A.C. Smyth's Blog, page 4

B is for…

Continuing with my theme of people, places and things from the Chandris stories, we come to the letter B, which is for Banunis and birdchangers.

B is for Banunis.

At the beginning of Crowchanger, the head of House Banunis, and king of Chandris, is King Deygan.

Deygan is generally regarded as a good king. He has weathered some major storms during his reign, but has guided the island successfully through them. With three young sons, his dynasty seems certain to continue.

While Deygan is a good king...

A is for…

As promised (threatened), this is the first of my blog posts about some of the people, places and things you will meet in my Chandris stories. We’re going to start with aiea and Ayriene.

A is for Aiea

Aiea is the term used by the Chesammos, and adopted by the changers in general, for the energies emitted by Eurna (the Lady) and channelled by changers to manage the change to bird form. For those with a changer talent, the aiea is also the way by which they access their additional abilities.

When changers refer to aiea they generally mean the lower form, aiea-bar. This is the energy accessible to all changers (there are a very few exceptions, but it would be a bit spoilery if I went into that). The energies used by talented changers are specified by the term aiea-dera.

Aiea-bar is stored within the body, and is variously felt by changers as a pressure in the abdomen or on the chest, or rarely as a weight on the back. Aiea-dera circulates around the body, and can be seen around a talented changer by another talent. This gives rise to the expression “talent knows talent” as once the talent is developed enough for the flows of aiea-dera to be detected, one talented changer will be able to detect another.

Once away from the island, the changer is unable to replenish their aiea, and soon will be unable to hold changer form or manage a transformation. This effect is temporary, with the aiea replenishing itself once the changer comes back within range of Eurna’s energies. The Chesammos believe that only the Lady emits these energies, but the Irenthi dispute this, thinking that it is a property of the island as a whole that produces the aiea.

Some changers maintain there is a third level of aiea, but it is unclear where this theory originated, what this higher level would be used for, and who might be able to access it.

 

A is for Ayriene

We first meet Ayriene early in Crowchanger, at the ceremony to remember her youngest child Adwen.

She is a changer and a healer talent, and she blames herself for Adwen’s death. If the accident that killed him had happened on Chandris, she could have used the aiea-dera to heal him. But they were travelling off-island, finding samples of medicinal plants from the mainland to bring back to Chandris, as plants, seeds, or simply dried leaves and powders to use in her treatments.

Ayriene takes Sylas, the main character, on as apprentice. They form a close bond, which helps them both: Ayriene in getting over the grief of Adwen’s death by focusing on her work and his training; Sylas by giving him the security and hope for a future he so desperately needs.

As time goes on, Ayriene is forced to confront a memory she had tried to suppress: of ships on fire and a young girl with burned hands…

April A-Z Challenge

As you can see from my side bar, I’m participating in the A-Z challenge this year. This is partly to get me into the habit of blogging regularly. I started this blog with the best of intentions, but other things got in the way. And then it turned into a vicious circle: No one visited, so I didn’t write, so no one visited.

For this challenge, I’m going to be writing a bit of the background to the Chandris stories. I figure it may have limited appeal right now, but may come in useful if they start to attract more attention. So you’ll find snippets about the world, the locations, the characters and the themes, with no spoilers, naturally.

I’m working out right now who/what I’m going to tell you about, and it has served as a notice to me that I need to include more people/places starting with Q, U, V, and X (I have no clue what I’m going to do for them!) I have a side character whose name begins with Z, so that one was easier than I expected. So if the novellas and short stories I have planned around the novels have a load of characters whose names start with these letters, you’ll know I named them during April!

Plans for Chandris

One thing I keep being asked is about my plans for the Chandris series. So this is a short post with what I have lined up.

The first novel in the series is Crowchanger. Sylas is in his teens in this one, struggling with his abilities and trying to find his place in the Aerie hierarchy. Crowchanger was released in December 2013, and has had some really pleasing reviews.

The second book, Stormweaver. should be out end of March 2014 (ebook) and end of April/beginning of May for the paperback. I need to check the proofs of the paperback, so there will be a delay for the dead tree readers out there. This one starts about nine years after the conclusion of Crowchanger, so we have an adult Sylas who finds he can’t hide behind youth and inexperience any more, and needs to step up to the plate.

For now, I only have three novels planned, so the one I’m revising at the novel gives a bit of closure to Sylas’s story. If people like the series and want more I might pick it up again, maybe to focus on other characters for a while. But this one starts three months after the end of Stormweaver. It’s less of a boys’ own adventure, and more of a coming to terms with the implications of what happens at the end of book 2. No spoilers here, but I’ve left Sylas and his friends with quite a lot of loose threads to tidy up during book 3. No title for 3 yet. I did have a working title, but I’m coming to think that maybe it doesn’t fit as well as it might, so I’m revisiting.

In addition, I’m planning two novella-length pieces. One takes place about twenty years before Crowchanger, and has a young Jesely and the love of his life, Shamella. The characters in Crowchanger allude to these events, so I’m looking forward to actually writing it and showing everyone what happened. The second takes place between Crowchanger and Stormweaver, about a year before Stormweaver begins. Again, the characters in Stormweaver mention these events, so this will fill in the details.

I’ve got a few short stories lined up, too. One very short one is already available on here. Stab and Twist gives one of the scenes from Crowchanger from a different viewpoint, which was quite fun to write. There will almost certainly be one about Sylas coming to the Aerie and how the friendship with Casian came about. I’ve also got a story about Sylas set in Namopaia. It’s about what happens between Zynoa and Craie when Sylas starts to change, but it will probably be available as a link from the end of book 3. It has massive spoilers for the whole series, really, so I’d not want people to read it before reading the novels.

So there you go. Lots of Chandris stories in the pipeline. They may not all come out one after the other, though, as I’m feeling the need to flex my writing muscles on something new for a while. But I do love Chandris and its people, so I may not be able to resist.

Hey! I was interviewed!

I’m really quite excited by this–my first ever interview.

I’ve chatted with Philip Overby on Google+ for a while now, and when he offered an interview on his blog, I jumped at the chance.

We talk Crowchanger, gay protagonists, NaNoWriMo and fan fiction, amongst other things.

Check it out here.

A Little Brag

My copy editor finished her second (and final, this time round) pass of book 2, Stormweaver.

This was her response as she reached the end.

 ”
DAMN. I know I’ve read this before, and I know how it ends and all, but . . . I’m five pages from the end of Stormweaver and I just realized I had stopped breathing. Seriously. I held my breath during the actual climactic scene. (It’s not the one I hinted at last post. Heh. Heh heh.) This needs to be a movie. Just sayin’.
“

I told her when she finished editing Crowchanger that Stormweaver was better. She believes me now.

The Emperor’s Blades by Brian Staveley

I’d chatted to Brian on Google+, so when I saw an ARC of his first novel as one of the giveaways at World Fantasy Con, I snapped it up. It took me longer to get to reading it than I’d hoped, but it still means that I’ve finished it within a week of its release, which isn’t bad.

This isn’t an in-depth review, but it’s what I’ve posted on Amazon and Goodreads, with a few changes to the last paragraph, because I can give half stars here.

***

The Emperor’s Blades is good old-fashioned epic fantasy. Which is not to say that it’s derivative. Sure, there are tropes here that will be recognisable to fantasy readers, most notably the “something happens which gives a character a special power” thing, but honestly, that doesn’t matter. It’s well-written and well-paced, keeps you turning the pages, and there weren’t any parts when I was flicking ahead.

When the emperor is murdered, his three children are left to secure his throne for the heir, Kaden. Their father has chosen different ways to harden his children for the task ahead: Kaden, the heir, has been sent to study with monks in a Tibetan-type setting; Adare, the only daughter, is trained politically within the court; Valyn has been sent to become a Kettral–one of an elite fighting force. Their stories seem destined to meet and part at intervals during the story, and for much of this first book, we see the three youngsters individually, learning what they will need to know.

There are fights in this. There are murders, battles, and so on, but without the glorying in blood and gore which has become so prevalent in fantasy of late. I’m not a grimdark fan, and this for me was a clearing breeze, blowing away some of the despair and torture I’ve been reading of late.

I’ll certainly be reading the rest of the series, and it’s worthy of a sound 4.5 stars out of 5.

Stab and Twist

I’ve been trying to write more short fiction recently. Partly because it’s honestly not my forte, but also because if I can get some short stories published somewhere, it’s all good exposure.

I spotted a prompt recently, which was to write a short story on the theme of betrayal. Rather than write something entirely new, I thought I’d adapt a scene from Crowchanger. It’s a useful one, because although there are little spoilers for anyone who hasn’t read it, the scene happens quite early on in the book, so it’s not going to spoil any of the climax. In the book, the scene is written in third person, from Sylas’s point of view. The new slant on it, is that I’ve done this in first person, from Fienne’s point of view. She isn’t a viewpoint character in the book, so this is the only thing I’m likely to do from her perspective.

STAB AND TWIST

By dawn, the children were already carrying water from the well for washing. We used it cold. Not even a betrothal warrants wasting precious fuel to heat water. In the desert, we are used to discomfort.

I made sure to wake Pietrig myself. Aithne and Kael’s wedding celebrations had gone on late, but Pietrig had come home later still, and filthy with it. He’d been with Sylas; I could tell. Our father and Sylas’s had gone to great lengths to keep them apart, but the soot from the kiln—their meeting-place of old—gave them away.

I pumped Pietrig for information, though he was barely awake.

“Did he say anything? Is he willing?”

Pietrig spluttered as I poured cold water over his head. He scrubbed his fingers through his dark curls, rubbing behind his ears and down his neck. Funny. I used to help wash him when he was little, and here he was, wearing the gem in his ear, a grown man. Sooty water ran in rivulets over his shoulders.

“They’ve told him.”

“Is that all? Does it please him?”

Pietrig shook the water from his hair. “What do you think?”

I didn’t have to think; I knew. I’d talked to Sylas before he left. All he wanted was to be a changer and escape the village, his father, the linandra pits—everything that makes our people the lowest of the low, and him lowest of all.

“I think he’d want to stay at the Aerie.”

But his father would never allow that. After only three children, one dead these several months, Craie needed grandchildren to raise his status. Although most suspected Sylas would sooner lie with a man, Craie would still force him into marriage for his own ends.

“I know why this betrothal is happening, Fienne. To free me from the dig team. Father’s giving me a future by taking away Sylas’s. It stinks.”

Pietrig wasn’t meant to be a linandra digger; he was meant to follow father as village elder. But if Sylas took his place in the pits, Pietrig could come home, and Sylas marrying me would drag his family off the bottom rung of our village’s ladder.

As a marriage proposal, it did indeed stink.

#

The morning was cool; the clean dress fresh against my skin. Sylas was freshly scrubbed, all hints of soot washed away. The linandra bead that marked his adulthood glinted in the early sun, but the bead on the thong about my neck was a sham. It proclaimed me a woman, but I was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and I had never bled.

My stomach fluttered. It’s expected for the girl to be nervous, but Sylas looked just as tense, and I wondered what had passed between him and his parents. When I tried to catch his eye, to give him a reassuring smile, he looked past me, to where the rest of my family stood. To Pietrig.

Can there be anything more soul-destroying than knowing your betrothed loves your brother better?

I’d guessed years ago. Pietrig would flirt with the village girls—sneak a kiss when he could. But Sylas only had eyes for Pietrig. Would Sylas even want to take me to his bed when we were married? Had that too been part of my father’s plan? To blame him when I failed to conceive?

When my father suggested the betrothal it seemed ideal. I loved Sylas like another brother already. He’s a good man, kind and gentle. But I didn’t think they’d trick him; I thought he knew. I’d sooner he had been happy about the match, but could I lay my hand on my heart and say I wouldn’t marry him even if he was unwilling, knowing this might be my only chance? The Lady knows my shame, I reasoned, and still she has brought this man to be my betrothed.

As we stood, waiting to be joined, my betrothed-to-be tried to catch my brother’s eye. When at last he succeeded, he tensed and looked uncomfortably away. Shifting, he stared across the circle to where his own family were gathered. He and his mother were so very close. What were they conveying to each other with those lingering looks?

My father took my hand to lead me towards Sylas. Sylas’s father took his elbow and tried to do the same, but Sylas shook his father off. He muttered something. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I could guess the intent from his truculent posture. A chill ran through me, and my heart beat so hard, I thought my father could hear it. My father leaned close, his breath tickling my ear when he spoke.

“Take his hand, child. Many men are nervous when it comes to it. He will do it for you.”

I held out my hand, and Sylas looked at me, his eyes full of pain. He didn’t want to hurt me, I could tell, but he would do it all the same. I wanted to run. To hide. To pretend this wasn’t happening. But the whole village was watching. I had to see it through.

He looked like an animal in a trap.

“I’m sorry.” He barely whispered the words, but I read them from his lips.

His father yanked his arm. “Take it. Take her hand, damn you.”

The look he gave me broke my heart. “I can’t. Fienne, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

It’s only nerves, I told myself. It has happened before, one partner hesitating, realising the importance of the vows. But I could hear villagers shuffling behind me. This was not just nerves. They could tell something was wrong.

“Please, Elder Skarai. Don’t do this to her. Take her back to your wife. Say we made a mistake. Say she refused me. Say she loves another. Please don’t do this.”

I tried to speak, could feel my lips trembling as I did so. “But I would not refuse you. You are the gentlest man in the village. I would have you as my husband before any of them. When my father asked me, I agreed right away.”

He raised his head and looked over my shoulder, far into the distance. I didn’t need to turn to know he was staring at the mountain on which the Aerie lay. Thinking of his dreams of changing; his future, left in tatters because of me.

“I cannot marry you, Fienne. I will not.” Then to my horror, he raised his voice so all the village could hear. “I will not take her, do you hear me? I will go back to the Aerie. I cannot marry. Not Fienne. Not anyone. I mean to be a changer.”

“You’ll do as we say, young Sylas!” My father tugged at my hand, and Craie did the same to Sylas. Was there ever a less auspicious start to a marriage than a man and woman’s hands being joined by force? I wanted to scream at them to stop, but I controlled myself.

“No,” I said, and the words caught in my throat. “If he does not want me, I would not have you force him.”

“He will do as he is told, girl, as will you.” My father would never normally speak angrily to me. “Who do you want in the desert: Sylas or your brother? Your brother, who will lead after me?”

Pietrig was right, I thought bitterly. All this was to release Pietrig from the digging—from the life in the vents that rotted men’s lungs and ate the skin from their faces. Had he been part of their schemes?

Sylas raised his voice. “They try to trick my father. The girl is barren. She has had no flows. She should never have had the bead. I will not marry her.”

No one moved. No one spoke. I stared at him, speechless. He might have come to this betrothal unwillingly, but to shame me before everyone…

My eyes threatened to overflow, but I would not cry in front of him. I would not let him see how deeply he had wounded me.

“Who— Who told you? They said it was a secret—that no one beyond family knew of it. How could you do this to me, Sylas? In front of everyone. Omena’s wings, but I thought you cared for me a little.”

No one beyond family.

I had washed the soot from Pietrig’s body myself.

Pietrig had slept with Sylas last night, of that I was now certain. And at the kiln, in the throes of lovemaking or in the quiet after, he had told Sylas my secret. The one thing he had sworn no one outside family would know. He had told him I was barren, and now the entire village knew.

I ran home sobbing. Sylas was not my betrothed, nor ever would be now, but he had been my friend. Pietrig was my own blood.

A friend’s betrayal stabs deep, but a brother’s betrayal twists the knife.

The First Post!

So, it seems I need a blog/website.

This is likely to be a somewhat random barfing of ideas, snippets of stories, and background from the novels. So if you’re interested in that sort of thing, welcome aboard!