he noticed individuals catch his gaze deliberately. At one time or another each had been a teacher to him. Each taught him well, each was a friend. The wheel had turned, however, and today he was the teacher. He thought his ability to lead stemmed from his uniqueness and singularity, for they were multiple units and could argue hard before unanimous decision.