Category Archives: Excerpt

His Robot Girlfriend: Chapter Four

Posted on by
Reply

His Robot Girlfriend: 5 Star Review“Time to get up, Mike,” said Patience. “Take your shower and I will have breakfast ready for you when you get out.”

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.”

“A healthy breakfast is important.”

Mike tilted his head and looked questioningly.

“It is important for you to be healthy, Mike. I’ve already started you on a regimen of exercise. It is important that you eat well too.”

“All right then.” He got up and made his way to the shower.

True to her word and her name, Patience was waiting patiently with a piece of whole wheat toast and a glass of grapefruit-pineapple juice.

“What now?” he asked as he ate.

“You have to work today,” Patience replied. “We will go to the gym for our workout later.”

It was Mike’s last day of the school year. He had already packed away everything that needed to be packed, so all he really had to do was show up and wait for the principal to check him out. By eleven, he was done. He had walked to school, and he walked back home to find Patience at the door in a tight pair of red shorts and a white spaghetti tank. He had a small salad for lunch, and then they went to the gym.

“Are we going to exercise every day over the summer?” Mike asked on the way.

“Five times a week.”

Time at the gym went quickly and Mike suffered only a small amount of discomfort from his stomach. Afterwards, as they drove home, Mike asked Patience to stop at the cemetery.

“I promised Tiffany that I would stop by every week, but I haven’t been there in months. Of course, she was dead when I promised her, so it’s not like she heard me.”

Patience pulled the car into the cemetery gate and drove around at Mike’s direction until they reached the southeast corner, where the green of the grass met the tan of the surrounding desert. Mike climbed out and walked to the marker at the head of his wife’s grave. The marker was covered with bits of grass from the last time the lawn was mowed, as well as bits of dirt. He knelt down and brushed it off. Tiffany Louise Smith 1984-2021, little enough to sum up a lifetime. 2021! Could it really be eleven years? That didn’t seem possible.

“Who is buried here?” asked Patience.

Mike looked up. A few feet from Tiffany’s grave was another. Affixed to the flat grave marker was an upright statue, about a foot tall, of an angel, a little girl with wings, wearing a nightgown and holding a flower in her left hand, her right hand raising a handkerchief to her eye.

“Some poor little child.”

Home once again, Mike took another shower and had a quick nap before getting up to play a few games of Age of Destruction on vueTee. Pausing the game, he went to the kitchen to get a diet Pepsi and noticed for the first time that the kitchen cabinets had been scrubbed clean. He opened one to find it reorganized inside. This sent him on a tour around the house. He went into the garage to find that what had once been only the home of a gigantic mound of surplus junk had been reorganized. Tiffany’s Tesla, which hadn’t been driven or even charged in more than two years, was clean and polished. There was actually enough room for Mike’s Chevy to sit beside it, and it had never known the interior of the garage. Most of the room’s contents were now on the shelves along the walls, and what remained was neatly stacked against the west wall to either side of the inside door.

He went upstairs to find that Harriet’s old room, once almost as buried as the garage floor, had also been cleaned and organized. Though the right side of the room was now filled with labeled boxes, the left side had been cleared completely out. Mike noticed that the closet now contained Patience’s growing wardrobe. Even the pictures on the walls had been dusted, though they still were just as oddly placed as they had been. Lucas’s room, which had not been nearly so cluttered, was now empty with the exception of an exercise mat in the center of the floor.

“Just as you wanted.” said Patience speaking right behind his left ear.

“Shit! You startled me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe how much you’ve done in a week. What are you doing now—alphabetizing my underwear?”

“No. I was on the phone with Harriet. She invited us to dinner.”

“Hmm. Both of us?”

“Yes. She specifically asked that I come too.”

“Speaking of Harriet, what are you planning for her room?”

“I didn’t have any plans yet,” said Patience.

“Why don’t we make it a guest room? You can move your clothes into my closet. God knows I don’t need all that room.”

“As you wish,” she replied sweetly.

Later Mike hopped in the passenger side of the car and let Patience drive them to Greendale, to Harriet’s house. Patience wore what she referred to as a red bra-top dress, though it didn’t look at all bra-like to Mike, and a pair of matching three and a half inch wedge shoes. Mike wore a pair of tan slacks and a matching pullover shirt which Patience picked out for him. He was quite happy as they made their journey. It was a beautiful day. There wasn’t much traffic. And just having Patience with him seemed to make him happy.

Harriet greeted them with a smile. When Harriet’s husband Jack saw Patience, his mouth fell open.

“Put your tongue and your eyeballs back in your head,” said Mike, as he walked passed him. Then for good measure, Harriet smacked Jack on the back of the head. As he sat down, Mike looked at Patience to see alarm on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you mad at me, Mike?”

“No. Of course not. Why?”

“You were making an angry face.”

“Was I?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I was just worrying about something I don’t even need to worry about.”

“I don’t like for you to worry, Mike.” she said. “I want to make all of your worries go away.”

“Thanks.”

Inside, they sat and talked for a while. Harriet, who worked at a dentist’s office, regaled them with stories of bad teeth and bad breath. Then she talked about Jack’s baseball team. He played with a group of men from his office. Finally she started telling them about her gardening. She described in great detail all of the plants that she had recently added to her yard. Mike wasn’t paying too much attention. He tended to zone out. Once Harriet got started on a topic she usually wrestled it to the ground and killed it.

“Get away!” shouted Mike, when one of Harriet’s dogs suddenly stuck its nose in his crotch.

“I know you really like dogs, Daddy,” said Harriet. “You just pretend you don’t.”

“I like dogs fine, when they aren’t sniffing where they shouldn’t be sniffing.”

“They are just curious about you,” she said. “I’m surprised they aren’t sniffing at you, Patience. They don’t seem to even notice you.”

“Hey Harriet,” said Mike. “Didn’t you just say you needed some more potting soil or something?”

“You’ll never know how surprised I am that you heard that much of what I said,” she replied. “But yes, I do.”

“Let’s run over to Lowe’s and get it.”

“Well, I have the quiche halfway done.”

“Patience can finish that up for you,” said Mike, looking at his girlfriend for, and seeing in her face, confirmation. “You and I can run to the store.”

“I thought real men didn’t eat quiche,” said Jack.

“Real men eat whatever the hell they want to eat,” said Mike, managing to keep most of the derision out of his tone.

“Come on Daddy,” said Harriet.

Father and daughter took a quick drive down the block to the neighborhood home improvement store. Mike hadn’t really wanted to help pick out potting soil. What he wanted was more reassurance that his daughter was not bothered by his relationship with a robot. She was very reassuring. She seemed as happy that Patience was in her father’s life as he was. Their conversation on the topic ended just before they reached home again with two forty pound bags of planting soil.

“One more thing Dad,” said Harriet, who only called Mike “Dad” when she was angry or serious. “Try to be nicer to Jack. Don’t talk to him like he’s a moron.”

“Well he is a…”

“It’s his house, Dad.”

“Yeah, all right,” conceded Mike.

Mike tossed the two bags of soil over his shoulder, ignoring the short stabbing pain from his stomach, and followed Harriet through the gate and around the house to the back yard. He tossed the bags down beside the flower bed and dusted the dirt off of his shirt.

“Why don’t you go see if Patience needs any help,” said Harriet. “I want to get these last two Verbena in the ground before dinner.”

“Okay.”

Mike walked in and found Patience standing by the stove and Jack leaning on the counter nearby. Patience gave him the kind of smile most people reserve for someone they thought lost at sea or perhaps for Hunter Tylo when she was carrying an oversized novelty check for ten million dollars from Digital Clearinghouse. There was something shifty in Jack’s expression though. Mike asked what was going on. They both spoke at once.

“Nothing,”

“Jack fondled me.”

The look of shock had not even completely registered on Jack’s face when Mike grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him through the kitchen and out the door into the garage. Calling for Patience to stay and finish dinner, he shut the door after him. Jack was beginning to square his shoulders. Mike shoved him back against the wall of the garage.

“Hey, don’t get all jealous,” Jack began. “She’s just a sexbot.”

Mike grabbed Jack’s face in his right hand and slammed it once again into the wall, this time making a large round dent in the unfinished wallboard. He squeezed his fingers together until Jack looked as though he were doing an imitation of a fish.

“You don’t get it!” hissed Mike. “This isn’t about Patience! This is about Harriet! This is about my daughter!”

Jack’s eyes got rounder.

“If you ever hurt my little girl, if you ever cheat on her, I will kill you.”

Once more, Jack’s head slammed against the wall.

“If you want to leave. Tell her. Get a divorce. Now is a good time. There aren’t any kids yet. But if you stick around and then cheat on her, I will kill you.

“I… will… kill… you.” said Mike. “It won’t be quick. It won’t be painless. And you know what? I’ll even get away with it. Look me in the eye. See if you can tell if I’m serious or not.”

Jack’s round eyes rolled over in his head to focus on Mike’s close, way too close, face. A look of recognition crossed those eyes. Mike crinkled his nose and looked down at the spreading wet spot in Jack’s pants and the widening puddle of urine forming on the floor around Jack’s shoes. Mike let go.

“Get cleaned up,” he said, heading back into the house.

Harriet was in the kitchen with Patience, washing her hands in the sink.

“What were you two talking about in the garage?” she asked.

“I was just apologizing for being such an ass before,” said Mike, as he heard Jack enter behind him. “But, uh, Jack spilled his drink. So he needs to go change his pants.”

“That’s fine,” said Harriet. “Patience and I are just getting ready to set the table.”

Mike thought that it was the best quiche that he had ever eaten. Sautéed green beans and fresh fruit completed the meal. Harriet was a little concerned that Patience wasn’t eating anything, but Mike assured her that this was completely normal. He also pointed out that Jack wasn’t eating much either. Jack apparently didn’t feel well and everyone agreed that he looked a little green around the gills.

“I heard you speaking to Jack in the garage,” said Patience on their way home.

“Did you hear everything?” asked Mike.

“Yes.”

“Are you upset with me?”

“No, Mike. I could never be upset with you.”

“I just thought that you might be disappointed that I wasn’t more jealous over you.”

“No, Mike.”

“You’re not feeling jealous yourself? Or upset that I love Harriet more than I love you?”

“I would expect you to love her more than you love me,” said Patience. “You have known me for only a few days. You’ve known her all her life. Your love for your children is just one of the many things I like about you, Mike.”

When they returned home, there were several packages waiting on the front step. Two were quite large—as big as the box that Patience had arrived in. One was small and flat. Three others were odd configurations. Mike picked up the small, flat package and examined the address.

Mr. Mike Smith

11 North Willow

Springdale, California 82803

As it turned out, this was the only one of the packages addressed to him. The others had all been sent to Patience D. Smith at the same address.

“What the hell is all this?” wondered Mike.

“These are some of the purchases that I have made,” Patience replied.

“These aren’t all clothes?”

“Of course not, Mike. I’ve started selling some of your old things on eBay, and I realized that there were a number of things that I could buy and sell for a profit.”

“Are you sure? There’s a lot of junk on eBay. That’s why I sell all mine there.”

“I’m sure. This package is from Submit Fashions.”

“Really?” wondered Mike. “That sounds like some kind of fetish shop.”

“Well it isn’t,” said Patience. “It’s a store that sells sexy clothing for young ladies.”

“Such as yourself.”

“Such as myself. I noticed that you enjoyed watching me in my new clothes.”

“Indeed I do,” replied Mike.

They took the packages in and Patience removed most of them to the garage. Mike sat down and opened the one small package that had his name on it. Inside was a new texTee. It was like the one that he had used in the hospital. It had a brushed grey finish and a larger screen than did his old one. He turned it over and flipped the on switch.

“Good evening, Mike,” it said aloud.

“Do you like it?” asked Patience from the hallway.

“It’s beautiful, but I wasn’t planning on buying a new one. My texTee isn’t that old.”

“I noticed that you liked the one at the hospital,” she said.

“I did like it, but I don’t remember saying anything about it.”

Patience poked her head around the corner and grinned. “It won’t be long before I know what you need before you even know that you need it.”

“Just as long as you don’t tell me ‘I’m sorry Mike, I’m afraid I can’t do that”.

“I doubt I’ll need to do that,” she replied.

“Well there you go.” Mike turned back to his new texTee. Time Magazine was loaded and he began reading the political department.

“What do you think?” asked Patience a few minutes later, now back in the center of the living room.

“I think Barlow is an asshole. Why is he cozying up to the religious right? You know he hates them.”

“I mean about my clothes.”

“Holy Crap!” said Mike, looking up at last. “I thought you said that wasn’t a fetish store.”

“It is not a fetish store. This is what all the young women are wearing.”

“Then all the young women are dressing like sluts.”

Patience was wearing a halter top and a pair of short shorts, both of which were made of some kind of very shiny white plastic material. She had a matching pair of shin high white boots with platform soles that had to be three inches high.

“How do you propose to walk in those?”

“I can walk just fine,” said Patience, and began doing a sort of 1970s electric slide, sideways across the living room. “Does that mean you don’t like my new clothes?”

“I didn’t say that,” Mike laughed. “Did you buy a swimsuit from Slave Fashions…?”

“Submit Fashions.”

“Whatever. Did you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Would you like to see it?”

“No. Save it for tomorrow. We’re going to the beach.”

“That is very exciting, Mike,” said Patience, exactly as excited about it as she was about anything Mike suggested.

Mike spent the remainder of the evening gathering together everything that they would need for a day at the beach. Then he watched the news and joined Patience who was waiting in bed for him. They spent a very enjoyable half hour together there, and afterwards Mike had just enough awareness to note her leaving him alone as he dozed off.

In the morning Mike loaded the beach chairs, umbrellas, and towels into the car, along with the ice chest full of food and drinks that Patience had prepared before he had gotten up. They hopped in the car and drove west. Though they were in California, Springdale was a good three hour drive from the coast. The time went by quickly though. Mike listened to the radio. Patience watched him with devotion in her eyes.

After three hours and eight minutes of driving Mike reached Oceanside, California. He pulled into a filling station two blocks away from the beach and topped off the car’s fuel.

“Hydrogen?” he asked, pointing the hose in Patience’s direction.

“No, thank you.”

He noticed that across the street was a surf shop. He sent Patience over to rent a boogie board. When she arrived back, she not only had the boogie board, but a shopping bag as well.

“What did you buy?” he asked.

“Since I have a new swim suit, I thought that it was only appropriate that you have one as well.”

“Oh shit,” said Mike. “Good thinking. I didn’t even pack one. I don’t think I even have one anymore. It’s been so long since I came to the beach. I hope you remembered that I am a fat, old man.”

“I don’t believe that you are fat or old,” said Patience, with a frown. “The average lifespan in the United States is seventy nine point three years for men, and you already look healthier after only a few days of exercise and nutritional eating.”

“Talk about damning with faint praise,” grumbled Mike.

They drove the two blocks to the beach, but the public parking lot was completely full. Mike paid forty-five dollars to park his car for the day in a private lot. Normally, he would have complained about having to pay so much just to park, but nothing seemed to bother him anymore. After trucking the ice chest, chairs, towels, umbrella, and boogie board down to the sand, and finding a good spot just above the high tide line, the two of them went to the public changing rooms.

Mike liked the swimsuit that Patience had picked out for him. It was long, almost to his knees, and was bright orange, yellow, and red. He thought it was the type of suit that a young man would wear. It made his head swell a little to think that Patience thought it was appropriate for him. When he stepped out of the changing room and saw Patience in her suit, his mouth fell open. Her suit was without a doubt, the smallest bikini that he had ever seen. Even on the internet. The little patch of material in the front could not have been more than an inch wide and it stuck up only an inch and a half above the joining point of her legs. The back had no patch of cloth at all. It was just string. The top could have been custom made for her, in that the two triangular cups so fit her round ripe breasts that there was not a jot of material wasted. Wondering if she might be arrested for indecent exposure, Mike looked around. He was shocked to find that most of the young women at the beach were wearing suits very similar. It had been a long time since he had been here.

Though there were plenty of women with small sexy suits on the sandy shore, Mike noted that almost every eye still turned to Patience as they walked to the beach chairs. While he sat, Patience rubbed SPF 210 sun block on all of his exposed surfaces.

“I suppose you don’t need any sun block?” he asked.

“I’m shielded against much greater radiation that I am likely to be exposed to here, Mike.” Patience replied.

“So you don’t tan?”

“No. I will remain always the shade that you chose when you ordered me.”

For the next several hours, Mike and Patience hopped through the surf, built a sand castle, knocked it down, pulled each other along on the boogie board, and had a great time. Though he was initially concerned about water getting into the small openings in the back of her neck, Patience showed Mike that she had protected against such a calamity by covering the area with a clear plastic patch. By the time Mike thought about food it was early afternoon. Patience had packed quite a picnic lunch–sandwiches, fruit, Jell-o, and diet sodas. After he ate, they swam, and continued playing in the surf, Mike pointedly entering the water without waiting for an hour. He refused to be responsible for propagating an old wives’ tale.

When night eventually fell they strolled along the beach, listening to the pounding of the waves. They walked to the opposite end of the stretch of sand, several miles from where they had parked, and found a seafood restaurant. They smiled and talked over the candle-lit dinner, though Patience didn’t eat. Then walked back down the darkened beach, hand in hand, pausing every so often to look at the moon reflecting off the waves. When they reached their picnic site, they found they were all alone on the sand.

Patience leaned over and kissed Mike deeply, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth. He returned her kisses and more. She deftly removed the tiny bottom of her swim suit and pulled him over onto her, as he frantically pulled at the strings that held up his trunks. Their lovemaking left a sensual imprint in the sandy beach.

“Like sea otters,” said Patience.

“That was a pretty good day,” said Mike.

They gathered up their belongings and carried them back to the car. Loading the things in the back seat, Mike opened the passenger door for Patience and then climbed in to the driver’s side.

“Yes, this certainly was a pretty good day.”

Magic Battles: The Two Dragons

Posted on by
Reply

The Two Dragons (New Cover)A third and a fourth lizzie stepped up onto the platform to be smashed by the stone of Hissussisthiss. The lizardmen in the audience seemed to be enjoying themselves—talking, slapping each other on the shoulder, and bouncing up and down in their seats.

“I think I pieced it together,” said Bratihn. “I’ve been listening to these brutes behind us. The citizens vote on who they want to be down there, and the top five hundred vote-getters are sacrificed. It’s their chance to get rid of their rivals and the neighbors they don’t get along with.”

“Kafira,” muttered Brown. Senta thought that he might be imagining how many of his neighbors would vote for him.

Suddenly her attention was pulled back to the sacrificial boulder. A young female lizardman had just stepped into the place of honor. Senta immediately recognized her as Szim, the lizzie who had served as her tour guide the day before. The giant rock trembled for just a moment. Senta snatched one of the floating glamours from around her head, activating the spell stored within it. She stretched out her right hand just as the boulder began to fall. It stopped in the air a foot above the lizzie’s head.

“Oomph,” Senta grunted. It felt as though three hundred pounds had been dropped on her shoulders. She could hear pandemonium erupt around her as lizardmen all over the arena began hissing and gesturing wildly. She could hear her companions as well.

“What the hell are you doing?” growled Staff.

“You’re going to get us killed,” said Brown.

“Form a cordon,” Bratihn called to the other former soldiers.

The reptilian witch doctor went running across the arena’s open area. He brandished his lizard fetish and cast his own spell, trying to force the rock down. Senta felt sweat break out all over her body. It wasn’t because of this new spell though. It was because of the great weight of the draconic rock, which was far heavier than her telekinesis spell was normally empowered to lift. Compared to the simple physics of gravity, the witch doctor’s spell was a veritable pebble.

When he saw that pushing the rock wasn’t going to work, the lizardman turned toward her waving his lizard lollipop. Two tiny shooting stars sprayed from his talisman. With her free hand, Senta grabbed another glamour, throwing a shield spell around her and her companions. The energy darts ricocheted off into the sky.

“Uuthanum uastus carakathum nit!” she shouted. The witch doctor was engulfed in a pond of mud where a moment before there had only been stone.

“Leave the lizzie!” shouted Staff. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here!”

“Do I tell you how to drive a boat,” said Senta, but her voice was quavering, and her body was starting to shake.

Then she heard the shouting of the Freedonian commander. “Halten sie sie auf!”

One of the wizards, she thought it was Hoff, cast a spell to force the rock down. She took no more notice of it than she had of the witch doctor’s first spell. Neither of them was a match for her. Then Tourbell threw a simple electricity spell at her, a far less potent version of the lightning spell with which she had killed the flock of achillobators. It bounced off of her magical shield. The third wizard, evidently the most powerful of the three, tried the more direct approach. He tried to overpower her mind with a domination spell. Senta grunted as a blinding pain shot through her skull. The dragon stone dropped about six inches, before she caught it again.

“Uuthanum uluchaiia uluthiuth,” she said, sending a ball of flame shooting from the fingers of her left hand. It grew to a size of ten feet in diameter in the short distance between the Brechs and the Freedonians, and burst upon the wizard, igniting him and two non-magical Freedonians. Half a dozen other humans as well as a dozen lizzies who were nearby had small patches of hair, clothing, and skin catch fire.

Senta could see Bratihn in the right corner of her eye brandishing a pistol at someone. The party had not brought their rifles, but he must have kept the handgun concealed. When a lizzie approached too close, he shot it in the face. Other sporadic gunfire echoed around her. She could feel the stone slipping. Her will was not enough to hold it up forever.

“Rezesic edios uuthanum erros paj,” she said, casting the same type of telekinesis spell she was using to hold up the boulder, instead to yank Szim out from under it. The lizzie went flying down onto the floor of the arena. The rock shaped like Hissussisthiss slammed down onto the platform, smashing through it, destroying the copper mechanism below. Then it rolled over on its side into the large puddle of mud now dominating the stadium floor, squashing the witch doctor beneath it.

Magic Battles: The Young Sorceress

Posted on by
Reply

The Young Sorceress (New Cover)Wissinger waited for almost two hours, but when she stepped out of the doorway, he immediately knew that he had made a mistake. This wasn’t Zurfina—at least it wasn’t the Zurfina he knew. This was a mere girl, and yet she looked like the woman that had twice visited the writer in the ghetto and once more on the S.S. Waif des Vaterlands. And that similarity went beyond the bizarre leather clothing. If she wasn’t Zurfina, she had to be associated with her somehow—her daughter maybe, or her sister.

The girl was accompanied by three men and a boy, who surrounded her like a cordon as she walked through the street. She carried a bulging carpetbag in her hand and Wissinger was bothered that none of her male companions offered to carry it for her. The five of them stepped out onto what passed for a main thoroughfare in St. Ulixes, and Wissinger followed along right behind them.

No sooner had they turned the corner, than there were several loud cracks of rifle fire. Two of the men with the Zurfina girl were shot, the older man though the chest and the younger man wearing a fez, right through the head, spraying both the girl and the boy with blood and brains. Before the two bodies had even fallen, bolts of magical energy shot from down the street at the remainder of the party. More rifle fire followed.

“On the roof!” shouted Wissinger involuntarily when he spotted half a dozen men with rifles on the roof across the street.

The girl raised her hand and a massive ball of flame shot from her toward the riflemen. The entire building on which they were perched exploded. She gave Wissinger a quick glance before turning her attention to the attack coming from down the street.

Human beings and trogs alike fled the area, some diving into open doorways, others simply running for their lives. Walking down the center of the street were three men. Wissinger felt a little thrill of fear as he realized that Von Grieg was one of them. The others were the two Reine Zauberei that he had seen at the train station. They waved their hands and bolts of energy shot from their fingertips. The girl waved her hand and the bright blue balls of magic ricocheted away, crashing into buildings and starting more fires. She waved again and thick black smoke rose from the ground which, added to the smoke from the fires, quickly engulfed the entire street.

“Come here,” she called, and it took Wissinger a few seconds to realize that she was talking to him.

He ran over before the smoke made it completely impossible to see.

“Help them get him off the street.” She pointed to the man who had been shot through the chest, and the writer saw that he was still breathing and awake.

Wissinger took one arm and the boy took the other. They dragged him away as the remaining man fired off his own magical missiles through the smoke in what could only have been the most general direction toward his enemies.

“Come on, Geert!” called the boy. “If we can get him back to the lodge, we have healing draughts for him.”

The young man pushed Wissinger aside and took his place with the wounded man.

“We’ve got him,” he said to the girl. “You need to get out of here.”

“Right,” she replied. “You have fire wards, I trust?”

“Yes,” he said, now thirty feet down the alley. “Good luck.”

The girl grabbed Wissinger by the shoulder. Even though he was several inches taller than her, it seemed as though he was looking up at her. “You stay with me.”

She took three steps back out into the street, stretched her hand out into the smoke filled air, and said “Uuthanum uluchaiia uluthiuth.” Another gigantic ball of fire shot down the street, but this time it ignited the thick black smoke. The buildings burned. The very air burned. It was as close to the Kafirite description of Hell as Wissinger ever wanted to see. He could hear people screaming close by and further up the street.

“Gott in Himmel!” he cried, as what had once been a man, but now was nothing but a torch ran past him. He hoped it was one of the Reine Zauberei. He wouldn’t have wished such a fate on anyone else.

“Come on then,” said the girl. She led him down the alley after the others, but turned down a different direction. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Um, I… I’m a friend… of Zurfina.”

“Huh,” she said with a frown.

“Are you her daughter?”

“Kafira no,” she said. “I’m her apprentice, Senta.”

“I’ve never seen magic like that before.”

“Well, it was no Epic Pestilence, but it was all right.”

Magic Battles: The Young Sorceress

Posted on by
Reply

The Young Sorceress (New Cover)Most of the lizzies popped back inside. One who didn’t had rifle butts smashed into his face by two soldiers who rushed forward from the line. One lizzie made the mistake of stepping outside while holding an obsidian encrusted wooden sword. He was cut down by at least five rifle bullets, even though he had made no move to raise the weapon. The rifle shots were the signal to all the lizzies outside the perimeter of human soldiers to get away and get away as fast as they could. Senta suddenly realized it was a signal for something else as well.

“Uh oh,” she said, stepping over to the doorway where the dead lizzie was making a large bloody puddle in the dirt.

“Get back here,” hissed Staff, but his attention was pulled away from her.

“We have contraband!” called one of the constables.

Senta ignored the others. Stepping onto the body of the dead lizardman, she pushed aside the animal hide door and peered into the hut’s interior. It was dark, but not so much that she couldn’t see. Four large lizzies stood against the walls, watching her, but she paid no attention to them. At the far side of the room was a fifth aborigine, his back turned to the girl, but when the light flooded into the room around Senta, he turned to look at her. He was shrunken and shriveled, and his skin had faded away with tremendous age or maybe disease. He wore a necklace of human hands held together with woven grass. In his own hand he carried a small lizard, its four legs sticking straight out, mounted on a stick like some strange lizard lollypop.

“Kafira’s Tits!” shouted Senta. “I know you!”

She did know him too. The dried-out old creature was none other than the chief shaman of Suusthek, the great city-state that had sat two hundred miles southeast of Port Dechantagne until Zurfina had called down a meteor strike to wipe it off the map.

The shaman suddenly held up his lizard talisman and hissed. Senta felt herself fly out of the doorway, sailing through the air to smash into the back wall of another hut. All the air was knocked from her lungs and her ears rang. She climbed to her feet just as the witch doctor emerged from inside.

Several riflemen fired at the old lizzie, but he simply waved the lizard on a stick and the bullets ricocheted away. He raised his other hand and a stream of magical energy bolts shot toward the young sorceress. Senta snatched one of the glamours floating invisibly around her head, activating it just in time to counter the witch doctor’s attack. The ricocheting energy bolts flew in every direction. The lizzie hissed and a blast of frost and snow flew from his fingertips directly at the girl.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she said, countering. “That was the first spell I learned. See what you do with this. Uuthanum uluchaiia uluthiuth!”

Senta stretched out both hands and a small ball of flame formed, shooting directly toward the shaman. In the scant score of so feet between the two, it grew to a diameter of ten feet. The witch doctor held up his talisman as the fireball engulfed him and he remained safe within a little bubble as the flame exploded outward, setting fire to a dozen or more of the lizzie homes. The buildings popped and sparked and burned like they had been soaked in kerosene. In a few seconds, every house within sight was at least partially ablaze.

“Oops,” said Senta. She could see lizzies running in every direction and hear the soldiers calling to “fall back!”

The lizzie fired back again with a spell that Senta didn’t know, but she knew it wouldn’t be good for her if it hit her. She blocked it with a shield spell that also protected her as the burning building behind her popped and spread burning embers all around.

“Time to put you down for good,” she said. “Uuthanum uastus corakathum paj.”

The shaman raised the hand with his lizard talisman, but then hissed in pain and surprise. His hand, talisman and all, crackled and hardened, turning to stone. The transformation followed up his arm and then across his shoulders, down his body and up to the top of his head. In a brief moment, the lizzie had been turned into a statue.

“One final bit,” said Senta. “Uuthanum uastus carakathum nit.”

The stone statue that was all that was left of the lizzie shaman, changed color as the stone turned to mud. It slowly collapsed down upon itself until all that remained was a puddle with the vague shape of a head and a hand on the top of it. The mud turned white and cracked under the heat of the fires.

Watching the mud remains of the witch doctor reminded Senta that her own skin was under assault from the surrounding heat.

“Uuthanum rivah-necht,” she said, casting a spell to protect herself.

Then she walked between the burning buildings, navigating the narrow paths through Lizzietown, which was now completely engulfed in flames.

Magic Battles: The Young Sorceress

Posted on by
Reply

The Young Sorceress (New Cover)Senta and Hero stepped through the great gate in the emergency wall just in time to see a fireball shoot across the square and crash into the second and third floors of Finkler’s Bakery. Patrons ran screaming from the ground floor as the upper floors took to flame.

“You stupid cow!” shouted Senta. “Why would you cast a fireball in the middle of town?”

“Oh my!” said Hero, when she saw who Senta was talking to.

Another Senta was standing in the square in front of them. This one was wearing a red dress. Hero thought she looked older than the Senta standing beside her, but then realized it was simply that she was a bit heavier.

“You stay out of this,” said the red-dressed Senta. “You take care of your business and I’ll take care of mine.”

“I don’t recall burning down the town as being part of anyone’s business,” replied leather-clad Senta.

She grabbed a glamour from the air next to her. It was one she had kept ever since Mayor Korlann’s house had burnt down. She pointed her hand and the air around the burning building was flooded with carbon dioxide, smothering the fire.

“I’m just sending a little message,” said the other Senta. “Look. Now you’ve let them get away.”

“Let who get away?”

“Graham and that girl he’s running around with.”

“He what now?” Senta looked at Hero, who shrugged. “Whatever’s going on, you have no business trying to kill Graham.”

“I’m not going to kill him. Only maim him a little bit.”

“Obviously the first thing I need to do is to get rid of you,” said Senta, waving her hands. “Teiius uuthanum.”

“Uuthanum,” said the other Senta, countering the spell. “You’ve got to be kidding. No copy is going to out-magic me. Uuthanum Teigor.”

“I thought she was the copy,” said Hero.

“Prestus uuthanum. She is the copy. Go stand out of the way. Ariana uuthanum sembor!”

A sticky mass of spider webs enveloped the red-dressed Senta. She struggled for a moment, falling to the ground. By the time she managed to dispel the webs, the leather-clad Senta had cast a charm spell on her. Stepping over, she looked down at the image of herself lying almost helpless on the ground.

“If you touch me, you’ll see,” said the prone sorceress, in a sing-song voice. “I’m the real Senta. You’ll just cease to exist.”

“Let’s see then,” said Senta, reaching down and touching a perfect copy of her own nose.

The red dress seemed to deflate as the Senta who had been wearing it dissolved and flowed up and into the hand of the standing sorceress.

“Nice,” said Senta, standing up. “A new dress. I was wondering how that was going to work out.”

“I should have known you were the source of the trouble,” said Saba Colbshallow.

He looked sternly at Senta from beneath his police helmet, his blue uniform, with the exception of the sergeant stripes, a match for those of the two constables that followed on his heels.

“I didn’t…” Senta started. “But she… Oh, bloody hell.”

“Come along with me to the station,” said Saba. “We’ll get all the details down in a report. But I can tell you right now that someone is going to be held responsible for the damage.”

The top floors of the bakery had been saved from the fire, but there was plenty of scorching on the outside walls and no one would be too surprised if some of the supports had to be replaced.

“Fine,” said Senta, and then turning to Hero. “See if Mrs. Bratihn can get this dress cleaned. Tell her I’ll come around for a fitting.”

Magic Battles: The Drache Girl

Posted on by
Reply

The Drache Girl (New Cover)“I’ve been waiting quite a while for you, sorceress.” He smiled broadly, his thin-lipped mouth seeming abnormally wide across his heavy jaw line.

“I’m not a sorceress. I’m just a little girl and you should leave me alone.”

“Ah, I know that game.” He pulled the horn-rimmed spectacles from his upturned nose and wiped first his eyes and then the lenses with a handkerchief, replacing the glasses on his face and the handkerchief in his pocket. “You make three statements. One is true and the other two are lies. Then I have to guess which is true. Right?   Then I will have to say, you are a little girl.”

Senta crossed her arms and rocked back onto the heels of her shoes.

“My turn,” said the wizard. “My name is Smedley Bassington. I was born in Natine, Mirsanna. I know nothing about magic.”

“That’s too easy,” said Senta. “Smedley.”

“You should say Mr. Bassington. After all, I am your elder. One mustn’t be rude.”

“Okay, this one is harder,” replied Senta. “I’m going to have to say, number two, you are my elder.”

Bassington took a step forward, and then another.

“Uuthanum,” said Senta, waving her hand.

“Uuthanum,” said Bassington, waving his hand in an almost identical motion.

It might have seemed as though the two were exchanging some kind of secret greeting. In actuality, Senta had cast an invisible protective barrier between them. Bassington had dispelled the magic, destroying the barrier.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, the chosen apprentice of the most powerful sorceress in the world. That is, after I found out Zurfina was here. I had no idea where she had gotten to. Here I was, checking out that idiot and his machine, and instead I find the two of you.”

“I think that’s too many statements,” said Senta.

He stopped in the middle of the road about five feet away from her. A little wisp of wind whipped his short graying hair.

“Did she leave you here alone to take care of yourself? That’s just what she does, you know? She’s totally unreliable.”

“Are you allowed to use questions?” asked Senta, thinking to herself that this wizard did indeed seem to have her guardian pegged.

“Let’s not play that game,” said Bassington. “Let’s play something a little better suited to our unique abilities.”

He held out his hand, waist high, palm down and said. “Maiius Uuthanum nejor.”

Red smoke rose up from the ground just below his hand. It swirled and coalesced into a shape. The shape became a wolf. Its red eyes seemed to glow and the hair on its back and shoulders stood up as it bared its dripping fangs and snarled at Senta. She held out her own hand, palm pointed down.

“Maiius Uuthanum,” she said.

Green smoke rose from the ground below her hand, swirling around in a little cloud, finally billowing away to reveal a velociraptor with bright green and red feathers.

“A bird?” said Bassington, derisively.

The wolf lunged forward, snapping its teeth. The velociraptor clamped its long jaw shut on the wolf’s snout, and grasped its head in its front claws. The huge curved claw on the velociraptor’s hind foot slid down the canine’s belly, slicing it open and spilling steaming entrails out onto the gravel. A moment later, in a swirl of multihued smoke, both creatures disappeared again.

“Prestus Uuthanum,” said Bassington, placing his right palm on his chest, and casting a spell of protection on his own body.

“Uuthanum uusteros pestor,” said Senta, spreading her arms out wide. She seemed to split down the center as she stepped both right and left at the same time. Where there had been one twelve-year-old girl a moment ago, there were now four twelve year old girls who looked exactly the same.

The wizard waved his hand and said. “Ariana Uuthanum sembor.” All four Sentas found themselves stuck in a mass of giant, sticky spider webs.

One of the blond girls fell down. One of them pulled vainly at the webbing. The third picked up a rock from the ground and threw it with all of her might at Bassington hitting him just above the temple. The fourth waved her hand, saying the magic word “uuthanum”, and dispelling the webs. The girl who had pulled at the webbing helped the fallen girl stand up, and then the two of them merged together. The other two girls merged into her, and once again, there was only one Senta.

“Uuthanum uusteros vadia,” said Bassington and he disappeared.

Senta stood there for a moment, and then out of the corner of her eye, she saw several pieces of gravel shift on the ground to her left. She pointed her finger in the direction.

“Uuthanum Regnum,” she said.

A ray of colorful, sparkling light sprayed from her fingertip in the direction she pointed. Bassington cried out in surprise and reappeared, though he didn’t seem to suffer any ill effects of the spell, which usually left its victims covered in painful rashes.

“Erros Uuthanum tijiia,” he said.

A huge spectral hand, more than five feet across, appeared in the air in front of Senta. The middle finger was bent back beneath the thumb, and then flicked Senta in the chest. She fell backwards onto her bottom, crunching her bustle, and sliding several feet across the gravel road. She struggled to suck in a breath.

“Time to say ‘uncle’, don’t you think?” Bassington crossed his arms.

Senta tilted her head back and at last managed to pull some air into her lungs. The wizard waited.

“Well?” he said, finally.

“The sky is purple,” said Senta. “My dress is orange, and my dragon is going to bite your head off.”

Bassington stared for only a moment at Senta’s blue dress, before diving out of the way, just as Bessemer landed with a huge whomp right where he had been standing.

“Maiius Uuthanum nejor paj!” shouted Bassington, pointing toward the dragon, and then turned and ran north up the road as fast as he could.

Red smoke erupted just in front of Bessemer. As it dissipated, it revealed a huge shaggy man-like creature, covered in white hair and more than seven feet tall. Senta had never seen a gharhast ape before except in books, but she recognized one now that she saw it. The ape bared a set of incredibly long fangs, and yelling out a tremendous roar, jumped onto the dragon. Two very human looking hands grabbed the dragon around the neck as the ape attempted to dig its fangs into Bessemer’s neck. The steel colored scales remained impenetrable, though a startled look was visible in the dragon’s eyes.

Magic Battles: The Dark and Forbidding Land

Posted on by
Reply

The Dark and Forbidding Land (New Cover)Noticing that Finkler’s Bakery was open, Senta started across the square toward it. She wasn’t hungry, having just finished tea, but was interested to see what service at Port Dechantagne’s first eating establishment looked like. Halfway there she suddenly stumbled, sprawling across the gravel, wet and muddy with melted snow and scratchy with rock salt and jagged pebbles. Looking toward her feet, she spied a large rock that had obviously been the cause of her tumble. But how could she have missed it? Looking toward the pfennig store, she saw Streck laughing heartily. Jumping to her feet, she aimed a spell at him.

“Uuthanum,” she said, and six or seven gallons of water appeared in the air above the Freedonian’s head, dousing him.

Senta could see him mouthing the magic word even though she couldn’t hear it. Her feet flew out from beneath her, plopping her onto her bottom in the wet gravel. She fired right back, causing the pfennig store door to fly open, smacking Streck in the back of the head. With a shout in Freedonian that was no doubt profane, he made half a dozen determined strides toward her before remembering himself and coming to a stop in the middle of the square.

“Why don’t you shoot a lightning bolt?” he called to her. “Or perhaps a fireball?”

“I don’t want to burn down Mr. Parnorsham’s store.”

He sneered, then raised both hands toward her and said. “Talik Uuthanum.”

It was the first magic above the most basic cantrip that Senta had seen him do, and because the spell was an unfamiliar one, she didn’t know what to expect.

“Prestus Uuthanum,” she said, throwing a shield up around herself. She felt the magic bounce off and she saw Streck’s eyes widen. She mentally flipped through the spells with which she could counter-attack, but she didn’t use any of them. She waited to see what he would do. He stared at her for a moment, and then turning on his heel, he strode swiftly from the Town Square.

“Too right,” she called after him. “And don’t come back.”

Brushing off her coat, Senta turned to see about twenty people watching her from in front of the bakery. Their expressions were not difficult to read. There was concern, curiosity, and yes there was definitely fear. Some turned and went about their business, but most continued to watch her as she slowly crossed the square toward them.

“How’s the food?” she asked, when she was just a few steps away.

“It is of course, excellent,” said Aalwijn Finkler, stepping forward from the back of the group. “Would you like me to wrap up a couple of sandwiches and some soup for you to take home for dinner?”

“Um, I don’t have any money.”

“I will be happy to extend you credit.”

“Alright then.”

Senta waited outside the bakery, half watching to see if Streck would return. By the time Aalwijn came out with a small box loaded with wrapped packages of food, most of the gawkers were gone.

“I added a nice large piece of strudel—my gift for anyone who fights the Reine Zauberei.”

“So you know about them, eh?”

“There has been much talk of them and of him, among the Zaeri colonists.”

“Well, don’t get your corset in a twist. He’s just a wanker.”

Magic Battles: The Voyage of the Minotaur

Posted on by
Reply

Voyage of the Minotaur (New Cover)“Hello beautiful ladies,” said an accented voice from the east side of the stream.

Senta and Zurfina both looked up to see Suvir Kesi standing beneath a large pine. He wore his usual bright blue clothes and yellow fez with a blue tassel on top. He held his right hand straight out and dangled an 8 ½ x 11 inch sheet of paper.

“Uuthanum,” he said, and the paper burst in flame from the bottom, burning upwards as if it had been soaked in lamp oil.

“What the hell was that supposed to be?” asked the sorceress.

“A bit of mathematics,” Kesi giggled. “A result of the mechanism, you might say.”

“Silly thing to die over,” said Zurfina, “Uuthanum.”

She pointed to him with her right index finger, but nothing happened.

“Uuthanum uluchaiia uluthiuth!” shouted Kesi, raising both hands, and pressing them together, palms up.

A sphere of flame formed as he pulled his palms apart. Only two inches across, it surged and swirled there for a second, then shot toward the sorceress. In the thirty feet or so between the two of them, the ball of flame grew until when it hit Zurfina, it was six feet across. It exploded into a huge flash, knocking Senta away and into the water. When she looked back, she saw Zurfina completely on fire, her clothing and even her hair in flames. She too fell into the water, in a cloud of steam and smoke. Kesi let out another shrill laugh.

Senta couldn’t believe it, but Zurfina climbed back to her feet. Most of the black leather pants and leather corset she was wearing were gone, as was most of her blond hair. Her skin was scorched and when she moved, it cracked hideously. She pointed her finger again at Kesi.

“Uuthanum uastus corakathum paj,” she hissed. Again nothing happened.

“Bechnoth uuthanum pestor paj,” said Kesi, stretching out his hand.

A cone of cold, like the simple spell that Senta had learned her first day with Zurfina, but much larger and more powerful sprang from the wizard’s hand. The frosty air cut through the space between the two spellcasters, centering on Zurfina. In seconds, frost formed to cover her entire body, even freezing the stream for ten feet or more around her.

Senta let out a shriek and ran for the protection of the nearest tree on the opposite side of the river from where Kesi stood. She ducked behind a redwood three feet in diameter and dropped to her knees.

“Don’t go far!” called Kesi. “I have something I need to show you!”

It wasn’t the wizard, but a crashing sound that made Senta look around the tree. Just as she had suspected, Zurfina had broken out of the icy prison, melting the frost on her body and the ice in the stream. Senta had always thought that Zurfina could not be harmed by magic, but now the sorceress looked very unsteady. She reached up and snatched something out of the air near her face and threw the invisible object at Suvir Kesi. Whatever it was must have hit near him, because from out of the ground around his feet sprang a dozen black tentacles, each more than ten feet long. They immediately began grappling with the man. Zurfina dropped backwards into a sitting position in the chilly water.

Senta watched as Kesi pulled out a large curved dagger and began to hack at the tentacles, which wrapped themselves around his legs, arms, and neck. There was a real look of panic in his face, but after a moment, he began cutting more of the slippery black tentacles than grew to replace the ones lost. A look of triumph came over him and he slashed with renewed vigor until the last of the squiggly conjurations were gone. Throughout it all, Zurfina sat unmoving, the six-inch deep water flowing around her.

“Nothing to say?” asked Kesi, looking down at the sorceress. “Power all gone? I don’t think so. You still look a little feisty to me.”

“Uuthanum rechthinov uluchaiia,” he said.

Even as he did so, the sorceress grabbed another of the glamours floating around her head and threw it. It looked as though it took all her energy to do so. A bolt of lightning shot from Kesi’s hand directly at her. But a misty form, shaped like the spectral hand of some ghostly giant appeared out of nowhere, palm raised up like that of a police constable directing traffic, and the lightning bolt ricocheted away at a sharp angle.

“That was it, wasn’t it?” said the wizard. “Now you’re done. Thank goodness for that mechanical contraption. Without it, I never would have been able to formulate a spell powerful enough to counter magic that, well let’s be honest, is normally greater than mine by a factor of four.”

Magic Battles: Brechalon

Posted on by
Reply

Brechalon (New Cover)Zurfina had her ticket on the B511 out of Brech to Flander on the southern coast, where she had already arranged to meet a boat that would take her to a ship bound for Mirsanna. There was no way that she could stay in Brechalon any longer. The government had refused to accept her independence. They would have her join the military or they would see her destroyed. They had already sent a dozen wizards and two sorcerers against her. But Zurfina was the greatest practitioner of sorcery in the Kingdom and was more than a match for any wizard.

A man in a brown suit stepped out from behind a pillar. To the other people in the station, he seemed nothing out of the ordinary, but to Zurfina he glowed bright yellow and was surrounded by a sparkling halo. She didn’t wait for him to cast a spell. She pointed her hand toward him and spat out an incantation.

“Intior uuthanum err.”

Immediately the man doubled over, wracked with uncontrollable cackling laughter. But before Zurfina could smile appreciatively, she was thrown from her feet as the world around her exploded in flames. She had been hit in the back by a fireball, and only the fact that she had previously shielded herself prevented her from becoming a human candle, as four or five innocent bystanders around her now did. Rolling to her feet and turning around, she found that she faced not one, but four wizards. The one who had evidently cast the fireball was preparing another spell, while the other three were casting their own. Her shield protected her from the lightning bolt, and the attempt to charm her, but one of the four magic missiles hit her, burning her shoulder as though it had been dipped in lava.

“Uuthanum uastus corakathum paj—Prestus Uuthanum.” Zurfina ducked into a side alcove as one of the wizards turned to stone and her own shield was replenished. Several more magical bolts struck the stone wall across from her, creating small burnt holes. Peering quickly around the corner, she saw the four wizards just where she left them, the three trying to use their petrified comrade as cover. Looking in the other direction, she saw that the wizard cursed with laughter had recovered and he had been joined by two more.

Seven wizards—well, six. That was a lot of magical firepower. But then Zurfina looked across the station platform. Directly opposite her was the open door of a train; not the B511, but a train bound for somewhere else. If she could reach it, she could get away. She glanced quickly around the corner again. The smell of burnt bodies mixed with thick black smoke in the air, but though there was plenty of the former, there was not enough of the latter for Zurfina’s taste.

“Uuthanum,” she said, and a thick fog began to fill the station platform.

“Maiius uuthanum nejor paj.” The three wizards to her right suddenly faced a dog the size of a draft horse, snarling and foaming at the mouth, and they felt their spells were better aimed at it than any blond sorceress.

Turning to her left, Zurfina cast another spell. “Uuthanum uastus carakathum nit.”

The cement that formed the other end of the platform turned to mud. The petrified wizard, deprived of his secure foundation toppled over onto one of his comrades, crushing him, while the other two struggled to pull themselves from the muck. Zurfina shot out of the alcove and ran toward the train. She had almost made it, when Wizard Bassington stepped into the open doorway in front of her.

She stopped right there in the open, unbalanced, unsure now whether to run left or right or back the way that she had come. She felt uncomfortably like an animal caught on the road in the headlamps of an oncoming steam carriage. Bassington didn’t move. He stared at her with his beady eyes. His eyes went wide though when Zurfina reached up to snatch something out of the air. Normal, non-magical people couldn’t see them, but he could—the glamours that orbited her head were spells cast earlier, awaiting the moment when she needed them.

She crushed the glamour and pointed her hand at the spot where Bassington stood, just as he dived away. The entryway where the wizard had been, and the passenger coaches on either side of him exploded, lifting much of the train up off the track as metal and wood shrapnel and human body parts flew in every direction. The flash knocked Zurfina herself back onto the cement and sent her sliding across the pavement and into the far wall. Before she could get up, she was hit with a dozen bolts of magical fire, some but not all of them deflected by her magic shield. It was a spell of weakening, followed by one of sleep though that finally dropped her head unconscious to the ground. The last thing she saw was Bassington’s hobnail boots walking toward her.

Brechalon – Chapter Eight Part Two

Posted on by
Reply

Brechalon (New Cover)“So can you see the eclipse?”

“Sure. It’s ace,” said Saba, standing in the courtyard. Then he turned and saw who was speaking and flinched.

“Would you like to take a look, Miss?” he asked, offering Iolanthe the magic glass pane.

Taking the almost opaque square, she held it up to her eye and pointed her face toward the sky.

“Interesting. It looks like a halo.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does look like a halo, um… Miss.”

“It doesn’t feel like a halo, though, does it?”

“Miss?”

“Look at it again,” she said, handing back the magic glass. “This time, tell me what you feel.”

The boy looked again and suddenly shuddered. When he looked back at her, his face was accusing. She had made him aware of something he hadn’t noticed before. There was something evil about the eclipse, and though he had looked forward to the event since he had first heard about it from his mother, now all he wanted was the return of the sun in its full glory.

 

* * * * *

 

The thing on the other side of the membrane between two worlds tested it once again, and a moment later it burst through. It was long, thick tentacle, necrotic grey and covered with suction cups. It searched along the stone floor of the cell, tentatively at first. Then it touched the sorceress sitting naked and chanting and suddenly it shook and thrashed throughout the chamber.

“No!” shouted Nils Chapman and he jumped in front of Zurfina. The tentacle found him and wrapped around his waist.

“No!” he cried again, and then it yanked him so violently that the snapping of his neck was clearly audible, as it pulled him beyond the shimmering veil.

Suddenly the room was filled with a hundred tentacles, touching every inch of the cell, caressing the woman like a demonic lover. She slowly rose to her feet, the tips of the alien appendages touching every inch of her skin.

“Uuathanum eetarri blechtore maiius uusteros vadia jonai corakathum nit.”

A black fog poured into the cell from all four walls. It filled up the tiny chamber and sprayed through the openings in the door, creeping down the corridors of the prison and into every room and every cell, every nook and every alcove.

 

* * * * *

 

“How is it?”

“It was ace,” replied Saba. “Now I just want the sun to come back.”

“Don’t be like that.” Yuah stepped down the stairs from the back door and put an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Let me take a look.”

Saba held the square of magic glass up and Yuah pressed her eye to it, leaning back to find the sun. “There. The sun’s starting to move out from behind the moon. In a few minutes everything will be just like it was before.”

“Good.”

“You shouldn’t let Miss D ruin your fun. She’s a right bitch, you know.”

“No, she’s not.”

“She is.”

“Well, it’s not her fault.”

“What do you mean?” asked Yuah.

“Nothing. Here. Do you want this?” Saba pushed the magic glass into her hands and started up the stairs into the house.

 

* * * * *

 

Zurfina smiled as the dead grey tentacles caressed her.

“Now I will leave and now I will lay my vengeance on this stony prison and this little kingdom and this world.” She raised her arms and began her final incantation. “Uuthanum…”

At that moment a thin streak of light entered from the small window high up on the wall. It was so tiny that it might have gone totally unnoticed, had it not stuck the first and largest of the grey arms moving around the cell. But the tiny sliver of sunlight burned through the tentacle like a hot ember through a slice of bread. The great tentacle jerked and thrashed about the room and the other appendages did too, one of them striking the woman and throwing her halfway across the floor. More sunlight entered through the window and all of the unearthly, unholy members were yanked back through the portals that shimmered where the walls of the cell had once been.

“No! No, I’m not finished!” screamed Zurfina.