Rogue Magic, Free Novel, Chapter 37

The prequel to this — Witchfinder — has been removed.  I do promise to go through the copyedits as soon as humanly possible and send the advance copies to those who pre-ordered.  You’ll know when that’s eminent because I’ll remove scattered chapters from this blog.  I do hope to manage it next week, but I’m not promising as I’m still finishing a novel under contract to Baen. Meanwhile, if you donate $6 and note it in the field, you’ll get advance-subscribed to this novel.  I do, however, understand it can be a long time to wait, and if you want to, do so.  I will continue to post chapters here, roughly one a week.

NOTICE: For those unsure about copyright law and because there was a particularly weird case, just because I’m making the pre-first draft of my novel available to blog readers, it doesn’t mean that this isn’t copyrighted to me.  Rogue Magic as all the contents of this blog is © Sarah A. Hoyt 2013.  Do not copy, alter, distribute or resell without permission.  Exceptions made for ATTRIBUTED quotes as critique or linking to this blog. Credit for the cover image is © Ateliersommerland | Dreamstime.com

Lady Helen Blythe, Sister of the Earl of Savage

 

I’m not as innocent as I look.  No, wait.  In many ways I’m far more innocent than I look, since I have it on good authority that I look like my brother Jon.  But I’m not so innocent that I didn’t know our oh, so helpful friend was the god Hermes, and that I didn’t know the reputation of that particular divinity.

Trickster, god of thieves, and other things that mostly were expressed by Jon wagging his eyebrows up and down when they were anywhere near his thoughts, but I was close enough to hear it.

It was a little surprising that he seemed to look like my brother, but I assumed that was because he was trying to lull me into complacency.  I still had no intention of marrying him, or, for that matter of revealing that long strand of pearls wound under my clothes.  I needed that strand of pearls to secure a comfortable living, so I wouldn’t have to marry whoever offered for me.  Because even if I couldn’t be a pirate queen, I was tired of living my life by someone else’s rules.

“You have to tell me where you want to go,” Hermes said.  “Else I can’t help you.”

I thought that if what I remembered from the stories was true, then whatever we told him would come true upside down and sideways, but then again, how would that be different from that very strange journey I’d embarked on when Betsy and I had transported to what we thought was Plymouth?

But before I could talk, Mr. Merrit spoke.  “We want to get out of here and back to the Earth of men, and I want the Lady Helen safe.”

I spoke over the end of it, and my voice came out in a sullen tone, “I want to be a pirate queen.”

Hermes had been nodding at Mr. Merrit but now turned to me, a sort of cackle escaping from his throat and, seemingly unwillingly, between his lips.  “You do, do you?” he said, and to my chock did exactly what Jonathan does when he thinks I’m being silly.  He patted my head, as though I were a cute child aged about six.  “Well, my dear, maybe someday you will be, but now is not a good time.”  Then he turned to Mr. Merrit, which did annoy me, because, after all, surely, I mattered too.  “I see that,” he said.  “Whether it is possible is something completely different.  I can surely get you to the world of men, and even to the vicinity of your place of residence, but whether that means you can be safe is something wholly different.  Three worlds are involved in this collision.  There will be none safe and possibly none alive, unless we find a way to stabilize and insulate each world from the others.”

“But I thought,” I said, “That the mythworld wanted the collision.”

“Zeus,” Hermes said, and it might have been a swearword.  “Wants many things, but when you’re that old, that powerful, and so many conflicting expectations have been laid on you, it is all a matter of conjecture whether what you want would be good for anyone, least of all you.  Never mind.  Some of us – myself and Loki and others have been wondering what to do if this disaster is going to let some of us escape alive.  Already, the old myths are bursting out.  The kingdom of Neptune is threatened by an ancient, nameless one, which is why the king wanted to marry you, hoping some of my magic—” He stopped abruptly.  “Never mind that.”

“But I do mind,” I said, primly.  “After all, you’re asking us to trust ourselves to you, and Loki, and I assume other rogues.  Why should we, when the powers of good are aligned against you.”

He grinned, and his grin was exactly like Jonathans before one of those words he wasn’t supposed to say in front of me escaped his lips – words like “round heels” and “tup.”

“Why should you indeed.  But lady, one thing you learn fast in this world is that ‘good’ is entirely relative.  For instance, Neptune is a good … creature, supposedly, but you refused to marry him.  And well done that, since he’s already married.  And The All Father… Zeus, Odin, whatever you wish to call him, has his own ideas about what is good, that don’t involve the convenience or even the life of anyone else.  In this case, he wants more power, and he wants our world to merge with yours again, at least to an extent, so we can again milk it of belief and energy.  The only way to do that – which will kill magic among humans – is to use Fairyland as fuel for the merge, which I understand will wholly consume Fairyland and in turn destroy all of the worlds.  We tried to explain this to him.  Hephestus himself… Never mind.  He would not listen, and he is sole ruler of mythworld.

“Sometimes, when the good people are disastrously wrong a confederacy of rogues is needed, and just such we’ve created.  And now, discounting that the lady can’t be a pirate just now – maybe later – I’ll conduct you to a portal that will take you to your home world.  This will greatly disappoint Neptune and Diana and most of all The All Father, but it must be done.  Follow me.  And don’t be afraid to walk normally.  I’ve cast a veil upon us.”