Swords and Sorceries Vol 6 - Review

Review of Swords and Sorceries, Volume 6 

I won't rate this review, since I'm in it. But I will say, as a fan of the genre, I would not be disappointed if I'd bought this collection instead of getting a contributor copy. Here's my take, then, on Swords and Sorceries – Tales of Heroic Fantasy, Volume 6 (Amazon associate link) from Parallel Universe Publications, edited by David A. Riley (340 pages, paperback, published May, 2023).

Table of Contents:

• Introduction by David A. Riley
• 'Land of the Dead' by Dev Agarwal
• 'The House of Bones' by Carson Ray
• 'Threnody of Ghosts' by Phil Emery
• 'Wardark and the Siren Queen' by Craig Herbertson
• 'Otrim' by Lyndon Perry
• 'Gods, Men, and Nephilim' by David Dubrow
• 'Golden Witch of Adzelgar' by Scott McCloskey
• 'Raiding the Graveyard of Lost Ships' by Tais Teng
• 'A Place of Ghosts' by Andrew Darlington
• 'Those Who Wear Their White Hair Proudly' by Lauren C. Teffeau
• 'Trails for Treasure' by Harry Elliott
• 'God of the Dreaming Isles' by Adrian Cole

As part of the ToC, I'll mostly talk about what I liked in each tale and highlight a few adventures that I really enjoyed. But my quick take is that this collection of 12 stories is a veritable feast of sword and sorcery – featuring an exciting variety of plots and tropes and offering something different for every kind of S&S fan. I think you'll enjoy diving into this sixth volume from PUP. I know I did.

Opening the collection is the editor's introduction of each of the authors. Most of the biographies, I assume, were provided by the contributors, but Riley adds a bit of commentary and ties the notes together in a comprehensive preface. I'm used to searching the appendices for author bios, so this was a nice change of pace, to be introduced to the writers ahead of reading their stories.

The first tale, “Land of the Dead,” is by Dev Agarwal whose hero, Baron Simeon (the Stone Snake), is captured, travels to the land of the dead, only to awaken in a stupor, finding himself facing a powerful opponent in a gladiator style fight to the death. This is the first Stone Snake tale I've read and it does feel like an episode in his and Princess Irene's ongoing quest to return home. Which is not a bad thing, per se. A lot of S&S tales are serial adventures within an overarching quest. It was easy to deduce that, in a previous tale, the Princess was abducted; and Agarwal's series evidently recounts the main characters' travels and plans to be reunited with the Emperor. A solid stand-alone installment in the author's fantasy universe, and one that will likely prompt a reader unfamiliar with Baron Simeon to track down more of his escapades.

Next up, “The House of Bones” by Carson Ray, features the swordsman Knox as he tracks down a Doctor Grim, an evil practitioner of the dark (and gruesome) arts of torture. This is a chilling tale well told – from Knox's clever entrance into the dungeon in order to complete his mission to his horrifying exit. This hero is one I'd like to get to know more about, and while I enjoyed this story, I wasn't completely sure what to think of him. Perhaps this is the slight downside to writing stories in a series – fans of the hero know the backstory, but new readers might be missing a bit of characterization. Still, a solid telling and a pretty gripping one at that.

I have to admit, I didn't quite get Phil Emery's “Threnody of Ghosts.” First, I had to look up the word threnody. This tells you more about me than the author, obviously. Also 'about me' – I'm not that well-versed in poetry; and this story certainly has a literary and lyrical quality to it that was, unfortunately, lost on me. I'm more of a traditionally-told tale type of reader – and I did enjoy the stand-off between Zain and the Banshees – but I was uncertain as to the story's conclusion and just what it all meant.

“Wardark and the Siren Queen” by Craig Herbertson is a novelet and well-placed in this volume. I was a bit confused at the beginning as to the parallel story lines and their times and settings, but eventually figured it out. As Riley mentions in the introduction, Wardark is a reiver, “doomed by the sorcerer Xianthus on a perilous quest where he must face the Siren Queen and the knights of the evil King Smaragd.” This is a battle heavy tale, full of action and derring-do as our hero leads his men to overcome their enemies. It climaxes with a shocking but satisfying ending, albeit with an expected 'there's more adventures to come' epilogue foreshadowing an eventual showdown between Wardark and Xianthus.

“Otrim” is my contribution to the anthology. It's a coming of age story featuring a young boy of the jungle, taken captive by raiders, who nevertheless survives the test of manhood. It's the origin story of my hero, the man Otrim who has left his traumatic past behind and risen in status to become Queen Philipa of Idessa's trusted paladin. That story is related in my short novel, The Sword of Otrim (Amazon associate link) by Lyndon Perry.

David Dubrow's “Gods, Men, and Nephilim” has a Celtic setting with a Pax Romana flavor. The premise is intriguing and the storytelling delivers – our heroes are Palaemon, an ex-Legionnaire, and his sister Abelia, a conduit and priestess for the water god, Tiberinus. They are (again from the intro by Riley) “tasked with killing a necromancer who just happens to be the son of a god!” Along the way they meet a Naphil who has a quest of his own to fulfill. It's a complicated plot that resolves in a surprising way, and points to a larger spiritual reality behind the gods and goddesses of the Roman pantheon. Very creative and one of my favorites, though the ending is not what one might expect from what purports to be a 'simple' quest tale. (At 40 pages this novelet is the longest in the book, I believe.)

In “Golden Witch of Adzelgar” by Scott McCloskey we have a first-person tale of a long-dead champion of the Ysir, the horsemaidens and sword wielders of an ancient people. An overconfident witch named Cyrilia, along with a bumbling lackey named Bartho, resurrects the revenant, invoking a rite that is supposed to bind the warrior to Cyrilia's purposes, to defend her people. As another reviewer put it, the champion's appellation of 'Blood of Ten Thousand' and 'End of Days' “should have been taken as a hint” as to what kind of help this dead-now-alive woman of the Ysir would provide. An exciting, action-packed story with some otherworldly twists, intriguing characters, and thought-provoking ending. Another favorite.

A second story in this volume I didn't quite understand was Tais Teng's “Raiding the Graveyard of Lost Ships.” It's set in Clark Ashton Smith's far-future world of Zothique, the Earth's final continent. Queen Desmei and her assassin accomplice, Avende, meet up with a sorcerer named Hamarid who is to assist them in plundering the Graveyard of Lost Ships. Some trickery and double-crossing ensue, but I wasn't able to grasp who the real villain was. In the end, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to admire or despise Desmei. When I read such stories, I never blame the author, I just assume I missed some important, though subtle, clues the writer has woven into the story which other readers, I'm sure, will get.

Another story that features a hero (well, in this case, an assassin) with previously published adventures is “A Place of Ghosts” by Andrew Darlington. I'd not read any of the author's other 'Eternal Assassin' stories so I have nothing to compare it to, but I thought this one pretty good. When I found out the backstory (by contacting Andrew directly), I liked the premise even more. Not all of his stories that feature this character are sword and sorcery. Since the assassin is a supernatural/immortal being, he moves from one host body to the next, living through the centuries, experiencing tales from every age and epoch. I'll have to track down more Darlington's Eternal Assassin stories.

The only reprint in this volume, I think, is Lauren C. Teffeau's “Those Who Wear Their White Hair Proudly.” Intriguing premise, though I didn't particularly warm to the idea that young girls are basically kidnapped to form the next generation of guardians. I would think being chosen for the task of fighting dragons would be an honor and the village would celebrate young Sidika's new path. Plus, I wish I understood the background mythos a bit more in order to cheer for the young warrior in training. Yet for this 'coming of age' story, the author chose this narrative path. (As a fellow writer, it's frustrating to hear others say something like: “If I were writing this story, I would do such and such...” but I'm not the writer, Lauren Teffeau is. So I'm not telling the author to do such and such, lol. All I can say is that it didn't quite work for me as a reader, but others will have different opinions, I'm sure.) Still, the ending turned out to be pretty satisfying and the storytelling was solid.

A good 'band of brothers' tale is “Trails for Treasure” by Harry Elliott, though one of the band is a female warrior who befriends a young woman runaway who is determined to return to her village to set things right. With the prospect of silver, one of the team, Gul by name, reluctantly agrees. With a bit of humor, great character chemistry, an adventurous plot, a tense fight scene or two, and an encounter with a giant, Elliott has provided us a strong story traditionally told. A good tale placed in a good spot in the anthology.

This volume concludes with “God of the Dreaming Isles” by Adrian Cole as well it should. The story is mythic in nature, set in the days of Atlantis, the Druids, and the gods. It's a high seas adventure as well, with our heroes captured by the Dreaming Isles for a purpose only the gods know. It's a creative tale with some tension, of course, with pathos and uncertainty but ultimately uplifting and satisfying. A nice finish to the collection. 

Conclusion: I'd definitely recommend Swords and Sorceries, Volume 6 for fans of the genre.

P.S. I had the privilege of editing my own sword and sorcery anthology in 2023 titled, Swords & Heroes (Amazon associate link). This collection contains tales by two writers appearing in PUP's Volume 6: Adrian Cole and  editor David A. Riley. Here's my blurb.

Swords & Heroes – A Sword and Sorcery Anthology – features 12 exciting tales of heroic adventure from some of the best writers in the genre today. Included are stories by Charles Gramlich, Gustavo Bondoni, Michael T. Burke, Teel James Glenn, Tom Doolan, Nancy Hansen, Tim Hanlon, Frank Sawielijew, Cliff Hamrick, J. Thomas Howard, David A. Riley, and Adrian Cole; along with a foreword by Jason M Waltz as well as a roundtable discussion of the current state of sword and sorcery.

Review of Laws and Prophecies by LS King

Laws and Prophecies by LS King

Laws and Prophecies is the fourth book (Book 3, actually, plus a prequel) in L.S. King's Sword's Edge Chronicles. I had the privilege of beta reading her first sword & planet novel, Sword's Edge, about ten years ago or more and very much enjoyed her world-building. “Sword & Planet” is kind of like science fiction in a fantasy setting – a medieval world but manipulated by aliens with superior technology.

The series follows a clan of Rangers charged with keeping order in their home world. They were colonized there by the Enaisi, an advanced civilization that gave them a charter on how to live simply and peaceably. Of course, life on this new planet is not paradise and thus the adventures in this series.

Here's the blurb to Sword's Edge Chronicles Book Three, Laws and Prophecies:

Thane Alcandhor is assailed from all sides: treason within his clan, conspiracies from kin, and turmoil due to the return of the aliens known as the Enaisi. When hit by a final onslaught—rebellion by provincial lords threatening to set up their own despotic princedoms, Alcandhor is forced to choose between upholding their laws and fulfilling ancient, haunting prophecies.

So yes, there are prophecies but they aren't the typically annoying fantasy world prophecies that populate so many YA sagas. Sword's Edge involves an expansive plot, is broad in scope yet tightly told, and features characters you'll care about.

My only complaint about this 'final' book is that it's not the final installment. I felt the story could have ended without a cliff-hanger about 100 pages prior to the cliff-hanger ending and would have been more satisfying as a stand-alone story. But heh, it means there's another novel coming some day!

Recommended for those who enjoy relatively clean adventure stories (no real cussing, although there is some violence) along with a space and fantasy setting. Here's the Goodreads series page.

Review of The Viking Gael by J.T.T. Ryder

The Viking Gael Saga by J.T.T. Ryder 

The Viking Gael Saga by J.T.T. Ryder (Amazon associate link. Released March 14, 2023. About 156 pages.) 

This novel (the first in a proposed series) chronicles the coming of age adventures of a young Norse man named Asgeir. Tragedy befalls the teen, and he is conscripted into the service of a Viking raider named Ulf to pay off his father’s debts. When they reach Ireland and meet up with Asgeir’s father, he’ll be given back the family sword, Gael-Kisser.

In Book 1, however, we remain in Norway where Asgeir must learn to fight like a true Viking. Since his mother is Irish, we’re promised by the series’ title that, one day, he’ll become The Viking Gael. Until then, the young man longs for the day he can take out his revenge against the ruthless and conniving Ulf.

This is a historical novel set, as the blurb indicates, in AD 870. This era and setting is the author’s wheelhouse as Mr. Ryder (soon to earn his PhD) is an expert in Viking and Iron Age archaeology. So the references to daily life, local titles, customs, and swordplay all ring true. (There is also a short appendix giving more context and details about life back then which was very interesting.)

The story itself is fairly well told, but the narrative is interwoven with a number of first person thoughts so that we ‘hear’ Asgeir’s inner commentary about the events he’s experiencing. This was distracting for me at first, but I got used to it. However, it did not warm me to the young man. In fact, he came off as a young, naïve brat at times.

But, this is a coming-of-age story of sorts and so there is room for Asgeir to grow. And I hope he does become that noble figure foreshadowed by the novel’s title. I look forward to reading further adventures in this series and see just what type of hero he turns out to be.

Overall, a solid 4.5 Stars with a language warning. Recommended to those interested in sword and sorcery (although there is no sorcery, per se, simply references to Pagan rituals and beliefs); and, as another reviewer has stated, fans of The Last Kingdom and Vikings television series will likely enjoy this book. (Note: I received an ARC of this novel from the author, and first reviewed on Goodreads.)

More: Visit J.T.T. Ryder's website, Old World Heroism, for more information on his books.

Also: Read DMR's interview with Mr. Ryder at their Independent Author Spotlight.

My Review of Feast of Fools and Other Tales

Anthology Review by Lyndon Perry

Feast of Fools and Other Tales, edited by Robert Poyton; an Innsmouth Gold Book (Nov 2022, 250 pages, available on Amazon and other platforms). Includes 11 stories of sword and sorcery. 

Start with a disclaimer: I’m in this antho (my story is “To Tame a Demon”) so I won’t review it as I would a collection that I have no connection with, but I will share a few thoughts below on the stories and authors in the ToC.

Quick take: I enjoyed the 11 tales (including mine!) and would recommend the collection to fantasy fans in general and sword and sorcery fans in particular. Though I liked all of them, I had a few favorites, including: “The Horn of Tur” by H. R. Laurence; “The Rotting Goddess” by B. Harlan Crawford; “The Lucky Thief” by Tim Mendees; and “Wind” by Russell Smeaton.

1) In “The Horn of Tur,” Laurence offers an exciting escape and attempted rescue tale featuring our hero Heodric, who is to be sacrificed to the bull-god Tur. There’s a good fight scene, a monster that actually occasions some sympathy, and a nice turn of events at the end.

2) The second story is mine, “To Tame a Demon.” It involves an ambitious and devious wizard who bargains with a few devils in his quest to become the most powerful mage of the Seven Manors. I actually wrote this a few years ago and it never quite worked. When I found out about Feast of Fools, I tweaked and edited it and evidently the story finally worked well enough to be included in this volume.

3) This titular tale by Poyton features Llorc, who is the hero of six novels (check out the author’s The Wolf Who Would BeKing saga) and a collection of stories, including this antho’s “The Feast of Fools.” Feast is a solid quest and revenge tale where our thief – facing sorcery and powerful spells – meets up with an unlikely accomplice, each aiding the other in their separate goals. Nicely told. I hope to read the first novel in Poyton’s Wolf saga soon.

4) The heroine of “The Rotting Goddess” by Crawford is Seanai who takes on a mercenary task for a grieving couple. All is not as it seems, however, and the gruesome sacrifice to the slug-god Lugloth goes awry – thanks to Seanai, of course. This fantasy is a good example of the author’s penchant for writing sorcerous horror. Check out some of his other tales featuring our heroine in the free Whetstone: Amateur Magazine of Pulp Sword andSorcery.

5) “The Colour of Decay” by Ashley Dioses is an intriguing blend of the senses and sorcery and creative magic. The heroine Adara meets the spider-god, Atlach-Nacha, and comes to a surprising end. This one fits nicely with the rest in this volume because of its different feel.

6) Tim Mendees tells a rollicking tale about “The Lucky Thief” – although we wonder throughout the telling if our hero, Rivvens, is all that lucky. Mendees is a good writer, adding humor to the grotesque and alternating between a tavern setting where the story is being told and the flashback sequences that unfold the adventure. I’ll definitely be looking up more of his stories. Tim also has a YouTube Channel where he hosts an excellent podcast. Check it out this show where he hosts the Feast of FoolsLaunch Party. 

7) In “Wind” by Russell Smeaton we have another quest tale – this time set in the frozen north – with an unexpected series of unfolding disasters. The chill, the wind, the eerie and horrible atmosphere – along with the utter carnage the monster beast of a god wreaks – just wow! Good storytelling and an author I need to look up.

8) Gavin Chappell’s “The Haunter of the Catacombs” describes his anti-hero perfectly as a thief and a liar – and Talon’s character flaws and misadventures get him into some pretty dire circumstances. This is a darkly humorous quest with two storylines (the other featuring Elenara) that converge, the story ending with a perfect set up to introduce more tales featuring an adventuring male/female duo. I had the privilege of reading another Talon and Elenara story and Chappell assures me more adventures are on their way.

9) “Skyfall” by Glynn Owen Barrass is a fun and fascinating blend of SF, fantasy horror, and future (i.e., lost technology) magic. A short, charming, and thoughtful tale with just the right amount of tension and danger, along with a bit of humor at the end. It was well done.

10) Shelly de Cruz, who also created the cover art and interior illos for this volume, offers a solid showdown adventure in “The Guide, the General, and the Priest.” After a long and dangerous trek, Tehmjin, our mercenary guide, engages in an exciting and climactic encounter with a rogue priest-turned-sorcerer, finally retrieving the object of the group’s quest. Of course, he ultimately says farewell to his traveling companions to head off toward his home country leaving me wanting to follow along and watch him get in and out of more scrapes. Very enjoyable.

11) The final entry is by Lee Clarke Zumpe and is titled, “One Sword Against the Gluttonous Gods.” The story features another rogue priest, but this time the protagonist is the one and fifty year old Emperor Tumen. Zumpe’s is a rich fantasy world with a lot to explore and caps off the collection with an epic tale of mayhem, magic, and sorcery.

Overall impression: editor Robert Poyton pulls together an enjoyable collection of heroic adventures that will likely appeal to fans of the wider genre of fantasy fiction. Not all the entries are tales of sword and sorcery, strictly speaking (mine certainly wasn’t), but the storytelling is fairly solid throughout and most authors wrap up their tales in a satisfying manner.

Quite a few of these adventures showcase an endearing anti-hero mercenary who deigns to guide his charges on some dangerous quest. And while there are similarities in trope, each tale has its own unique take on the plot’s direction and conclusion. While I won’t rate this antho, I will say I’m proud to be a part of it!

(Note: Amazon affiliate links throughout.)

Review of Jarek the Scholar by Cliff Hamrick

Jarek the Scholar: Adventures in Ebesu

by Cliff Hamrick (Amazon author page)
Fiery Blade Publishing (September, 2022)
Sword & Sorcery Fantasy, 165 pages

This short collection of fast-paced, high adventures features Hamrick's cerebral-leaning hero, Jarek the Scholar, as he travels a foreign land, adrift after a significant personal loss as well as being cast out of his family. His wits and sword are all that he has left.

Although we never quite discover his full backstory, we're along for a thrilling ride as Jarek makes his own way in the world - to prove himself, to gain wealth, reputation...and a little self-respect. He's good in a fight, but better with his wits, and the mysteries he solves are dark, dangerous, and intriguing.

Hamrick sets up a number of fascinating scenarios in a classic sword and sorcery setting full of strange and horrific monsters and cosmic powers. I first stumbled upon this series when the author posted a freebie in a Facebook group I'm in, Poison in the Dark. Here's my Goodreads review of that short tale:

Enjoyed this clever fantasy thieving adventure novelet featuring Jarek (my first exposure to this character and first story I've read by Cliff Hamrick). I thought I'd stumbled upon sword and sorcery erotica the way the story opens (so reader beware!) but the tale quickly unfolds into a fun and plot twisty romp. Very well done and a series I may want to get into.

S&S erotica? Sign you, up, you say? Simmer down, dear reader. Most of Hamrick's stories don't go there. Some are dark, others a bit lighter, but almost all of them I've read have been quite enjoyable. Here's the Table of Contents of Adventures in Ebesu...

The Silent Ship, Desert Nightshade, The Grand Theater, Star of Uskuk, City of the Dead, The Crystal Flame, and The Blue Butterfly. This last one appears only in this collection - the others can be found as stand-alones. If you are in Kindle Unlimited, find them there.

I've also read The Secret in the Library and The Cure for the Sleeping Woman; currently reading Battle for the Blood Oak. I believe the only Jarek adventure I haven't read is The Priestess of Callata and that's because there's a naked woman on the cover. Perhaps another S&S erotica tale? You'll have to let me know! ;-)

If you enjoy sword and sorcery adventure fantasy with a different take on the genre's typical anti-hero, then check out Cliff Hamrick's Jarek the Scholar stories. Recommended for mature readers. 4.5 Stars.

Review of Animal Farm by George Orwell

Animal Farm
by George Orwell

One of the classics I must have missed in high school. A timeless story, however, which should be read at any age or stage of life. It's such a transparent allegory of the Bolshevik Revolution and the ensuing years of Leninist terror (e.g., the use of 'comrade' throughout and the lead pig named, of course, Napoleon, a symbol of tyranny) that it reads almost like history, despite the zoomorphism and fantastical premise of animals running a farm.

And yet, it's not an allegory. Orwell subtitled this piece, "A Fairy Story." And that's about right. The story, like all good fairy stories, transcends time and context and simply "tells it like it is" without moral comment. I think it's obvious this is a story about totalitarianism (Orwell was a strong critic of the ideology) but Animal Farm doesn't so much condemn it as expresses it in its logical extreme - and let's the truth of the matter hit the reader full force. The most compelling "truth" of totalitarianism comes near the climax, the famous observation that all animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others. Hnh, boy.

One application for today is poignant. The regressive left (with roots in the sexual revolution of the 1960s) has overthrown what they think is the tsarist autocracy of Christendom (in their minds equal to white male privilege) and declared all genders, gender identities, gender expressions, etc. equal. "Multi-sexes good, two sexes bad." But what the regressive left has done is simply established a new totalitarianism in which all dissent is quashed and thoughts are censored. Well, there's more to say but that's probably enough to show I recommend this book today, especially for leftist leaning teachers of high school lit. I only hope they see the irony of the message they want to discuss.

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Review of Something Wicked This Way Comes

Something Wicked This Way Comes
by Ray Bradbury

Confession. I don't have a review exactly since I didn't read the book exactly. I listened to an audio adaptation, which I think was Bradbury's own dramatization of his novel. It was a pretty good production, but I think it was a different experience than reading the story.

Here's the blurb from the publisher: A carnival rolls in sometime after the midnight hour on a chill Midwestern October eve, ushering in Halloween a week before its time. A calliope's shrill siren song beckons to all with a seductive promise of dreams and youth regained. In this season of dying, Cooger & Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show has come to Green Town, Illinois, to destroy every life touched by its strange and sinister mystery. And two inquisitive boys standing precariously on the brink of adulthood will soon discover the secret of the satanic raree-show's smoke, mazes, and mirrors, as they learn all too well the heavy cost of wishes - and the stuff of nightmare.

That does capture the essence, but it's really not that scary of an adventure. More of a coming-of-age story set within the weird and horrific world of life, death, and what's in between. Overall, 3 1/2 stars (or 4 since it's a classic). What I didn't know was that this novel is the second of four in the Green Town series. Interesting! Book one is Dandelion Wine, imagine that! 

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Quick Review of Grendel

Grendel
by John Gardner

I should rate this higher than 2 1/2 out of 5 Stars because, you know, literature.

But, alas, it just didn't grab me. It seems like it was written for a college lit discussion group, but one where everyone knew what the author was trying to accomplish except me. I had to constantly refer to Sparks Notes online to figure out what I was supposed to be getting, but even then I didn't get it.

Anyone else have that difficulty? Sorry Mr Gardner.

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Review of The Light of Eidon

Review by Timothy C. Ward

Karen Hancock has made a significant contribution to the genre of Christian Fantasy with her novel, The Light of Eidon. Her allegories are illuminating, accurate to biblical truth and very creative. I enjoyed her characters and how they came from so many viewpoints; they were all true to themselves and left a lasting impression. Her crisp prose never settled for boring description and in doing so kept this world alive. I was glad that she kept me guessing, and even more at how many times I guessed wrong. Karen also does a great job keeping you emotionally involved. Her main character, Abramm is a strong protagonist that is well worth being the focal point of a series. On top of all this, I loved her action scenes. This world has a gladiator type system of fighting that makes for great battles, not to mention her unique magic system and monster creations.

For anyone writing Christian Fiction, this book provides a great lesson in how to write quality fiction that embraces spiritual truths we all battle. Her characters have depth to their reasoning and in doing so Karen addresses the many concerns people have with embracing a God of grace. I did not find this book preachy — in part because she does not dismiss challenges to biblical faith. Some people accept that gift and others don’t, plain and simple. She is not writing this book to make converts, but rather to show how real the struggle can be and that people can go either way and still be real. You don’t know coming in who will and who won’t, so there is plenty of drama to keep you till the end.

The world Karen created is a fantastic example of carrying truths from our world to a fantasy, while using those allegories to express truths in ways you’ll never forget. The golden shield of the Tertsan is an idea I wish I came up with, but I won’t tell you why. The Gospel and how to be saved are both creative and truthful. The opposing religions are complex and not at all straw men or two dimensional in any way. You can really feel what it would be like to live within their religious system and in providing these examples we get a better understanding of the faiths around us. I’m excited to see what adventures are in store for Abramm as he battles against the many enemies left to face in future books.

I would have paid for this, but because it was not only free but a very good book, I’ll definitely be buying more of her work in the future.

About the Reviewer: Timothy C. Ward is the author of the new fantasy novel, Godsknife: Revolt! which is available from Amazon, as are his other books.

Note about this review: This review first appeared in 2011 on Goodreads and is republished here with permission from Mr. Ward. Other books by Karen Hancock are available at Amazon.

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Review of Auckland Allies by Mike Reeves-McMillan

Review by Lyn Perry

Teens with magical powers, contemporary urban setting, good v evil subtext - all expected elements of your typical YA lit that's out there today. But somehow Auckland Allies by Mike Reeves-McMillan is different. Better and refreshing. First, it's set in Auckland, New Zealand, so there's a bit of out-of-the-ordinary feel to the story right off the bat. Which is good. Then, the characters come across as real and their magic isn't a superpower substitute so the predicaments and solutions the 'allies' go through are realistic as well. And overall the storytelling is clean, maybe a few swear words, but refreshingly not "new adult" which is a sad trend in a lot of contemporary YA (i.e., the inclusion of sex and swearing for no good reason). Fortunately, I could recommend this book to middle and high schoolers alike without embarrassment.

 As for the writing, it's solid. I enjoyed the 1st person snippy narrative of Tara, whom I consider the main character. I just wish the whole story was told from her POV. Instead, the book alternated between the three friends, all in the 1st person, and it got confusing at times. I'd put the kindle down then pick it up a few days later and forget who's telling the story at that point. And like a lot of books, it started to drag in the middle. Once the situation was figured out and the solution was in sight, the "getting there" was a bit on the slow side. But overall, a pretty quick read and enjoyable.

One more thought: I don't want to sound overly critical, but the cover art didn't grab me at all, nor did the title. If this was on a shelf at B&N I would probably have skipped it altogether without a second glance. Which has me wondering how I picked up the ebook in the first place. Maybe it was a gift, maybe part of a story bundle, maybe just a random purchase to support indie writers (which I recommend, btw). But after reading this, I'm inclined to see what the rest of the series holds. (Three books in this series, I believe, all stand alone novels.) Which is what all writers want, right? Us coming back for more? So three and a half stars for this one and recommended if you like clean, not too heavy, urban magic novels.

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Quick Review of Avarice by Annie Bellet

Review by Lyn Perry

A quick impression rather than a review, actually. To start, I really liked this short novel, Avarice by Annie Bellet. Sort of a "Law & Order: Fantasy Guild" kind of story. What a great mash-up. If this blend of crime/mystery and alt/medieval fantasy has been done before, I haven't noticed, so I thought it original and new and very well done. Bellet is a solid writer, pacing an intriguing storyline while remaining witty and descriptive. A refreshing take on two of my favorite genres.

I gave it 5 stars on Goodreads, which says it's Book 1 in the Pyrrh Considerable Crimes Division series. But so far, no Book 2. I hope there are more novels in this fantasy world coming soon.

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PS Subscribe to my sf/f newsletter and receive an e-book as a thank you gift.

Quick Review of A Song of Ice and Fire by George RR Martin

Brief Reaction by Lyn Perry

Look, if you've made it this far in this sprawling saga, A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin, you're either all in (4 to 5 stars per book) or you're just wasting your time.

If you haven't read the series and you want to jump in now, then a word of caution: before you start with A Game of Thrones (book 1), be aware you're embarking on an epic journey that takes time and effort. It's too big to review. It's too vast to summarize. It's excellent writing and powerful story telling. It's violent and vulgar. It's not your grandpa's LOTR sit by the fire and tell me a tale before I go to sleep kind of series.

And if, once you get started and you feel the books are a bit too intense for your taste, then skip the HBO series completely. The novels stand on their own (obviously!) and mostly avoid the raw titillation of the on screen adaption. Mostly. Now I enjoy both the books and the television series, but they are different 'things' so be forewarned. I'm definitely waiting for book 6 and the promise of "The Winds of Winter" to see how the marshaling forces of truth and treachery come together before the final showdown. You probably are too!

PS Subscribe to my sf/f newsletter and receive an e-book as a thank you gift.

The Chronicles of the Sithining

The Chronicles of the Sithining
by Michael W. Garza

Airious finds himself an unlikely hero as a devastating disease called the Sithining forever changes his world. When he discovers that the Sithining is far from the local plague it is thought to be, the truth will not only change Airious’ life forever but possibly the fate of the entire world. In Volume I, Race Against Time, Airious is forced to embrace his hero’s role when he is chosen by a holy relic, the Blade of Light, as its first wielder in over three hundred years. But is he up for the challenge?

In Volume II, Stains of War, we follow Airious and the Champions of the Blade of Light as they fight to free the city of Karthol from the clutches of the Priests of the True Faith in the hope of uniting all the races of Preyll against the black army of Azuel.

Into the Abyss, Volume III in the Chronicles of the Sithining, follows the remaining Champions of the Blade of Light as they risk their lives to journey into the depths of the abyss in the hope that Airious can fulfill his destiny and save the soul of a fallen friend.

All three volumes are available now at the ResAliens' Amazon Storefront. For more information on this high fantasy adventure series by Michael W. Garza, visit The Sithining.

Michael W. Garza is a writer from southern California. By day he works in the national security field as an Acquisition Security Program Manager. With the little free time he has he focuses on his family and his love of writing fantasy, science fiction & horror.

You can read two of his science fiction short stories for free at ResAliens.com. "Red Horizon" is a Martian mystery piece, while "Return to Sender" is a humorous take on accepted scientific knowledge. In fact, John Ottinger III favorably reviews this story (among others) at Grasping for the Wind. "Return to Sender" was chosen by ResAliens Press to appear in the first issue of their new print zine, which can be purchased here.

The Sorcerer’s Wife

by Erin M. Kinch

“Amira,” the old man croaked, his once-rich baritone barely loud enough to carry beyond the bedroom. The effort cost him a series of wheezing coughs, and he collapsed against the pillows. His head felt strangely tight and heavy.

The door squeaked, and the sorcerer expected to see his wife with the luncheon tray. Her comforting words and sweet smile would be a welcome distraction from his aching joints.

Instead, a blonde vixen sheathed in folds of amber silk stood on the threshold. Her smile faltered when she saw him, then returned full force. He tugged together the remnants of his magic, knitting them together, but he was long out of practice. Her gifts pressed against his hastily constructed shields, invisible fingers ferreting out every dent, every crack.

“Brand.”

Her voice lingered over his name like a particularly fine treat. She strolled into the room, taking in the plain wooden furniture and rag rug with a disdainful sniff. Her haughty expression reflected every imperfection – a rip in the patchwork quilt, drooping flowers on the bedside table, a dressing gown made of cotton, not silk. At least the room was scrupulously clean. Amira sentenced all dirt and cobwebs to death by dust mop.

He clenched his hands to quell the age-shakes and sat straighter in bed. Though it had been at least fifty years, she still carried the bloom of youth in her smooth skin and pink cheeks. Time had, however, sharpened her gifts since the last time they met.

“You’re a vision of the past, Viola,” Brand finally said.

“You look...” Viola arched an eyebrow. “...as if you’ve lived an eternity.” She perched on the edge of the bed and swept her skirts around her.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“Is that any way to treat your oldest friend?” Viola’s blue eyes widened with wounded innocence. If Brand hadn’t seen her practice that expression in the mirror countless times, he might have believed it.

“A true friend wouldn’t have abandoned me.”

“You chose to leave.”

Brand’s head throbbed as he struggled to shore up the chinks in his defenses. “If you cared for my happiness, you would have supported me, not forced me to choose.”

“Was it worth it?” Viola snapped. Her façade cracked enough that he knew his gifts still had kick, though he hadn’t played the Game in decades. Or perhaps it was that Brand knew Viola’s weaknesses. After all this time, they were still there, hidden, unless one knew where to strike.

“Tell me!” She leaned forward and the familiar scent of lavender wafted over him. “Was marrying that powerless babe-in-arms worth the sacrifice?” Her fingers brushed his wrinkled cheek. “Look at what you’ve become.”

“I love Amira!” Brand jerked away from her touch. “Every day with her is a treasure.”

“She can’t challenge you, and she couldn’t play the Game if she wanted to. Amira is beneath you,” Viola spat.

“Name me one gifted coupling that lasted half as long as my marriage to Amira,” Brand challenged. “Not you and I. Not you and Thom.”

“James and Florin.” Viola sat back, her chin raised with superiority as she named the leaders of their gifted family.

“And how many consorts have they each had?” A flush stained Viola’s cheeks, telling Brand he’d guessed correctly - Viola had warmed James’s bed. “I wasn’t interested in that kind of marriage, or that kind of life.”

Viola closed her eyes; when she opened them, the playful kitten had returned. She removed a velvet pouch from the folds of her gown, and the ambient power in the room increased tenfold, firing all Brand’s senses. The world sharpened until he could see each feather on the geese flying past his window, hear the brook racing outside, and smell the pine needles from the forest.

“The question is,” Viola purred, “what kind of life are you interested in now?”

She tugged the drawstring, and a jade ring tumbled into the palm of her hand. The essence of the ring pulsed, begging him to slide it on the middle finger of his left hand where it belonged. He knew it would fit perfectly - he’d carved the ring with his own gifts, his last act as an apprentice.

Though it physically hurt to look away from his ring, Brand forced himself to meet Viola’s gaze. “Why did you bring that here?”

His ring lay in her palm, brushing the similar ring on her middle finger. Viola’s ring had been carved from ivory.

“You’ve had your little adventure, Brand.” She spoke slowly, as if to a child. “You grew old with your servant wife. You had your children, and they ran off to the cities and universities, leaving you alone.”

Viola dangled the jade ring in front of him. “Your real family is still here, waiting. This will restore the full measure of your gifts. You can have everything - the Game, challenges, youth, beauty. No more of this magical half-life and self-imposed exile.”

Brand pictured himself strolling back into Exentia Castle on Viola’s arm like he’d never left. He would wear silk robes again and sit at Florin’s right hand. He could visit the far-flung lands and play the Game with masters.

But he would never be able to come home again, to this house that he and Amira had built together. Brand couldn’t imagine a world where Amira died and he went on.

When he clasped Viola’s hand, her fingers trembled. Brand curled them around the ring, muting its power slightly. “Keep it. I’m not that man anymore.”

“You could be.”

“No.” Brand closed his eyes and lay back, letting the clean scent of his pillows overwhelm the lavender. “I can’t.”

“I don’t want you to die,” Viola whispered. A tear spattered on his hand. He felt her gifts tremble, like a pulsing wound, and knew her grief was genuine, but when he opened his eyes, her features had frozen in an imperious mask. Her final move.

“I’m sorry, Viola, but I will die. Not for a while yet, God willing, but it’s the fate I chose for myself.” Another tear spilled over her thick lashes. Brand wiped it away.

She flinched, as if his touch burned. “Selfish bastard! You deserve to rot in the ground.”

Brand sighed, unable to find pleasure in the win. “Give Florin and the others my regards.”

Without another word, Viola swept from the room, taking her gifts and the pressure on his aching head with her. He felt spent, as if she’d stolen the last of his strength, and drifted into a troubled doze.

“Darling?” Cool fingers caressed his forehead. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”

Brand forced his eyes open and smiled at Amira. He knew every curve of her face and each strand of silver in her once-black hair. Then he worried - did she mean Viola? But Amira would never talk of Viola with such joy.

“Who?” Brand noticed she’d refilled the vase on the table with fresh irises from her garden.

“Simon and the twins. They’re staying a fortnight.” She twitched the quilt straight. “Isn’t that lovely?”

“Lovely,” Brand replied, his smile wan as he juxtaposed the pain of making it downstairs with the fun he would miss if he stayed in bed.

Amira brushed his lips with hers, startling him from his gloomy thoughts. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I saw Viola in town. She’s hard to miss.”

“And you let her come?”

“You deserved the right to choose for yourself.” Her chin trembled. “I want you to be happy, and if it means leaving...”

Brand stroked her hair. “You make me happy, even when I’m a crotchety old fool.”

“I brought something for you.” Amira took a packet from her apron. Inside were several creamy white blossoms.

“Milkflowers?” He squeezed her hand in gratitude. “Where did you get them at this time of year?”

“I have my sources.” She held one to his mouth. “Now take it. I know they make you feel better.”

He crunched the delicate petals, enjoying their sweet flavor. The aches and pains in his joints began to fade instantly. Amira slid her strong arm behind his shoulders and helped him to the edge of the bed, then to his feet.

“Let’s go downstairs,” she said, lacing her fingers through his. “The grandchildren are waiting.”

© 2008 Erin M. Kinch
Original fiction debuting at Residential Aliens
Discuss this story at ResAliens Forum at SFReader.com.

Erin M. Kinch lives and writes in Fort Worth, Texas, where she shares her home with her husband of almost seven years and an incorrigible golden retriever. Erin's short fiction has appeared in a variety of print and online publications, including Every Day Fiction, Allegory, A Thousand Faces, Electric Spec, Perpetual Magazine, and Sporty Spec: Games of the Fantastic. Visit her writing blog, Living the Fictional Dream, for a list of her published stories and random writing tidbits.

(photo courtesy of PDPhoto.org)

Blood and Brothers

by Alice M. Roelke

"We're going dragon hunting." Axon flopped down the poorly-folded paper and moved from the kitchen table, frowning as he leaned on his cane.

"They've found one?" Trell's spoon hovered over his mint pudding.

"Prepare the air machine," said Axon. A black-clad man in a military pose saluted, turned, and left.

Of course; Trell swallowed his disappointment. Axon wouldn't be addressing him.

Then Trell caught sight of the paper, lying there like a gift. At least, he wouldn't be talking just to me. He grabbed the paper and started reading.

Printed on the yellowish paper, the grainy shot of large animal excrement looked obscene, like a prank from school, not something adults would publish.

GAME PRESERVE REPORTS DRAGON

Authorities at Unalee Game Preserve report finding signs of dragon activity, including dragon scat, trees with rubbed bark, and partially-eaten carcasses.

"It looks like we might have a dragon," said Salaman Keyes, head game keeper. He suspects it is a young male dragon, since they are more likely to roam. The height of the tree rubbings match statistics for a young male.

Officials closed the park temporarily to give the alleged dragon time to settle in.

"This is very exciting for us. We thought they were extinct on the plains. We're doing everything we can to encourage it to stay. This could be the beginning of a whole colony."

Officials are releasing cattle into the park to give the dragon easy prey.

Soldiers are temporarily augmenting the park's security staff to ensure the dragon's safety.

Dragons were hunted nearly to extinction earlier this century for their blood, which holds medically useful properties. Dragons were not thought to remain in the wild in our country, and the last one in captivity, Big George, died six years ago.

Trell put down the paper. So. A dragon, huh? Well, his brother was more important than some teenage dragon.

He found Axon in the sepulchral library, making a voicer call. "—something to keep them busy." Pause. "Yeah. That sounds good."

Axon's gaze rose to Trell's. He slammed the mouth piece down and glared. "What?"

"I—I'm good at shooting, Axon." Inwardly, he grimaced. Wrong approach.

Axon grunted, turning back to his voicer. Trell slid away.

He saw Axon later, leaning on his cane, grim-lipped and surrounded by the men who looked like soldiers. But he left too quickly for Trell to talk to him.

He left his report cards around—Swordsmanship by the voicer, Marksmanship beside Axon's dinner plate. He waited for the response—a servant telling him to pack, a summons to see Axon himself. Axon wouldn't want to make a big deal out of it; he was undemonstrative at best. His admission that Trell was growing up—perhaps could even be let in on the family business—would be brief, brusque.

The day passed without it, and Trell fell asleep waiting.

The next day, Trell's campaign increased by desperation to a direct question.

Flanked by his men, Axon moved with hunched, hurting steps towards the air machine. He scowled. But then, he always did when he had to show weakness.

"Axon." Trell stepped in front of him.

Hard, coal-colored eyes trained on him, fury-filled.

Trell blinked. "L-let me come, Axon."

Axon's cold gaze focused on Trell. Not one of the bodyguards would have dared interrupt him like this.

"I can help. I want to help."

Axon's gaze seemed to measure him. And Axon gave an infinitesimal nod.

Yes! Trell quelled his grin. Axon never seemed to approve of smiling, as though other people's happiness made his misery more acute.

Did Axon envy his brother's youth, the relative freedom of school and vacation time, the mobility of working legs? Well, it would be hard not to. But Trell would have shared if he could have.

When Axon was Trell's age, their parents had died in the accident that caused Axon's leg injuries. It had thrust him into early adulthood, taking over the family business. Compared to Axon, Trell had suffered nothing, just going to boarding school rather young, and only seeing his brother on vacations.

Trell often heard murmured conferences in the library, people coming and going, keeping Axon awake. Axon's face looked tired in the mornings, but somehow strong, too. He wouldn't settle into a wheeled chair to avoid pain. Even in the mansion, he walked. Now, with dragon's blood for medicine, maybe he could walk pain-free.

Trell couldn't wait until he was old enough to share the burden, take some of the pressure off his brother's shoulders.

"You don't have time to pack." Axon frowned, as if begrudging his decision.

"That's all right. I packed—just in case." He ran back for the sack, feeling lanky but powerful, hoping he would not trip under his brother's gaze. Then he wondered if he should have walked, if his speed and ease upset Axon. He saw his brother so rarely, he could not really gauge Axon's feelings.

Maybe this trip will change all that. He grabbed his bag.

~*~

The air machine's blades whirred over the city, high because of the smoke from burning buildings. Trell pressed his nose to the glass, trying to see better.

"Knock it off," growled Axon.

Trell sat back. "But what's going on?"

"City's burning. Gang violence." It was a long explanation, from Axon.

"But...why?"

Axon glared at him.

Trell shut up.

He had always thought his brother had contracts with the government—all those secret meetings—and he wondered that Axon could leave with trouble below. But maybe the regular soldiers had it under control, and the government didn't need Axon right now.

Towns petered into farms, which stretched into wilderness.

At the park's entrance, they landed in a whir of blades and dust. A man in a uniform ran out to meet them, waving his arms. He wore a green uniform with brown braid.

"Stop. You can't land here!" The man cupped his hands, shouted over the whirring blades.

Axon gestured to his men. Two hopped out and grabbed the guard, yanked him into a nearby building—more a hut really. The grass roof surprised Trell, and the fact that it was only one story tall. He'd thought the park could afford better.

Someone should have told that guy we were coming. Axon's men shouldn't have been so rough, but after all that Axon did for the government, they shouldn't begrudge him a bit of dragon's blood. The soldiers the newspaper had mentioned weren't here, so they must have already known.

Trell slipped out the machine's open door to escape the loud chattering its blades made.

Axon climbed down with help he obviously resented.

Trell didn't try to get involved. He walked in the dust, kicking his feet in the low, prickly weeds. The flat land collected sun, threw heat back up at his face. He looked around at a few trees, a half-broken fence repaired with a shovel handle, and the stretched-out green-and-brownness of the plain. It was a new world where anything seemed possible. Although he didn't see a dragon, just knowing it was out there made his senses feel alive, tingling with the thought of the hunt.

Perhaps the pressures would fall away from Axon. Out here in the flatlands, around a fire, their age difference wouldn't matter. They could become like other brothers, brothers who teased each other, and used nicknames. He could ask what their parents had been like, and maybe Axon would actually remember.

Trell glanced back at the group. The guards stood talking to Axon, without the game warden. They must have explained things, and left him to stew in the hut.

Trell came back as the blade noise died away. He trailed a stickweed on the ground, drawing a long line in the dirt.

Axon's gaze flicked to Trell. He broke off the conversation. "All right, men. Let's move out." He jerked his head to Trell, who fell in line behind him.

They broke into parties. Trell eyed the weapons the men shared out. Some were tranquilizer guns, the rest, old-fashioned, one-shot harpoons. Axon saw him looking, and nodded to the men. They gave him a harpoon gun half his height. "Don't use that unless you have to. We want to leave it alive," instructed Axon.

Trell nodded.

Most of the men headed off in parties either right or left. Trell stayed by his brother and the last two guards.

Their shadows stretched shorter, then longer. Axon stopped to rest every few minutes. Tight lines decorated his mouth.

"Let's stop and make a fire," Trell suggested.

Axon gave a tight nod.

Trell had excelled at wilderness studies. He heaped dry grasses and sticks in a pyramid, cleared space around it. His hands shook, taking the matches from his sack under Axon's blank gaze. His brother sagged, not even leaning on his stick.

Trell somehow felt if he could just get the fire started, he would be able to help Ax.

The men produced food packs from their sacks and opened them, acting like the fire didn't matter at all.

Flame crackled. "There we go," Trell announced, too loud.

Axon looked up as though just waking, blinked at Trell. He scowled, croaked, "Did you make that near the brush?"

"No—I was careful. See? I left plenty of space." Trell jumped up, moving his shoe back and forth in the dust.

Axon grunted and turned away, his shoulders hunched.

Trell stood staring down at his brother. Axon looked smaller and weaker than usual. Trell felt a cold ache below his breastbone.

Tomorrow, he would find the dragon. He would fix things for his brother.

~*~

He woke stiff from the ground. Watery sunlight leaked over the horizon. Mindful of his brother's rest, Trell rose quietly, checked the fire, and looked out over the landscape.

He felt it burning into his brain, a place he would never forget. His chest seemed to itch on the inside. He wanted to fling himself at the landscape, run until he reached the horizon.

He scratched a message in the dirt for Axon, promising to be back by noon and pointing an arrow the way he'd gone. He shouldered his rifle and left.

The sun greeted him like a friend. He grew less chilly and his smile brightened as the sun rose further. He'd have joined the birds in singing, if he hadn't been afraid he'd alert the dragon.

He neared a grove of trees, and crouched. He imagined the dragon, as cheerful this morning as he, rubbing a tree or looking for breakfast, snorting at birds while the grass tickling its underside. He pictured its long, pink tongue flicking out, its eyes almost like Ax's, strong but tireless.

Trell pictured himself and the dragon locked in an immortal struggle. The dragon was his worthy opponent, and he would slay it for his brother. Or at least borrow some of its blood. It would be a fair fight.

Dry weeds rustled heavily among the trees. He crouched lower, grinning, and unslung his gun. Weeds prickled and itched against his knees. He trained his eyes on the grove.

A glimpse of black and white made his heart stutter. Just how big did dragons get? As big as him? Bigger? He remembered reading they could run down bull elephants.

The animal moved, revealing—

Cattle horns, and long legs. Trell sank back into the brush.

Wait. He dimly recalled zoology class. Weren't dragons supposed to like rotting meat? Maybe it could be bait. Yeah; Ax had said not to kill it. He'd shoot the cow, then fetch the others and they would lie in wait.

He wet and lifted a finger to test the breeze, eased down to the sights. Feeling like a great, silent hunter, he lowered his finger and pushed the safety off. The cow's ears flicked in his direction. It whirled and galloped with enough noise for ten cows.

I can't even kill a cow! Sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Trell!" Axon's voice, in an agonized scream. Trell whirled, raising his gun in surprise at having Axon there—and at hearing him afraid.

A dragon crouched ten feet from Trell. Red eyes glinted, trained not on the departed cow but on him. Sunlight gleamed reddish on its green scales. It seemed to have paused at Ax's shout, but now it surged forward, all in one smooth, rushing movement, too fast to seem real.

Trell rejoiced in it, was transfixed by it and terrified of it, all mixed together into one feeling—one feeling that kept him from raising his gun.

The sun glinted on the scales—

The smooth power of its muscles—

Thwack. A harpoon struck its leg.

The dragon roared with a sound like cracking rock. It whirled to bite the harpoon stuck in its flank.

Trell shook his head to clear it. The dragon's attention snapped back to him. Its eyes narrowed.

"Shoot it, you idiot!" Axon shouted, waving his now-empty gun.

The dragon erupted towards Trell.

Everything converged in the moment. The dragon plunged towards him. Ax shouted. Trell's finger tightened on the trigger.

The harpoon flew true, clefting into the head. His aim had been better than Axon's.

The dragon thumped forward, writhed with a high, awful cry. Twitched, clawed, and lay as big as a dead cow. Trell stared at it with a strange, hurting buzz in his head.

The dragon lay still. Axon stood behind it, staring. The sun shone on its dead body. Wind whipped the grass around them. Trell knew he would never forget the scene.

Axon hobbled up, leaning on his empty gun. His eyes locked on Trell. "You idiot, you could have died!"

Trell caught sight of his brother's face, paler than he'd ever seen it. "You saved my life, Ax."

Axon turned back to the dragon. "Don't be ridiculous." He still looked shaken.

The guards arrived; they must have split up to look for him, and come at the sound of shots. Axon whirled on them. "You idiots! Where were you?"

Trell felt enclosed in a curious silence. He squatted by the dragon, wanting and not wanting to touch it. He forced himself to reach out. Its warm, tight shoulder showed how strong it had been. The baby scales near the snout felt soft, smooth.

Its eyes already looked different, as if the life had seeped out of them. He'd had to kill it. But it had been so alive. He tried to catch its eye, apologize somehow. But it was already beyond him, the red of its eye turned glassy and lifeless in the bronze light.

Tears gathered in his own eyes. He looked up and saw his brother limping back towards him. Saw the guards weren't really at all like soldiers.

Two of them stood by the dragon now, one bending, trying to catch its dripping blood in a glass jar, another leaning over the dragon, wrapping his hand with a rag.

The rag was made of green cloth with brown braid. It was bloody even though it hadn't touched the dragon yet. With it, the man pulled Axon's harpoon from the dragon's leg.

Trell remembered the conferences, the snatch of voicer communication he'd overheard—something about keeping someone busy. Burning the city would have kept the soldiers busy—lured them away from guarding the dragon.

Only one man had remained as guard. Trell focused on the bloody, ripped shirt, and his vision blurred.

He stood to meet his brother.

Axon sent his men away with an irritated gesture and stared at Trell. "What? You're hurt?" he rasped, his face tight.

Trell faced him. Seeing his brother for the first time. Seeing what he hadn't let himself notice before. He spoke with an ache in his voice. "We're gangsters, aren't we, Ax?"

His brother stared at him, his lips tight and colorless. "Yes."

Trell had gotten his wish. His brother finally noticed him, saw him as more than a child, saw him for who he was. But Trell also saw who his brother was.

The dragon's blood seeped into the ground between them. They stared at each other over the dragon.

We're strangers, aren't we, Ax?

A rumble filled the plain. For a moment, Trell thought the dragon had come back to life and started growling.

Black air machines chattered their blades overhead. Axon's distraction in town hadn't worked. Not for long enough.

Axon whirled to look at them, this way and that, panic crossing his face.

Trell swallowed. "I killed it. It was coming after me. We'll tell them I—had to kill it."

Axon turned back to him, eyes burning with dark humor. "And tell them we just happened to be here?" He snorted. "No, Trell, this is my fault." He leaned heavily on his gun, his hair whipped by the artificial wind.

He had to shout to be heard over the landing machines. "Maybe you can carry on the family name better than I did. Even better than our parents did." He laid a hand briefly on Trell's shoulder, then turned to face his fate.

Soldiers disembarked, armed and running towards them.

Trell didn't know what would happen, to Axon or to him.

He looked back at the poor, dead dragon. He was crying again, for his brother, himself, and the dragon—for all of them. But mostly because the dragon had died for nothing. Whatever they did to Axon, he knew they would never let him use the dragon's blood to fix his pain.

Trell swiped at his eyes and moved to stand by his brother's side. He stood as tall as he could.

© 2008 by Alice M. Roelke
Original fiction debuting at Residential Aliens.

Alice M. Roelke has been previously published in Young Salvationist, Ray Gun Revival, GateWay SF, Tower of Light Fantasy, Wayfarer's Journal, and Haruah: Breath of Heaven. She currently volunteers as a slush reader at Ray Gun Revival. For more, visit her website.

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Discuss this story now at ResAliens Forum at SFReader.com.

(Image Source: Unknown)

One's Duty

by James C. Clar

When Master Radegast retired and gave him the vaunted sword – a weapon whose history was shrouded in mystery and legend – Radegar knew that his duty was clear and his obligation acute. Only three years after Unification, the dungeons were still full. In his role now as the Hierarch’s chief executioner, it would be his task to dispatch all of those, and they were legion, who had opposed the grand consolidation of power in the Ekklesia. One of the condemned, of course, was his own father.

Radegar was no sadist. The psychological testing that had been done when his uncommon skills with the sword had first come to the attention of those in power had shown that quite clearly.

In addition, the young man was also well aware that had it not been for his father’s former prominence in the hierarchy (before his views on politics and religion had changed), he most probably would have perished on some god-forsaken field of battle as just another simple soldier – albeit one remarkably gifted with the blade – martyred in the fight for Unification. He also recalled his father’s love for and devotion to his wife, Radegar’s mother, long dead now from the plague.

Thus the young functionary did not particularly relish the thought of taking his sire’s life. At the same time, he also realized that his superiors would be watching closely when that time came for any signs of weakness or wavering resolve. Radegar prayed to the One that his hands and shoulders would be firm and that his aim would be true … both for his own as well as for his father’s sake.

For nearly a year, Radegar performed his duties with integrity, compassion and, judging by the adulation of the crowds in the capital and the approval of his overlords, with élan. During that time he discovered many things remarkable, miraculous even, about the blade that had been bequeathed to him as it had been to all of those who had served in his capacity since before the people of his land began worshipping the One untold millennia ago. In the first place, the sword was perfectly balanced. Heavy as it was when it lay in its jewel-encrusted scabbard, in the performance of its primary function it felt quite literally like an extension of his hand and arm.

Most amazing, however, were the weapon’s mystical powers. At the top of its arc, just before he braced with his legs and followed through with his back and shoulders in the fell descent, he caught a fleeting glimpse … an intuition, as it were … transmitted wordlessly, unaccountably through the weapon itself concerning the character of the condemned.

So, for example, in the case of the priest Procopius, a flash of insight the instant before steel met flesh revealed to Radegar that in addition to the man’s suspect theology and politics he was also a violent pedophile; a fact that had not hitherto come to light. And then there was the copyist Cassidorus condemned for altering official ekklesial documents. Radegar discovered that he had murdered his own brother to advance his career. The prisoner had successfully hidden his crime by making it look like an accident.

The first time he had experienced the sword’s arcane power it had been mildly unsettling. Only his iron will and self-discipline had enabled him to carry out his task unflinchingly and, he hoped, without anyone observing his slight hesitation. Above all else, Radegar prided himself on doing his duty.

Since that time he had grown accustomed to the eccentricities of the weapon. He could now understand why the secret of the sword had been guarded so closely for thousands of years, and why the substance of that secret was never revealed in advance to those who were chosen to assume the role of chief executioner. Its discovery was intensely personal, a rite of passage, as well as both a gift and a burden that could only be borne by those truly fit to do so.

He was also astonished at the righteousness of the judgments passed by the Ekklesial Tribunal. Not one prisoner that Radegar had executed since assuming his role had been innocent. If the individuals under sentence had not in fact been guilty of the crimes for which they had been condemned, Radegar’s sword revealed to him that they had nevertheless been the perpetrators of offences far more heinous.

On the much-anticipated morning of his father’s scheduled execution, Radegar took his position on the platform to await the arrival of the prisoner. He stood, as was his custom, just to the side of the block. His legs were spread, feet apart, and he held his sword point down in front of his body. His hands were clasped on the top of the pommel. He was a model of dignity and composure. The vast crowd that had assembled was silent. Protocol dictated that they refrain from cheering until after the execution. In truth, Radegar felt very little out of the ordinary. He focused his attention on the myriad details of the duty he was about to perform. He also felt confident that, at its accustomed time, his sword would make known to him the depth of his father’s guilt. His experience thus far deemed that such was almost inevitable.

What little noise the crowd had been making subsided completely as the condemned man was led onto the platform. He knelt and placed his neck on the block as instructed. Simultaneously, the dignitaries and official witnesses on the dais stood. Radegar stepped forward – father and son never made eye contact – and raised his sword.

The blade sang as it flashed through the air. Suddenly, just as he was to deliver the severing stroke, his sword mere inches from the base of his father’s neck, Radegar dropped his weapon and strode calmly from the platform. His ineluctable obligation had been made instantly, blazingly clear. The noise of the crowd was deafening. Needless to say, the young executioner was seized by guards as soon as he descended the steps.


~*~

Now languishing in prison awaiting his own execution as a traitor, Radegar took some comfort in the fact that his former protégé, Ragnorak, would learn the truth on the day when, now as chief executioner, he would sever Radegar’s head from his shoulders. What the sword at first revealed to Radegar, it would surely also reveal to Ragnorak … if it had not already done so when the latter completed the task that had been begun and subsequently, shamefully, aborted by his erstwhile master. Radegar’s father had certainly been guilty of crimes against the Ekklesia as alleged. But he was not, in actuality, Radegar’s father. The condemned man had married Radegar’s mother to protect her honor and he had raised Radegar as his own out of a sense of obligation, compassion and, eventually, love for mother and child. In the end – and as Ragnorak already knew or would soon intuit – both father and son, each in his own way, had done his duty.

© 2008 by James C. Clar
Original fiction debuting at Residential Aliens.

James C. Clar is a teacher and writer living in upstate New York. His work has appeared in print and online. Most recently his short fiction has been published in the Taj Mahal Review, Everyday Fiction, Powder Burn Flash, PenPricks, Microfiction, Orchard Press Mysterie,. MysteryAuthors.com, Crime and Suspense Magazine, and Long Story, Short.

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