A Brave New World

“Since this is what you turned me into.” Jarod waves at himself before he picks up the glass pot of burning silver liquid. He twists it. Shakes it. “I plan to use it.”

“Don’t!” I grab the pot out of his hand. I place it carefully on the battered bench and step back. I start breathing again. “Do that.” I glare at him. “This isn’t your world. The rules are different here.”

“There has to be magick.” He paces the vaulted room, his hands behind his back. “And I’m sure there’s someone around here whose life you’re destroying.”

“Jarod…”

He stops, turns. That silver gaze fixes on me. “Deny it.”

“Alesh.”

“Thought so.”

“How did you get here?”

He stares up at the windows, three narrow slits high on one wall. Harsh sunlight splinters to the floor around him, through him. “You set me free.” The smile he directs at me prickles my skin. “And I have some time to kill.”

And that disturbs me more than anything else.

Typical

"What the hell are you doing here, Jarod?"

He's smirking.

The bloody man is smirking...

After a short absence...

Damn it, she's recovering. Have to work. Fast.

Yesterday

“So what happened yesterday?”

I settle into a chair in the corner of the dark room. Smells of cooking fat and stale beer waft up from the taproom. I don’t know why he stays in this pit. Wait. Yes, I do.

“You know what happened.” Jarod’s voice, cold, hard comes from the bed.

“You scared the tavern owner half to death and…?”

“Am I allowed time to recover? To get used to this?”

“You’ve had a day.” I stand and brush the dust and dirt from my clothes. I tug at the shutters and grey, morning light bursts into the fusty room.

“You enjoy this,” Jarod mutters.

“I’m a writer.” I shrug. “Making your life hard is what I have to do.”

I stare at the man as he shoves aside the covers. I can see why Shena screamed…

I ignore the twinge of guilt. It’s necessary. I thought Jarod had accepted that.

I have.

Today

“Inago?”

I stop on the stairs. That was definitely been another thump from his room.

“Inago? Are you all right?”

He’d told me, told me that he wouldn’t be the same today. The man is eaten up by something and has an unhealthy obsession about Fen Dakis… but I thought it was just drunken talk.

Yet, now it’s early morning, the last of the stragglers have found a new home in the gutter and he is usually up and scribbling at his corner table.

I rap on his door. “Inago?”

The room is in darkness, the shutters still pulled tight.

“Go away, Shena.”

I should do as he orders. I should. Instead, I enter and stand at the end of his narrow bed. My eyes grow used to the gloom. Curled into a tight ball, he has the sheets twisted around him. “Do you need a doctor?”

A bitter laugh escapes him. “No doctor can help me.”

“But—”

He erupts from the bed. “Look at me! Look what’s she’s done.”

I scream. And I can’t stop.

The day before tomorrow

“Are you all right?”

He moves his pile of parchment and I put the bottle on the table. Shadows are heavy beneath his eyes and his shoulders slump under his hide tunic. He looks bone tired. I stop myself from smiling. Funny for a Magician.

“Fine,” he mutters, covering his writing with a fresh piece of parchment. I know better than to look, anyway. He takes the bottle and downs half of it. “She’s at that point.”

“She?”

He sits back in his chair and the old wood creaks. “The woman who has me sitting here, writing. Writing that she won’t even let anyone see.”

He scrubs at his heavy face and lets out a slow sigh. “Tomorrow I’ll probably look different, Shena.”

“You seem to change day to day, getting worse, if I may say so.”

He laughs, something hollow, brittle. “Tomorrow.” He lifts his bottle and salutes me. “You’ll see.”

I wring my apron, it’s none of my business, but… “You’re a Magician, sir. How can anyone tell you what to do?”

A real smile touches his mouth and a spark of fire flashes in his disconcertingly silver eyes. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you.” He shakes his head. “She’s different.”

His spine straightens. “You know, what Shena? Damn her. Grab a bottle and sit with me. My tab,” he says as I hesitate.

I look back to the empty bar. Jerem is asleep in his usual chair. The tavern is dead.

“All right.”

His fingers lightly touch the parchment and the writings hidden beneath. There’s a bleakness in his gaze that twists my insides. “And if you would, you can tell me about Fen Dakis...”

View of a stranger

He’s sitting at the back of the room, a musty place where the light never reaches. An oil lamp sits on the table and casts a weak, golden glow over his hands. I can hear the ink-stick scratching on the parchment from here.

But then it’s quiet in The Hand today. All my usual Sevens are still working. There’s only Jerem near the open window, slumped in a booth, snoring softly. I smile. He’s drooling and muttering. As usual.

I look back at my stranger.

He’s not a Seven. A Six slumming? But then he doesn’t look like he sits behind a desk all day. No, it’s not my business. I’m paid to get my clients to take the fights outside and serve up the ale. Nothing else.

And if my stranger wants to stay in that corner, he’s going to have to buy something. House rules.

I brush down the front of my apron and lift my chin. My tavern. Mine. I step out from behind the counter.

“You want me to order something.”

That stops me. “House rules.” The words sound choked and I swallow. “So. What will it be?”

“Those bottles I had. One will do.” He looks up and silver eyes pierce me. The lamp light burns over the fierce Devourer Tattoo scoring his right cheek. “Start a tab.” A smile tugs at his mouth and he reaches into his pocket. I don’t miss the flash of a Spell-carved dagger on his belt. He flips me a gold coin. “I’m good for it.”

Out of habit I want to bite the coin. Probably not a good idea around this man. “I don’t doubt it, sir.”

“Bite the coin.”

Heat rises under my skin. Was the damn Magician in my head? Could they do that? “No need.”

“What’s your name?”

“Shena Moar.”

He looks back to the parchment. “Do you know Fen?”

Fen? The woman keeps herself to herself. What trouble could have this man looking for her? She’s my friend. I can’t lie. But I won’t give her up to this man. “I think she’s been in here. Once or twice. I’ve not seen her for a while.”

Something about my answer makes him smile again. He picks up his ink-stick. “Good,” he murmurs. “Exactly the right answer, Shena Moar.” The scratching over the parchment starts again. “Tell that to everyone you know.”

I stare at him. “I’ll get your bottle.”

“You do that.”

Who am I?

She doesn’t trust me.
Not that I blame her. I wouldn’t trust me either. After all, I could tell you the truth…
So the final version will be subject to her whims.


Who am I?

I am Jarod Vae. Bone Magician and Lord of the Inner Circle.

And I want to make one thing perfectly clear, from the outset.

For years, I’ve followed my cousin, Marrus. Worked for him, protected the woman he believes is the fabled Sorcerer. That’s been my job. Hiding Fen Dakis. I would never betray him. Never. Those are lies spread by that writer.

No. Fen Dakis is a means to an end.

Nothing more.

Understand?

Introducing...

Jarod Vae

Jarod's nursing a drink. The small table is littered with discarded empties. I push myself into the threadbare chair. He doesn't look up.

"You've left me in the middle of Chapter Twelve to do this."

"I know. I'm sorry."

A smile tugs at his mouth, bitter, twisted. "Like hell you are." He drains the bottle and points to the barman for a refill. "You want me to take on this place for a while?" He sits back and his silver gaze sparks in the lamp light. His mouth twitches. I refuse to let my nails curl into my palms. "Then there will be conditions."

I lift my chin. He's mine. He doesn't intimidate me. Much. "No conditions, Jarod."

"Really?"

The barman puts the cold bottle on the table and looks at me. I shake my head. I wait for him to leave before I turn back to Jarod. "Should I ask Fen?"

Something shifts in his gaze. I know what it is. I wonder does he. He picks up his fresh bottle. "Leave her out of this."

I shrug. "If you're unwilling..." I leave it hanging. Pushing my chair back, I smile at him. "I'm sure she'll share exactly what she thinks of you-"

"Fine." He bites out the word. "Tomorrow."

"You're just having that Chapter Twelve feeling again."

"Be glib," he mutters. His cold glare pins me and I remember just how powerful I made Jarod Vae. Lord of the Inner Circle. Bone Magician. Chaos in human form. "But at the end, I'll remember this."

The end. I ignore the twist in my gut.

His harsh laughter follows me out of the bar.

Am I crazy??

Okay... trying for the two blog approach. The fact that I have trouble updating one blog on a daily basis is hard enough, without me throwing this into the mix... but here I go.

Under the name of Kim Knox... I write fantasy romance.

I didn't think about writing under two names at the very beginning. However, I'd had a few surprised reactions about me writing both comtemporary and fantasy. So I'm trying to avoid confusion and disappointment. I hope, LOL

Since my I really should be writing Blog is my struggle with hobbits, ents and unruly wizards i.e. my family with a bit of general bit of writing thrown in, I'm going to try something different with this one.

I was thinking of letting my characters run it. A weekly turn, maybe.

I'll see how it goes... eep