Missing Stitches, Chapter One

Prologue

Since, the moment that these creeping things started to crawl upon their earth, I have hated them. Slow, stupid, bumbling things. Always at war with each other, always hating their own kind for the shallowest of reasons. Even the ones directly touched by their Creator are gray, drab things.

My own children would have shined, would have dominated the universe.

But, as they’re already bent on self-destruction, I’ll make use of them.

Possessing these creatures turned out to be a far simpler task than I ever anticipated, which opened my mind to all sorts of new possibilities. If I can possess one, perhaps I can gift one, the way their Creator does.

I’ve watched this one for a while. The third brother, not gifted like the two that came before him. His pride has been hurt, and he’s angry. He’s angry that his brother died, angry that his country was invaded. There are more selfish angers. And, of course, there is fear. I can always rely on fear. And so, when I began to whisper to him, he was ready to listen.

“If Samuel had no male heir, you should have been the one to inherit. Instead, he snubbed you and chose his daughter. What right does Samuel have to pass you up? It’s only because she is a mage. She and her common born, Montelarian husband, are more worthy in Samuel’s eyes than you. And now, they’re going to outrank you. That filth, the brother of the man who killed Issac, will be your king. You’ll be expected to bow to him, and his daughters.”

“This is the way of things,” I told him, “in a world run by mages.”

He’s been good enough to remove himself from his family. He’s gone to his country estate on his own lands. This is where I want him, sitting by the fire, sipping brandy, and going over financial records for his lands. Brooding, telling himself what a good landlord he is.

I slipped inside of him. It caused him some pain, I suppose, enough that he dropped his glass and cried out.

“Hush,” I whispered, “you’ll be glad I’m here.”

“What?” he cried.

“I’m going to help you. All of your life you’ve been neglected. Your brothers have always been favored because they were mages.”

“What’s happening?” he screamed.

“I’m helping you,” I said. “They were gifted, not because they’re better, or more worthy than you, but because the one you call your Creator is cruel. Picking and choosing people to bless at random, setting them above His other creations. You’re going to help me fix all of that. And in return, you’ll have power above all, more than you could possibly imagine.”

“Power,” he whispered. He was calm, then. He rose to his feet and nodded. Like a good little puppet.

“Yes,” I answered him. “We must start by killing your brother, and his daughter.”

Part One

Chapter One

Lenore Mestonie stood at the prow of her Uncle Lewis’s ship, the SOS Albatross. It was the flagship of her country, made of dark stained wood with billowing blue sails. It was a fantastic ship, the pride of her uncle. But she wasn’t interested in it.

She was looking for the silver gate, the Great Gate. The gate that led to her city, Septa. She felt as though she was starving, so desperate was she for the sight of it.

In her arms was her firstborn daughter, Eleanor. They shared the same blue eyes and cream-colored skin. But while Lenore had the dark curly hair that was a recognizable Mestonie trait, Eleanor had the light blonde hair of her father.

“Keep looking, little princess,” Lenore said, pointing toward the horizon. “We’ll be home soon. Not soon enough, but soon.”

A chorus of yipping alerted her to the arrival of her hound, Shepard, and her puppies. The baby dogs had inherited much from their wolf father and bore no resemblance to their mother’s brown fur and floppy ears. Instead, their gray coat was darker but not by much. Their ears would likely perk up over time, but for now, they flopped down comically as they bounced around in play with each other.

Shepard came to her master’s side and leaned against her. “Oh, are the babies tiring you out?” Lenore asked, scratching her ear.

“They are certainly tiring me out,” said her husband, Victor, as he joined her. “Worse than our two, these dogs.” He was holding Eleanor’s twin sister, Loralie, upside down to make her giggle. She looked even smaller than she was when her father held her. He was a large man, taller than any other on the ship. He’d allowed his blond hair to grow while they’d visited Montelair, and even now it flopped over his face. Loralie more closely resembled Lenore, with the same curly hair and button nose.

On Victor’s shoulder was a brown rat they called Korzhik. He had recently suffered a bath from Ramona, the family nurse. He looked much fluffier but seemed obsessed with washing the scent of soap out of his fur.

“You have been standing here all morning,” Victor chuckled. “You know you can’t get us there any faster by staring.”

“I know,” Lenore replied, “I’m just eager to be home.” She set a hand on her belly. She hadn’t yet started showing, but she knew it wouldn’t be long. “I can’t wait to tell everyone that we’re expecting another baby.”

Victor grinned. He pulled her and Eleanor close with one arm and kissed her. “And we won’t be on the run, with this pregnancy. We have peace with Montelair, and we will be home. I won’t have to worry every second that you’re in danger, for once.” He glanced around the deck, and added, “I do notice, however, that Anthony seems to have abandoned you.”

“I sent him below deck to pack,” Lenore replied. “I can’t imagine I need to be guarded while aboard the ship.”

A flash of silver caught her attention in the distance. “There it is,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. In the crow’s nest, a sailor was shouting the news. Soon Captain Lewis and his daughter, Lady Harper, were on the deck.

Lewis, Lenore’s uncle on her mother’s side, was a barrel-chested man who looked more like an old sea captain than a nobleman. His beard was trimmed but longer than Septan fashion. He wore cotton to keep him warm at sea. His face showed the wear of years in the ocean winds. His daughter, Harper, was taller than him by a hand, with a messy bun and a thick wool coat over her shoulders. She wore breeches, unlike any of the other women aboard. She seemed to be in the process of scolding her father.

“No, I don’t think it was warranted at all,” she said. “That woman devoted her life to The Creator, and you bloody well made her cry.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if she’d listened when I asked her to stop fussing over me,” Lewis said. “Daughter Coriander looked over me, and she didn’t fuss.”

“That’s Elder Sister Coriander now. I’m sure she’s going to have something to say to you when she finds out about your behavior. In fact, I imagine she’s going to kick your bum up beside your ears.”

“I am your papa!” Lewis said, “And you’ll not be telling the Elder anything. Unless you want your mama to hear about your pants wearing ways.”

“Uncle,” Lenore said, “we’re nearly home. Are you excited?”

“Not particularly,” Lewis said. “I’ve come home to the Great Gate hundreds of times, Niece. Mostly what I do when I get there is find a new reason to get back on my ship.”

“He’s not allowed fatty meat anymore,” Harper said. “He’s replacing it with being a prat at everyone.”

Lenore stifled a laugh. “I’m going to go check on Tabitha and Lucy,” she said. Leaving Eleanor with Harper, she headed below deck.

Her room on the ship was small, but space on board was always at a premium. The bed was made already, with a thick blue comforter and white satin pillows. Tabitha and Lucy were packing Victor and Lenore’s belongings from the built-in drawers into a trunk.

Tabitha quick eyes darted over to Lenore when she entered the room, not bothering to bow. Years of friendship had put an end to such things. Her wife, Lucy, was a good head taller than her, with a sharp nose. She as well didn’t bow but gave Lenore a quick nod.

Sitting with them was the Montelarian Princess, Victor’s niece, Anna. Several weeks of good meals and good care had been enough to put some weight on the child. It hadn’t yet taken away the haunted look in her eyes. After the childhood the girl had, Lenore wasn’t sure it would ever go away.

From the open doorway, leading into the next room, Lenore could see Anthony, her bodyguard. His long, curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, leaving his scarred neck exposed. He was going over his bags and gave her a brief nod when he saw her.

“I didn’t think we had that much to pack,” Lenore said. “Didn’t most of our things burn up in the explosion?”

“We’ve only just started,” Tabitha said.

“I’m packed,” Anna said.

“Good,” Lenore said. “Thank you, Anna.”

Ramona, the royal nurse, came bustling in just then. She was a portly woman, dressed plainly in a cotton gown and simple shoes. “Where are the babies?” she asked.

“On deck with Victor,” Lenore said.

Ramona threw her hands up. “I’ve got to get them dressed!” she cried. “Does no one think to tell me these things?”

She hurried out of the room again.

“We’re about to go through the Great Gate,” Lenore said. “Anna, would you like to come see?”

“Are we?” Lucy asked, getting to her feet. “Great, I can’t wait to get off this ship.”

“Oh no, you’re staying here,” Lenore said, “Anna’s already packed.”

Lenore took Anna’s hand and led her upstairs, leaving Tabitha and Lucy to mutter over the packing.

Back on deck, Ramona was fussing over the cotton dresses the girls were wearing. “I can’t believe this is how we’re presenting them to their grandparents,” she said. “Lenore, you and your brothers never wore cotton.”

“We were in a war in Montelair,” Lenore said. “I think Mama and Papa will understand.”

“Well, maybe the king will,” Victor said, “Her Grace might not be as understanding when she sees her granddaughters in common cotton.”

Anna looked startled. “Is cotton not all right? What about wool?” She was dressed in a dark red wool gown, with silver buttons down the front. Her boots were Montelarian leather with fur lining. She wore a rabbit furred hat now that they were out on the deck.

“You look perfect, Dear,” Lenore said, putting a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. “You’re a princess. Anything you do is noble.”

Monroe, the chief of Septa’s ambassadors, joined them on deck. He looked flustered, which turned to irritation when he caught sight of Anna. “Princess,” Monroe said. “Your brother and uncle tasked me with looking after you. How am I to do that if you don’t stay where you tell me you’re going to be?”

Anna put her hands behind her back. “But I was with Mistress Tabitha,” she said.

“Yes, but I didn’t know that, did I,” Monroe stated. He sighed and looked up at Lenore. “How will you ever look after three of these?”

Victor, who was wiping dirt from Eleanor’s nose, said, “We employ a nursemaid. We also live in a palace full of servants, with my in-laws. I am sure we will manage as many babies as Lenore and I can have.”

As they pulled into Septan waters, the naval fleet came into view. Uncle Lewis, as commander of the navy, moved to the prow of the ship to greet them. Lenore stood beside him after setting Eleanor on her hip.

Lewis gave her a proud smile. “Look at you. The first female heir to the throne, coming home to the city that loves her.”

“I don’t know if my city loves me,” Lenore said, “but I sure love her.”

“I have missed Septa as well,” Victor said, pulling her close.

“Really? You didn’t want to stay in Montelair?” Lenore asked.

“No,” Victor replied, “It was good to visit my motherland, but this is my home.”

The ship pulled into the dock. Sailors hurried to set up a plank for them to disembark. Lenore’s father, King Samuel Mestonie, waited for them. He was a tall man, with no more than a dusting of gray in his dark hair. He was dressed plainly, in black breeches and a blue jacket with embroidery at the hems. But for the silver crown on his head, he might have been any Septan man.

Lenore wanted desperately to run to her father and throw her arms around his shoulders. Since the last time she’d seen him, she’d fought in a war, commanded a military hospital and nearly been blown to pieces several times. She wanted to be a child again, with her father there to watch after her.

Too much time had passed since she was a little girl though. Too many things had been said, and not said between them, for her to run to him like that again.

Instead, she walked to the end of the plank and bowed to him.

“What’s this?” Samuel asked, “Bug, I haven’t seen you in months! Come here.” He reached out for her and pulled her into a tight hug. “I was starting to get worried I wasn’t ever going to see you again,” he whispered.

“I’m fine,” Lenore said, a little stiffer than she meant to. “I’ve missed you too, Papa.”

Eleanor, caught between the two of them, started fussing. This caught Samuel’s attention. “I have missed you as well, my tiny darling,” he said, taking her.

Victor came to the end of the plank with Loralie. “There’s little Lori,” Samuel said, reaching out for her. “Victor, you look well, son. Come, let’s get home so that we can catch up.”

They boarded the waiting gondola. Lord James, the founder of the Dead Eye archers, stood next to the poler. His broad shoulders fit strangely over an otherwise narrow frame. He gave Lenore and Victor a nod, but then returned to scanning the crowd with wary eyes.

It was common practice for commoners to collect to see members of the royal family return home. Lenore had expected it.

What she hadn’t expected was for the people to be angry to see her.

All along the boardwalks, people jostled to see the gondolas and shouted insults. Some people waved greetings, but this seemed to infuriate the others. Several fights broke out as Lenore watched.

“What is this?” Lenore asked.

“There’s been a bit of trouble,” Samuel said. “We’ll talk at the palace.”

“I thought you said things had calmed down,” Victor said. Someone threw something at the gondola. Victor clenched his fist, bringing up a magical shield. A rotten egg hit it, breaking and falling into the canal waters.

“This is calmer,” Samuel said, grimacing.

Their gondola pulled up to the front of the palace. Anthony stepped onto the dock to assist Lenore. Just then, a young man ran from the crowd toward him. His hair was a mess, and his clothes were stained and rumpled as though he’d been wearing them for days. A guard grabbed his arm, but Anthony yelled, “Let him go, I know him.”

The boy stumbled toward him. Lenore had hopped from the gondola herself. “Anthony, who is this?” she asked.

“Princess, this is Heath. He is my son’s lover,” Anthony said.

“I tried to get a letter to you,” Heath sobbed, “but I couldn’t. I’m sorry, Anthony, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, Boy?” Anthony asked. “Stand up straight and stop babbling in front of the nobility. What’s going on?”

“It’s Adam,” Heath sobbed. “The Underground Path got him!” He broke into sobs and fell to his knees in front of them. “They tore out his guts in the middle of the square!”

Copyright, Nicole C. Luttrell. All rights reserved.

Click here to see all the places Missing Stitches will be available on Friday.

Missing Stitches is going wide

This post is coming out a little later than expected. Everything seems to take more time recently than I think it’s going to.

But better late than never.

Missing Stitches, book three of Woven, is going wide on June 27th.

An ancient sect is rising in Septa. One that might mean death for Lenore and her daughters.

Septa is on the verge of civil war. Lenore, Sultiana, Devon and Victor return to the city to face their uncle. But this danger is soon eclipsed by Brother Brennan, a disillusioned priest of The Creator who is determined to pull Lenore from her throne and put her in her grave.

With the princesses missing, and war raging in the streets, Lenore will have to call on every ounce of light she has to save her family and city.

This book has one of my favorite villains I’ve ever written, Brother Brennan. He is evil, scary, and driven by a religious fanatical hatred.

If you’ve always wanted to read the Woven trilogy, but a dislike of Amazon’s been holding you back, I’m so glad that I can offer it to you now.

More to come.

Starting Chains, Chapter Three

Victor was hiding a yawn behind his fist when Talmadge came into his office. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep.

She was a short girl with a neat gown and the sloppiest braid in Septa. She looked around the room, terror written on her face.

“Sorry, Talmadge,” Victor said as he stood to greet her. “I haven’t gotten an hour sleep at a time in a few days now. Our nurse tells me that’s common with infants. Have a seat.”

She looked at the chair he’d indicated, a heavy wooden one with a cushioned seat, as though it must surely be a trick. Finally, though, she sat.

“Do you like the new office?” Victor asked as he took his seat behind the desk. It was a large desk, highly polished. The room had a set of double doors that led out to the garden. There was a thick blue rug on the floor. “I’ve been appointed the Queen’s Apprentice, learning how to keep a palace. Apparently that takes lots of time, and work; far too much book keeping and a whole office.”

“I’m sorry, why am I here?” Talmadge blurted finally.

Victor grinned at her. “Wait. We’re missing someone.”

There was a knock on the door. When he called a greeting, two guards escorted Thomas, the disgraced spymaster of Septa, into the room.

Prison obviously had not agreed with Tom. His fine clothes had been replaced by undyed, rough spun cloth. His usually well cared for hair looked greasy.

The guards dropped Tom in front of the desk. Talmadge shied away from her former employer, but Victor’s grin widened. “How’s prison?” he asked. “From what I remember, the food was a little uninspired.”

“Prince Victor,” Tom sputtered.

“Oh, I do love to hear you use my shiny new title. Especially since the last time we spoke you were calling me a traitor and advising the king to execute me,” he replied.

“Sire, I was misled. My informants-”

“No, shut your damn mouth,” Victor’s smile dropped away. “I was your informant, you sneaking coward. You think I’m stupid enough to fall for the same lie you tried to use against me?”

“Again, why am I here?” Talmadge asked.

“Because I want to offer you his old job, and I want him to know I’m offering it to you,” Victor said.

“Are you kidding? She’s an untrained maid, for Creator’s sake!” Tom cried.

“No, she’s a maid who can read all of your codes, and has been feeding you information for years,” Victor said. He leaned across his desk and glared down at Tom. “You’re a bad spy, but you’re really good at using talented people.”

“I think you’re vastly overstating my talents,” Talmadge added, wringing her fingers.

“This wasn’t my idea. It was King Samuel’s. He’s just delegating it to me. Though I happen to think he’s right.”

“The king really has lost his mind,” Tom muttered.

Victor stood. In his fury, his hands glowed blue with magic. “You will watch how you speak of that man in front of me,” he growled. “I owe him my world. Talmadge will be our spymaster, and we’re going to toss you into the same dark hole we threw former Elder Brother Marcus.”

“Wait,” Talmadge said, holding a hand up. “Don’t lock him up.”

“Why? He was a terrible master to you,” Victor asked.

“But we can use him,” she replied. “You and the king think I’m a good spy, but I’m not. It’s just that, well, people are more willing to talk around you if they think you’re a nobody. So, if you tell everyone I’m the spymaster, I won’t learn anything new.”

“Ah, but if people still think this fool is in charge they won’t pay attention to you,” Victor said. “See, I knew you’d be good at this. You can keep him, if you want. You’ll have to watch him carefully, though.”

“Of course,” Talmadge agreed.

“What makes you think I’d agree to this insulting situation?” Tom spat.

She took a deep breath and stood, looking Tom full in the face for what Victor was sure was the first time. “Well, you can do this, or I’ll pick a pretty face off the street and the king can toss you back in a cell. I can work just as well with any warm body in that seat.”

Tom looked sober at that. Finally, his voice dripping with sarcasm, he replied. “Fine. I am happy to serve the throne.”

“Thank you for your service,” Victor snapped. The guards escorted Tom from the room, and Victor turned his attention back to Talmadge.

“Are you really sure about this?” Talmadge asked. “If this is about me finding those letters, you don’t owe me anything. It didn’t even work. The king was still going to execute you.”

“Madge, if this was just about thanking you, I’d give you a title and some land. But I cannot afford to have someone I don’t trust as spymaster. I need you to tell me what’s going on in the city.”

“You’re right about that. People are angry, and they’re whispering,” she replied.

“How many of them are whispering about my wife?” he asked.

“More than we should be comfortable with,” she said.

Victor nodded. “I can’t imagine half of the noble families leaving the court in protest is helping.”

“You and Anthony must stay close to Lenore. She’s in more danger now than ever.”

“Yeah,” Victor said. He stood and went to the doors to look out at the garden. Lenore was there, with Ramona and the babies. They were napping on a blanket in the sunlight. “You know, she saved this damn city from Marcus. You’d think people would be grateful.”

“And there are hundreds who are,” Talmadge responded. “She spent her youth taking care of people behind the Elder Brother’s back. She spins light and darkness into thread. Lots of people are ready to fight for her. They even accept you because of her.”

“That’s the problem. It’s not just that people are angry, it’s the division. The whole city’s ready to tear each other apart.”

Talmadge smiled. “She’ll win them over. She’s good like that.”

Victor smiled too. “Who knows better than me how easy Lenore is to love?”

Click here to find all the ways to read Starting Chains.

©Copyright Nicole Luttrell. All rights reserved.

Starting Chains is going wide

It’s official. Starting Chains is going wide on Friday May 30th!

If you’re new here, welcome. Starting Chains is the second book in my breakout fantasy series about magic, dragons and religious trauma.

After years of war between Montelair and Septa, the two thrones are united by family. Victor’s nephew, Morgan, is sharing the throne with the last heir of the royal line, Jacob. He and Lenore decide to travel to Montelair with their newborn daughters to help broker peace. But peace among their own people is harder to achieve. The city is tormented by a terrorist who calls himself The Tinker. He and his group of anarchists plant bombs through the city and call for the death of the new kings from every street corner. Meanwhile, in Calistar, Sultiana and Devon are marching to war with Kussier. The ancient hatred between the two countries is sprung anew when Sultiana is declared heir to the Calistar throne. Waiting at the border, though, is a much darker enemy. A force from legend threatens to consume both countries, and possibly the world.

Check out the places you’ll be able to get Starting Chains here.

Broken Patterns, Chapter Three

Broken Patterns is available everywhere today!

Lenore stood with the other ladies of court on the steps of the palace, trying desperately to suppress a sigh. Her cousins, Harper and Joan, stood next to her. Joan was Uncle Joseph’s daughter and a Mestonie. She stood closer than Harper, who was Uncle Lewis’s daughter and on the queen’s side of the family. Lenore thought that if Joan whispered one more comment about how they were the only Mestonie girls and therefore should set a shining example, she was going to go ahead and let Harper punch her out of her boots.

Lorna glanced back at Lenore, and said, “Wipe that nasty look off of your face. King Omar will arrive any minute. I’ll not have you looking like a spoiled toddler.”

She widened her eyes and planted a great smile on her mouth. “How lovely indeed, Mother. Perhaps King Omar could explain to me how it was vitally important I not be allowed to have even one of my dogs with me, seeing as how the last time we visited him in Calistar I had three, and he seemed to find this delightful.”

Harper giggled, but stopped after a look from the queen. “Sorry, Auntie,” she whispered.

Lorna glanced back at Victor, who stood just behind Lenore. “How ungrateful you are, Lenore. I did let you bring one of your dogs,” she snapped.

“Why is King Omar coming to visit now?” Hannah asked quickly.

“To talk to Ambassador Vitaly, and be a friend to Papa,” Lenore said. “He’s holding up really well after Uncle Issac’s death, but I can imagine he’d like to see his friend right about now.”

“It was such a crushing loss to the Mestonie family,” Joan said, batting her eyes. “Really, it’s been difficult for us all.”

“Especially those of us who actually liked Michael,” Harper muttered. “As opposed to those who lived in their country estate and only saw him once a year on his birthday.”

Lorna cleared her throat. The crowds at the front of the palace were cheering, as the royal gondola glided into view.

King Omar was the first person anyone would have noticed. Over six feet tall, he had the dark brown skin of Calistar, a completely bald head, and a neat goatee. He wore a white silk tunic and loose flowing breeches, with a long dagger tucked into his sash. He was standing up on the gondola with Samuel, both waiving to the cheering people.

“Princess, how should I feel about this man?” Victor asked.

“He’s my papa’s best friend, and he likes us well enough,” Lenore said. “But he won’t be in the same room as a girl unless her husband or father is there.”

“That’s not just the king,” Harper said, “It’s the law in Calistar. Don’t make it sound like he’s being strange, Lenore.”

“The girls wear veils over their faces, but leave their bellies exposed like prostitutes, you tell me how that’s not strange,” Joan replied.

“I really hope we just got that all out of our system before anyone important could hear you,” Lorna said.

“Yes, Aunt,” the other girls replied.

The gondola came to a halt in front of the steps. Samuel and Omar disembarked, and made their way up the stairs. “Ah, Queen Lorna,” Omar called in his booming voice. “You look more lovely every time I see you.”

“Thank you, King Omar,” Lorna said with a smile and a curtsy.

“And the little ladies,” Omar said. “Samuel, I don’t know how you let them walk around without veils. They are too precious to be seen by all these unworthy men. Princess Lenore, I hardly recognize you without your puppies.”

Lenore and the girls made neat curtsies to Omar. “I am honored to see you again, King Omar,” she said, in perfect Calistarian.

He laughed out loud, and said in the same tongue, “Clever girl, very clever. I’ve brought my two oldest daughters to visit with you. I am sure you will have a wonderful time with them.”

Lenore, who knew very well that Omar’s oldest daughter was two years younger, suppressed a wince. “I am sure that I will be as good of friends with them as you are with my papa,” she said.

A second gondola was pulling up to the docks. Two girls dressed all in white silk sat on the benches, their faces covered in veils. How am I to carry on a conversation with two girls whose faces I can’t even see? she thought.

As they disembarked, Lenore noticed that the taller of the two was indeed wearing a shirt that didn’t cover her stomach, and there was a diamond set in her navel. They walked serenely up to Lenore, and set their hands together before giving an inclination of their heads. Lenore did the same, having learned to do so while staying in Calistar. Joan tried to imitate her, but Harper simply curtsied.

“It is wonderful to meet you, Princess Lenore,” said the taller one. “My sister and I were too young to be properly introduced when you visited our home. My name is Sultiana, and this is Chrissie.” The shorter girl nodded.

“I’m very happy to meet you both,” Lenore said.

“Let’s head inside now,” Lorna said, gesturing towards the courtyard. “It is rather warm out in the sun today, and we have cold drinks waiting.”

As the Calistar Princesses fell into step beside Lenore, Chrissie whispered, “Warm? It’s freezing out here.”

“Chrissie, shut up,” Sultiana hissed. “You are a guest.”

“D’you really think it’s cold?” Hannah asked. She and Lady Larissa, the final young woman of court, had quickened their steps to join them.

“It is in comparison to home,” Sultiana explained.

“That’s right, Calistar is a desert,” Harper said. “I’ve always wanted to see it, but my papa doesn’t like it. He says it’s too far away from the water for mages like us.”

“How do you survive with all that sand?” Larissa asked. “Doesn’t it just ruin your things?”

“Not all of us wear cloth of gold gowns to Midweek supper,” Lenore replied.

The other girls laughed. Larissa, whose father was the royal treasurer, pointed her nose in the air.

They all settled in the large library just off of the dining hall. This was Lenore’s favorite room in the palace. Sofas were scattered around the room, and the walls were lined with bookshelves. The whole roomed smelled of paper and ink, though there was still a lingering scent from the tobacco her Uncle Issac had smoked.

Lenore sat down on one couch, and the girls sat around her, with Sultiana on her left and Hannah on her right.

“I do wish we might have visited somewhere away from the men, so that we could take our veils off,” Sultiana said. “At home, we have our own sitting rooms, so that we can rest in privacy.”

“Must you have your veils on all the time in front of men?” Joan asked. “How do you eat?”

“We do not eat in the company of men unless they are our family,” Chrissie said.

“Oh, that might make supper difficult here,” Victor said.

The Calistar Princesses gasped, and turned away from him quickly.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to talk to them, Victor,” Lenore said.

Victor blushed. “Forgive me, Princess Lenore, for insulting your new friends. Please tell them for me that I did not intend to violate their customs.”

“What can one expect from a savage, after all,” Joan muttered.

“Princess Lenore, you allow your noblewomen to speak in such a way?” Sultiana said, her voice suddenly very quiet. “Because, it seems to me that the warrior responsible for protecting the greatest jewel of Septa should be shown more respect.”

“The greatest jewel in Septa,” Harper laughed. “Lenore, can I call you the greatest jewel in Septa? We should embroider that on your night robe.”

“Apparently we’re not as particular about nobility here,” Lenore said, trying not to laugh at Harper. “But you’re right. Seems awfully stupid to talk about a loyal man like that. Seems like a girl might just take offense at that, and slap someone’s face, if she doesn’t stop running her fat mouth.”

Joan gasped. She and Larissa excused themselves quickly, and left without waiting for Lenore’s leave.

“That seemed cruel,” Chrissie said.

“I quite agree, those girls were very rude,” Sultiana added.

Across the room, the kings were getting to their feet. “My friends,” Samuel said, “King Omar and I must discuss a few things, matters of state and such. Rather than bore you all with that, I’d like to invite you into the garden, where food and drink are waiting. We’ll join you when our work is completed.”

Lorna rose, among her ladies, and started to lead everyone out into the garden. Sultiana glanced around, and said, “That is very peculiar. Kadar and Shilom are not going with my honored father.”

“Who are Kadar and Shilom?” Lenore asked.

Sultiana pointed to a very tall man dressed in red with his hair in thick braids, and an older man dressed in blue with a prominent forehead. “That is Kadar, of the smith tribe, and Shilom, of the Scholars. They are his chief advisers. If our honored fathers are to discuss work, these men should be with them.”

Lenore glanced around, and noticed that Lord David and Uncle Lewis, her father’s own chief advisers, were leaving with the rest.
“What are they talking about without them, I wonder?” Lenore whispered. They went out into the garden. The sun was shining, and tables of food had been set out with blue tablecloths. Lenore glanced towards the wall. It had been repaired, but the bricks were of a different shade. She shuddered, wondering if she was the only one who thought it morbid that they were playing in the garden where Uncle Issac and Michael died. She glanced over at Devon. From the look on his face, she wasn’t.

“So, you won’t be able to properly meet my brothers, or the other boys of the court?” Lenore asked, trying to distract herself. “Or can you speak to them with your father present?”

“We may not speak to them at all,” Sultiana said. “In fact, I am surprised that my honored father even allowed us to be in this garden with all of these men without him.”

“Whatever he is talking to King Samuel about must be of the gravest importance, to break such laws,” Chrissie said.

“I wonder,” Sultiana said, looking along the wall, “if someone wanted to hear their conversation, what would they do?”

“They would be smart to forget that idea,” Chrissie said, “After all, they are kings, and if they want a moment of private conversation that not even their advisers are privy to, then surely their daughters should respect that.”

“Of course,” Lenore said, “but if someone wanted to do it, they could manage it by sneaking into the servants’ hall, and listening at the door.”

“And I am off,” Hannah said, “If my mamma finds me spying, she’ll have me shut up in the kitchens for a week, scrubbing pots.”

“I shall come with you, as Malonie smiles upon little girls who obey their elders, not those who delight in disobedience,” Chrissie replied. They made their way towards the food table.

“Right, so the servants’ halls have got an entrance right over here,” Harper said, pointing her thumb towards the wall.

“I think I ought to wait here, Princess,” Victor said. “I do not think it will be healthy for me to be found sneaking about with the Calistar princess, even in the company of others.”

“Good thinking, you can keep watch,” Lenore said. “Tell my mamma we went to the necessary room if she notices us gone?”

Victor gave her a wicked smile. “The Queen is well occupied, showing off for the ladies of court. You will not be missed, I think.”

The three girls glided serenely across the grass. “Will Chrissie tell?” Lenore asked.

“No, will your friend, Hannah?” Sultiana replied.

“She won’t,” Lenore said. They looked around when they got to the door to make sure no one was watching. Then, Harper opened it, and all three of them disappeared into the hall.

The servants’ hall was well lit with torches and set with a cobblestone floor. Lenore led Sultiana and Harper along until they reached the door that would lead them to the library. They saw no one along the way.

Outside of the room, all three girls clustered around the door to listen.

“I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you,” Omar was saying. “I know this is not the best time.”

“Not the best time!” Samuel cried. “Issac and Michael were just killed, right in front of two of my children! I’ve got the whole damn country in my lap, which I am apparently handling terribly, according to every single person who’s got anything to say to me. We’re on the threshold of war with Montelair. Not the best time is an understatement!”

“I haven’t got a choice,” Omar said. “You know how sensitive these things are for my people. If I don’t have an heir, I’ll be looking at civil war.”

Lenore looked at Sultiana. “What’s that about?” she asked.

“My father does not have a son, brother or any male relatives,” Sultiana said. “My honored mother passed into The Goddesses’ hands a year ago. Our people grow restless, with no heir apparent.”

“And your people are a little fussy with each other, aren’t they?” Harper asked.

“If by that you mean the tribe leaders would sooner cut each other’s throats than decide together who our next heir should be, then yes,” Sultiana replied. “There has already been fighting between the Smiths and the Herdsmen.”

“Samuel, I won’t get another chance like this,” Omar said. “Don’t you see what this would mean to my people? I’ve spent my life trying to get these closed border fools on my council to listen to me. You are still the only Septa man who can enter our lands without getting shot on sight. And a man who leaves with his family is hunted like a traitor by his own family. Now, I’ve got the Traders on my side, the Scholars as well. The Farmers will side with me just to stop the war. I’ve got the Smiths and the Herdsmen outvoted. If I can’t do this now, I will never get another chance.”

“Omar, you are asking me to give up one of my children,” Samuel said. “You’re asking me to change his family name, as though he was never even mine.”

“Not until they are married,” Omar said. “He’ll stay here until then.”

“Octavian?” Lenore whispered.

“Who is that?” Sultiana asked.

“My little brother,” Lenore replied. “But he can’t go to Calistar. He’s our heir.”

“Omar, I think you ought to meet the boy first,” Samuel said. “He’s not really the sort of man who’d likely get on well in Calistar.”

“Well, now I know he’s not talking about Octavian,” Harper said.

“Oh damn,” Lenore whispered.

“Devon seems like a bright boy,” Omar said. “And he’s young. It’s still too early to tell what sort of man he’ll be. I am sure that he and Sultiana will get on very well.”

“Is Devon your other brother?” Sultiana asked. “The quiet one?”

“He is,” Lenore said.

Samuel sighed. “I wanted him to stay here, and be an adviser to Octavian, like I was to Issac.”

“But if he comes to Calistar, he will be a king,” Omar said.

“And why in the nine levels of hell would I want that?” Samuel asked. “Weren’t you the one who told me that the crown was a curse? That being a king would always come before being a father and husband? Why d’you think I’d want that for both of my sons?”

“I don’t,” Omar said. “But I know that you do want peace. I know that you know what will happen to Septa if Calistar falls to war. I know that you are already acting as a king first. And I know that Devon will do the same. I am sorry, my friend, but this is the best option for both of us, not just me. Unless you want Octavian to inherit a warring neighbor after my death.”

“You are right,” Samuel said. “Creator preserve us, I know it. I’ll speak to Lorna, she’ll be livid.”

Lenore got to her feet. “I’ve got to go find my little brother, excuse me,” she said.

“I do not think that you are very happy with this news,” Sultiana said.

“It’s nothing against you,” Lenore said. “It’s only that, well, my little brother’s not the sort to be very happy in Calistar.”

Broken Patterns, Chapter Two

As of Friday, Broken Patterns will be available everywhere!

Devon Mestonie had lived in the palace of his uncle the king for most of his life. His father had a castle and lands of his own, of course. But in all of his fourteen years Devon didn’t think he’d spent more than a handful of months there. His papa said it was because there was a lot of work to do in the capital, and he was needed. His mamma, Lorna, said it was because Samuel and Issac were too close to stand being parted for very long.

In all that time, Devon and his brother Octavian had shared a room in their cousin Michael’s suite of rooms, as royal cousins and first in his court. Now, Octavian was being moved into Michael’s room. But he wasn’t going without making noise.

“Michael’s been dead for only two weeks, and we just can’t wait to shove all of his things aside and move on, can we?” Octavian cried at the head manservant, Peter, as he oversaw the move. Lighting was crackling along his shoulders, a sign that he was losing control of his magic right along with his temper.

“Prince Michael has gone to the arms of The Creator, and your father has been ordained king,” Peter said with a sigh. “That means that you, sir, are the new heir. This was never Prince Michael’s bedroom, it was the bedroom belonging to the heir of Septa, our next ruler. That is you. If you don’t like it, go and speak to your father the king.”

That, Devon decided, was the bit that was bothering him most. “Your father the king.” It had always been your uncle the king before. That left his father just to be papa. To Devon, it felt like their father didn’t belong to them as much as he had before.

Deciding that he wanted none of the fight that was brewing between Peter and Octavian, Devon ducked out into the hall. Sadly, there didn’t seem to be a single quiet place to be found in the whole palace.

He went first to the training rooms, to play with the bows. There he found Dennis Synthia and Oliver Castille, two of the noble boys of the court. Dennis was Lord David’s son, and he looked like it, being the tallest of the court, with the biggest nose. Oliver was, in Devon’s opinion, too pretty for his own good, with hair that he was too fond of caring for.

Devon selected a bow, and started to fit an arrow to the string. “Bet your papa wants you to take up sword work now,” Oliver said.

“Bugger that,” Devon replied. “I’m terrible with a sword.”

“But it’s more princely,” Dennis said, firing his bow.

“I’m not,” Devon replied.

The indoor range was near the conference chamber. The lords and ambassadors were there, apparently having another argument.

“What are they on about now?” Devon asked, listening to the men’s voices rising and falling.

“That man that stayed from the Montelair soldiers,” Oliver said. “My papa thinks that he’s a spy, and he wants him hung.”

“Lord Lewis thinks we ought to march on Montelair,” Dennis said. “He said that we’re taking the word of someone we know nothing about that this wasn’t an act of war on King Kurtis’s part.”

“Except when he said it, there was a lot more swearing,” Oliver said.

Devon fired his bow, sinking the arrow into the very edge of the red target in the center of the butt. “I was hoping for a bit of quiet,” he said.

“Then don’t go out to the outside range,” Dennis said, “Hank and Howard are out there, sparring.”

“Oh, Creator defend us, I wish they’d stop that,” Devon said. “They only get started fighting, and Hank gets mad if Howard uses his magic, even though he knows he’s got no control over it.”

The door to the conference room opened, and the ambassador from Coveline came out. She was a large dragon, thin in body and green in color.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to dragons in the palace,” Dennis whispered.

“Does Ambassador Lau look different from that language master she brought with her?” Oliver asked. “Isn’t she shorter, and fatter?”

“Of course she does,” Devon said. “Ambassador Lau’s a Vondrai dragon. They’re the ruling class. Mistress Risus is a Monnor. They’re more common.”

“Probably shouldn’t call her fat, though,” Oliver laughed.

“I’m going to go find Lenore,” Devon said

“Think she’s in the tower,” Dennis replied.

“How d’you know that?” Oliver asked, smirking.

“Because she’s with Hannah, and Papa likes me to know where my sister is, arse!” Dennis replied, blushing a little.

“Right, I’ll see you later, then,” Devon said. He set the practice bow back in place, and nearly ran to the tower workroom set aside for the thread mages in the palace.

It was Devon’s favorite room. It was circular and huge, with two great fireplaces to keep the cold away in the winter. Every available bit of wall space was covered with hooks that held thread and yarn in all different colors and weights. Great chests were placed beneath them for even more yarn and thread. Comfortable chairs were set around the room for the mages to sit. As his mamma had been the highest ranking thread mage in the palace since their grandmother died, this room did not change hands, and looked just the same as it always had.

Lenore was there, along with Hannah, Ramona, and Victor. Hannah was a heavier girl, with a thick braid tucked over her shoulder. She sat next to Lenore, stitching a bright green vest.

Ramona was the head of the royal nursery. She was an older woman, with a stern face. She knelt before a loom, weaving a tapestry that showed birds flying across a blue sky. Thanks to her magic, the birds were moving.

Lenore sat in the sunlight near a window, spinning the light into her thread.

Victor’s appearance had changed a lot since the first time Devon had seen him. His hair had been cropped short and neat, his facial hair shaved. He dressed as most other men of Septa did, the same sort of cloths that Devon wore, with a jacket, undershirt, and breeches, with high polished leather boots. He stood next to Lenore’s chair, watching her spin with a look of fascination that amused Devon.

“Hello, Prince,” Ramona said when she saw Devon.

“Please, don’t call me that,” Devon replied. He came to her side, and sat next to her on the floor.

“But that’s what we are now, prince and princess,” Lenore said with a grimace. “As though it does us any good. Octavian will be king, and you’ll be his adviser, I’m sure. But I’ll just have more of the lords after me for their sons. Disgusting, as though I’m nothing more than a means to an end.”

“Oh, stop,” Hannah said. “Being a noblewoman is an important calling. We’ve got lands to run, and families to look after. It’s not like you’ll ever be bored.”

“One can be busy and bored at the same time, if the thing one is doing is boring,” Lenore replied.

“Nurse, can I use your hand loom?” Devon asked.

“Sure,” Ramona said.

“You weave?” Victor asked. “Boys do not weave in my country.”

“Boys don’t weave here, either,” Lenore replied. “Just my little brother. And I wouldn’t allow it, but he’s not bad. You just cannot tell Papa.”

“And how am I to avoid telling him anything, being sworn to him and all?” Victor asked. “A man is not a man if he does not take his vows seriously.”

“Well, I don’t think he’ll ask you direct,” Ramona said. She set the loom in front of Devon, and he started to set it with base yarn. “Besides, a talent is a talent, even if it’s unusual.”

Devon smiled at her. “Thank you, Nurse.”

The five of them sat in silence for a while. Victor wandered around the room, glancing out of windows and looking bored, but otherwise everyone stayed still. With the rest of the palace in such a rush with the funerals and Samuel’s coronation, this was a mercy.

Devon’s fingers started to itch while he wove. He stopped to rub his fingers on his breeches, then went back to work.

“Does the king know a group of Montelarians are coming up to the palace?” Victor asked, looking out the window.

“I don’t know,” Devon said.

“He does, and he said so yesterday,” Lenore said with a sigh. “Honestly, Devon, you are so hopeless. Papa sent a messenger up to Kurtis about the attack, and this will be the answer.”

Devon was pulling colors from Ramona’s rag bag at random. He looked at the fabric strip he was making, which should have been a simple striped pattern. Instead, it looked vaguely like a crossbow bolt, black with a thin arrow head and wooden fetches at the back in place of feathered ones. Around it was a pattern of flames.

“How did I do that?” he whispered.

Ramona looked down at his loom. “Well,” she said, “that is a clever little pattern.”

Lenore and Hannah bent over to see as well. “That is a manly thing to weave, I suppose,” Victor said.

“That is good,” Lenore said. “Well, if you can’t sword fight, and you aren’t a mage, at least you are good at something, little brother.”

“Wish my brother did something quiet,” Hannah said.

“Let’s go down and see the people from Montelair,” Lenore said, putting her spinning away. “Maybe Papa will let us sit in on the meeting.”

“Why would you want to do a thing like that?” Lorna asked. “They will only talk about boring matters of state. Surely you would be more interested in going to visit the hounds?”

“I am tired of hearing things secondhand,” Lenore said. “Besides, I’m sure Victor will want to know what’s going to happen.”

“I would like to know later, when the nobility of Montelair cannot see me and have me gutted,” Victor muttered.

“Come on,” Lenore said. Devon shoved his loom back into Ramona’s bag, and followed after her and Hannah.

“Here,” Hannah said, offering Lenore a bit of fabric. “I stitched that, so I’ll be able to hear anyone who talks into it. They’ll probably let you sit closer than me.”

“You ladies really are interested in politics?” Victor asked.

“This is history in the making. How is that not fascinating?” Hannah asked.

“I just want to know what’s going on,” Lenore said. “Men are always making all these decisions and they act like it’s not going to concern us poor little girls at all.”

Samuel and his lords were coming from the conference room as Devon and the others came around the corner. “Papa, may we come meet the delegates from Montelair with you?” Lenore asked.

“Oh, Bug, you’ll be frightfully bored,” Samuel said. “Devon, I didn’t think you had any interest in this sort of thing.”

“I do, Papa,” Devon said.

“And so do I,” Lenore said.

“You may come, but you may not speak,” Samuel said. “Montelair has a different opinion of ladies, and I can’t trust them to act like gentlemen to you, dear.”

“I won’t say a word, Papa,” Lenore said.

They fell into step behind the lords. “How do men treat women in Montelair?” Devon asked Victor.

“Not very well,” Victor replied. “I have not lived here long, but I am already seeing that men are more gentle with women here. You would not like Montelair, I think. We are not gentle with many things.”

The gondola holding the Montelair group was pulling up next to the boardwalk in front of the castle. “I will never get used to not having proper roads here, instead of all these canals,” Victor said.

“I can’t imagine living any other way,” Lenore replied.

“Thought we discussed no talking,” Samuel said.

A man was getting out of the gondola. He looked as different from Victor and the other Montelarians Devon had seen as it was possible to be. He was thin, and so pale that his veins could be seen on his face and neck. His eyes were watery. He wore a red velvet coat, and a large decorative velvet hat, encrusted with gold along the rim.

“What’s the matter with him?” Hannah asked.

“He’s inbred, like all the other aristocracy,” Victor whispered. “Stupid kuo i, weakening their whole line because they think their own people to be inferior.”

“What does that word mean, ‘kuo i?’” Lenore asked.

“It is a not so nice word, Princess,” Victor replied. “I believe in Septa, you would say ‘ass.’”

The man looked around. Devon was sure he’d heard Victor. If he had, though, he made no mention. “I am Vitaly, official ambassador sent by King Kurtis of Montelair,” he said.

“I am Samuel Mestonie,” Samuel said. “I welcome you to our land, and I hope that we can move past the hostilities of the past to a better future for both of our countries.”

Vitaly smiled, “I hope so as well. I see that you’ve contained one of the Broken Chain men for us. Thank you. I’ve brought guards, we will take him into custody.”

Victor hissed. “Should have known I wasn’t getting off so easy,” he muttered.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Samuel said. “That man is my daughter’s bodyguard. He’s working off a debt to the family.”

“Ah,” Vitaly said. “In the interest of friendship, King Samuel, I want to caution against that. These commoners, they are like stray dogs. They will wag their tails for a meal, and happily sleep at the foot of your bed. But in the end, they will always belong to the person who feeds them best.”

“Well, also in the interest of friendship,” Samuel said, crossing his arms over his chest, “let me tell you that Victor knelt under my blade and swore fealty to my family. I don’t know what that means in Montelair, but in Septa we take a man at his word. That’s a Septa man you’re insulting right now, and if you want this conversation to remain ‘friendly’, I’d advise you to stop.”

Vitaly gave the king a gentle wave of his hand. “Of course. No offense meant, I assure you. My apologies.”

Devon’s attention was drawn to the wall. There was movement there, beyond the rhythmic back and forth of the guards marching. One of them had stopped, and was holding a crossbow. It was aimed at Vitaly.

“Papa!” Devon cried, pointing towards the man. Everyone looked up, just as the guard fired.

Samuel’s sword was out in a moment and he swung, throwing a wave of fire at the arrow. It caught, and fell to the ground in cinders. Victor was pulling Devon and Lenore back, as the guards on the wall grabbed the attacker. They pulled his helmet away, to reveal long blond hair.

“That’s one of the men that attacked us,” Lenore cried.

Vitaly’s guards were steadying him, and helping him to brush the ash from his cloths. “That was some very fast magic work, Sire,” he said, with a shaky laugh.

“I think we found your rabid dogs,” Samuel said. “It’s my turn to apologize, I thought we’d swept the palace before your arrival. Come inside, we’ll get you settled with a nice brandy.”

“Yes, that does sound like a good idea,” Vitaly said with a nod.

The king led Vitaly inside, a hand on his shoulder. The others followed, Lenore falling into step beside Devon.

“An arrow,” she said, looking at him sideways.

“What of it?” Devon asked.

“An arrow surrounded by flame,” Hannah added.

“That nice little picture you made, Prince,” Victor said. “Rather prophetic, don’t you think?”

Broken Patterns, Prologue and Chapter One

Broken Patterns will be available everywhere on Friday. For now, here’s chapter one.

Part One

Prologue

I have been so alone for so long. Since the other one cheated me, leaving me in the darkness and cold, I have been alone. I had tried to find another place to bear my egg, my child, but there are precious few warm places in the darkness of the universe. There was nothing I could do, but hold it close to me as it died.

The other one’s child has flourished. Upon it, thousands of species had grown, warm and safe in the light of the sun. The sun that should have been mine.

I can bear this no longer.

Calvin Olendae didn’t believe in me, but that was all right. Men who didn’t believe were just as likely to hear my voice. They are just as likely to call me by my name. I’d spoken to him since he was young, whispering of the sins of Septa, and what he should do to stop them. Now, tonight, it was time.

He led his men through the cold, black waters of the canals, right up to the side of the palace walls.

“Makes you sick, boys,” he whispered, “Those fine nobles snug and warm while our babies freeze to death in the night.”

“I still do not see how starting a war after five years of peace is going to fix that,” Victor muttered from beside him.

“Shut up, Vicky,” Calvin hissed. “Now I know you are not very bright, but I would think this plan was simple enough to understand. Do you think you can manage to take orders for once?”

“Yes, Calvin,” Victor muttered. There was one I would have to keep an eye out for. There was too much light within him.

Without another word, the men crawled from the canals, and took oiled cloth bags out from under their cloths. Even after nearly an hour of swimming through the dark waterways that served Septa as roads, they were still dry inside, thanks to a bit of magic from Calvin’s woman. It was a good thing too. The Septans were far more likely to believe they were actual Montelair soldiers if their red coats weren’t soaking wet.

The men stripped their wet coats, and pulled on the uniforms. Then, Calvin led them to the wall that surrounded the palace.

A guard on the wall saw them coming. “You there, stop!” he yelled, training a crossbow on them.

“Victor,” Calvin said.

Victor walked to the wall. When the guard fired, he held up one hand that glowed blue. The bolt hit it, and bounced off.

Calvin clenched his own hand, and a ball of the same blue light formed. More guards were running along the wall. Calvin waited until they got closer, then tossed the light at the wall.

Even his own men jumped when it burned away in a blast of blue light and dust. He ran through, with the others on his heels.

Inside of the wall, there was panic. I had made sure that Calvin would recognize King Issac Mestonie on sight. He stood in front of his wife and son, holding a sword. As Calvin watched, he swung the sword, and it lit with fire.

“That is a cute trick,” Calvin said, “but I have an even better one.”

He clenched his fist again, and threw another ball at Issac. The king and his family were dead, just like that.

Guards were yelling, and men were running out of the palace. “Calvin,” Victor gasped, “that was a boy you just killed. He could not have been more than fourteen years old.”

“And now he will not reach fifteen,” Calvin replied. “You need to steady yourself for this, boy. This is what war is.”

A nobleman was running from the palace. He drew a sword, and set it afire just as the king had done. “Look, see?” Calvin said. “The nobles are just like weeds. You pull one, and there is always another to take its place. That is why you have to rip them out by the damn roots, Victor. You take that one.”

Victor swallowed, and nodded. He walked towards the man, his hands glowing. Perhaps I could use him eventually. Calvin turned his attention to the guards. The other Brothers worked their way through them as well. Soon the pretty lawn was painted red with blood.

As Calvin stopped to take a breath, he noticed a flicker of light from behind one of the garden trees. He looked, and saw a young woman, no older than fifteen, and a boy of roughly thirteen. They were hugging each other, and obviously trying just to keep out of sight. That was never going to be possible, with her dress decked out in embroidery that light up like a lantern. The blessing of The One, the one they called The Creator was on her. They were nobles from the looks of them, with that same Mestonie curly black hair.

Calvin started towards them, already pulling together another ball. The girl saw him coming, and held the boy closer. “You get back!” she said.

“How like a noble,” Calvin laughed. “Never knowing when to stop giving orders.”

He started to pull his arm back to throw, but suddenly someone grabbed him from behind. He looked, and saw Victor.

“Let me go!” he yelled, wrenching his arm free. What was he doing?

“Calvin, you cannot keep doing this!” Victor yelled. “Think about what Da would say if he knew you were killing girls.”

“I do not give a damn what Da would have said,” Calvin said. “Any noble that is left over can start this whole mess again.”

Victor stepped in between him and the children. “This was not the plan! We were supposed to just attack, make them think we were soldiers, and leave. You already killed one child, will you kill two more? Look at them, Calvin, that girl is the same age as June!”

“And if I have to kill her to make sure June and my other children survive, I will do it!” Calvin cried. “Now move!”

Victor held up his hands. “No,” he said.

Calvin swelled with fury. “How dare you?” he hissed. “How dare you choose these noble hounds over your own family? Who raised you after Da died? Who put clothes on your ungrateful back?”

“That is why I have got to stop you. How much innocent blood do you want on your hands?”

“There is no innocent blood on my hands, little brother,” Calvin said. He threw the ball.

Victor caught it, and it knocked him back into the noble children. The girl tried to catch him, but all three of them went down. Victor cried out in pain as he landed, but he still didn’t move away from them. “You would really kill me, just to kill them?” he yelled.

Calvin looked down at him. “I do not even have to think about it that hard.” He raised his hand to form another ball. Before he could, though, he was hit from the side by an arrow. He gasped in pain, and another arrow struck his leg. He turned to run back toward the canal, and another arrow hit him in the back. Calvin stumbled, and fell into the black water. In too much agony to swim, he sank into the darkness.

Damn. And I had wasted so much time on him. Oh well, at least there was the other one. But, then, there was also that girl. There was light in her, yes. But perhaps there was room for darkness as well.

Chapter One

Lenore Mestonie pulled her little brother, Devon, close to her. She tried to catch her breath. The boy who’d saved them scrambled to his feet, and ran towards the canal. She wanted to scream for him to come back, that there were other soldiers who might still hurt them, and she still couldn’t even see her brother Octavian, but then she realized how foolish that was. She didn’t even know this boy, after all.

Devon was struggling out of her grasp. “Michael was hurt, Lenore,” he cried. “We’ve got to check on him.”

“What are we going to do, stupid?” Lenore snapped. “Just stay here with me until we see Papa.”

Septa soldiers were running through the garden, trying to round up the Montelarians. Lenore saw some of them get away, and she hoped that they all drowned in the canals like their leader.

Samuel, her father, was running out into the garden, followed by the other men of the court. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and a head and beard of thick black hair. He was looking around, as though trying to figure out what was going on. Lenore had to admit that it was very difficult to guess, given the chaos.

A guard was kneeling over Uncle Issac. He looked up, his face pale, and announced to no one in particular, “The king is dead!”

“Prince Michael, too!” someone cried. Lenore looked toward them, to find that it was her younger brother Octavian, the middle of the children, holding their cousin Michael in his arms and sobbing.

Lenore looked back at her father. His strong face was ashen. He took a deep breath, and then another. Finally, he walked over to her. “Bug,” he said, kneeling in front of her, “tell me what happened here.”

“Uncle Issac brought Devon, Michael and me out to see the bats leave the tower,” Lenore said. “Then the wall, well, it just sort of exploded, and those Montelair soldiers came running through. The biggest one shot some sort of light ball at Uncle Issac, Aunt Grace, and Michael. I grabbed Devon, and we hid here, but the soldier saw us. He would have killed us, but that boy over there saved our lives.” She nodded her head towards the boy kneeling next to the canal.

“Papa, I thought we were at peace with Montelair,” Devon whispered.

“No tears, Devon,” Samuel said. “Look at your sister, she’s not crying.” Lenore thought that was a very near thing.

“I know that we were at peace with Montelair, and I’ve no idea why they’ve decided to attack us now,” Samuel said, getting to his feet, “but we will find out.”

“It was not Montelair,” said the boy.

Everyone looked towards him, as he rose to his feet, and turned. “It was not the king that sent us,” he repeated. “It was the Brothers of the Broken Chain. My older brother, Calvin, he was leading them. I was only along to try to stop him.”

Samuel pulled his sword, and swung it, lighting the blade on fire. “Not another step closer, not yet,” he said. “It was your brother who was leading, so it was him that killed my brother, the king?”

“And it is him that is now dead, at the bottom of your canal,” Victor said. His Montelarian accent was thick. Lenore had thought that he was a boy, but looking at his face, she realized that he had to be at least twenty-three. His roughly cut blond hair hung in wet strands around his face.

“Papa, don’t hurt him,” Lenore said. “He saved us.”

“Who are you?” Samuel asked.

“My name is Victor Olendae. I was a member of the Brotherhood of the Broken Chain.”

“And why did you save my children?” Samuel asked.

“Because I did not want to see more innocent lives taken because my brother could not tell an enemy from a bystander. Because it was the right thing to do.”

“So, what am I to do with you now?” Samuel asked.

Lenore was astonished at how calm her father sounded. She wondered if anyone else noticed how his hands were shaking on the handle of his sword.

Samuel walked up to Victor. “I’ll make you a deal, Victor Olendae. You swear your fealty to me, and I’ll spare your life. I’ll give you a job, and a place in my household. Otherwise, I’ll hold you accountable for your brothers’ crimes.”

“So, my choices are death or slavery?” Victor asked.

“Fealty isn’t slavery,” Lenore snapped. “It’s a promise of loyalty and service. A slave is a bought and paid for possession, and slavery is a filthy practice. There haven’t been any slaves in Septa since my family overthrew the old church.”

One of the noblemen, Lord David, cleared his throat. Lenore looked over at him. He was a taller man, with more nose than his face really needed. “Prince Samuel, we are awaiting your orders,” he said.

“Oh,” Samuel said. “I suppose you must be. Yes, Victor, please look after my children while I get this mess sorted, will you?”

He wandered towards David, calling for guards to collect Issac and Michael, to sweep the grounds in case any more rebels were hiding, and to rouse the ambassadors.

Victor walked up to Lenore, who was just getting to her feet, pulling Devon along with her. “Your dress shines,” he said.

“I am a thread mage, I spin light into yarn,” Lenore said. “Thank you for saving us. I am sorry that you lost your brother.”

“I am sorry that you lost family as well,” Victor said. “I tried to stop the whole thing several times on the way here. This is not how my people should gain their freedom from our king.”

Octavian stumbled up to them. “Lenore,” he asked, “is Papa the king now?”

Lenore looked at him. For a moment, she had a hard time remembering what the words he’d used meant. King wasn’t a title, king was her uncle.

Finally, though, she said, “I think so.”

An exciting announcement for Broken Patterns

Announcement time!

This took a little longer than I planned, for many reasons. I’m still caring for my husband, who had a stroke in December. February is hard for me emotionally. The news depresses me every day. And I forgot to uncheck a box on my Amazon listing. Such is the life of a writer in today’s world.

But today, I’m proud to announce that Broken Patterns is going wide on April 25th!

In Devon and Lenore’s world, magic is as common as turning a pot or fletching an arrow. What isn’t common is a man with thread magic. When Devon starts weaving prophetic tapestries, his royal family tries to keep it a secret.

But the family can’t stay in the shadows when Devon’s uncle is assassinated and he becomes second in line for the throne. Especially when he weaves a vision of destruction for the dragon lands.

This means that instead of being an Amazon exclusive, Broken Patterns will be available wherever you buy e-books. And over the next few months, the other books in the series will join her.

And yes, this is the third time Broken Patterns has had a launch day. So this is technically a relaunch of a relaunch.

Broken Patterns is always going to be an incredibly important book to me. It’s the first book I ever finished and published. And I think it’s a great story.

And this is the first time it’s been available outside of Amazon ever! I think it’s about time she was available to people who aren’t huge fans of the massive site.

So I hope that if you’ve always wanted to read Broken Patterns but didn’t have access to it, this allows you to grab it. I’m sure you’ll love meeting Devon, the boy who weaves visions, and Lenore, the girl who spins light.

What I learned launching four books in four months

Last year, I launched four books in four months. It was a massive project that took the better part of a year to do. But it’s done now. Well, at least it’s mostly done. We’ll get to that in a bit.

Launching one book is a project. Launching four in four months is something I will probably not do again.

And then, of course, while I was just at the tail end of this marathon of launches, the unthinkable happened.

Was it a success? Well, the books are out, and they’re selling, so I guess so. Could I have done more? The answer is always yes. The answer is also always no. So, let’s talk about what I learned during this marathon of launches.

It’s going to take so much more time than you think it will

This is the most crucial thing to keep in mind before you even start. Everything, and I do mean everything, is going to take more time than you think it will. At no point during this past year did I think, wow, I’m ahead of schedule and everything is going smoothly. Promoting takes time. Writing additional content takes time. All the little minute details of launching take time. And all of it is going to take more time than you think it will. Especially if you’ve never done this before. Keep this in mind for the next part.

Plan everything out ahead of time

When I decided to relaunch Woven, the first thing I did was sit down and make a plan. And, being the anxious person that I am, I planned everything down to the day. When was I going to make promo material? When was I going to write and post? What sort of blog posts was I going to write that had something to do with Woven so I’d get the right audience to look at the book? When was I ordering covers? When was I announcing covers? When would the presale go up?

Most importantly, when was I going to need to take breaks? When was I going to be busy with family stuff and holiday stuff and not be able to full steam ahead on this massive project? Remember, I work a full-time job. And I had decided to launch these books during the holiday season. Now, if I ever do this again, I’ll certainly plan to do it earlier. But as I had the glorious idea of having all four books available for holiday gifts, my path was sort of set already. So I needed to make sure I had some time blocked out for family and holiday time.

This includes promotional planning

I of course had a promotional calendar ready. Before I announced a launch, I had a five-month promotional calendar set up which included what books I’d be promoting and how during which times. Even if this just meant what book I’d be posting about on Instagram, I knew.

This was important to me because I tend to suffer from decision fatigue. And when I’m already thinking of a hundred things that need to be done, need decided on and need attention right now, little things get lost. So having a written plan of action I could just follow took a few decisions off my mind. And there were days I needed that.

The work starts long before you even announce a launch date

As I mentioned before, the work to relaunch Woven started much earlier in the year. Remember, I actually launched five books last year, including Nova. The work for this marathon year started in December of the year before. I was already planning and working on the material and details. So if you’re planning to do something like this, plan for it to be a long-term project. Rapid releases only look rapid to those outside. To you, it’s going to be a long, slow process.

Plan for the unexpected

I’ll be the first to say that my launches went surprisingly smoothly. There were no issues with Amazon. The covers came back on time and looked great. There were no technical issues at all.

But that doesn’t mean things went to plan. As you might already know, my husband suffered a severe stroke in December. He was hospitalized for a month before he could be released to a rehab facility. As I write this on February 4th, he is only coming home today. And so a lot of the things I’d planned to do, like be on podcasts and do guest blogs and a bunch of other fun promotional stuff got put on the back burner.

Thanks to all of the heavy lifting I’d done at the start of the project, I was still able to release all four books. Because by the time the stroke happened, everything was pretty much set up on autopilot. I didn’t have to think about whether the book would come out on time or the sale prices would go up because I’d already seen to that.

The point is, to be ready for things to go wrong. Because really, anything could happen. This is why it’s important to plan far in advance and don’t announce a launch date until everything, and I mean everything, is ready to go.

The work doesn’t end when the books are out

Finally, I’m still working on this launch. Because this is, again, a huge project. While I delayed a lot of outreach promotions, I didn’t cancel them. And, of course, there’ll be some buzz when the books go wide. (Spoiler, that’s starting sometime soon)

Promoting and selling a book doesn’t stop once it’s out. It’s kind of a long term thing. Which in a way is a huge relief. I don’t need to rush. I don’t need to feel like I messed up my launch by not being on ten podcasts last month. I can streatch out. I can get to things when I get to them.

I can go at my own pace, and so can you.

So now I want to hear what you think. Would you ever consider doing a rapid release? Let me know in the comments.

If you want to support Paper Beats World, or get some exclusive stories and writing planners, you can do so on Ko-fi.

You can also get my Novel Planner! Make a plan and get writing with this thirteen page planner.

Falling From Grace launches today!

For me, this day is over ten years in the making. Ten years of ups and downs, twists and turns I never saw coming, and the overwhelming need to have this story out in the world.

No matter how I had to do it.

Falling From Grace is now available. All of Woven is now available for the first time since April 2023.

It’s been a lot of work, waiting and praying, but it’s all been worth it to finally have this series out in the world again for all of you to enjoy.

Please let me know what you think of the story. I’m so excited to be able to share Grace with all of you. Especially going into the holiday season.

Stay tuned, there’s a lot more to come.

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