Michael Puttonen's Blog - Posts Tagged "sanyel-series"

After a detour to work on a website, I have returned to writing Circles and Stones, the third novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. I am twelve chapters in and decided it was time to show another excerpt. It is still in draft form, but the finished product should look similar, only more polished. I hope you enjoy it. Here’s the setup:

Sanyel, Izzy, the priest Borsar, and rebel leader Trayvan have been making their way to the city of Grell in order to find and rescue Borsar’s son from the clutches of Danara, the madwoman who has abducted him. Deserted homes at the outskirts of Grell alarm the travelers until they learn that the starving residents have gone to the inner city to claim free food promised by Danara. A frightened elderly man tells Sanyel of a ruthless gang that has appeared on the surrounding streets, taking advantage of the missing inhabitants to rob homes. The man has witnessed a brutal murder of an elderly woman by the gang, and now the murderous group has found Sanyel and her companions.

Izzy tapped my arm. “We have company.”

A man had appeared in the street and was standing about twenty paces from us. Another then showed to his left, walking from between two houses to the center of the street to stand beside the first. A third came from the opposite side of the lane and joined the other two. They stood there eyeing us in a relaxed and confident manner. Two of the three men displayed malevolent grins.

I glanced down the street in the other direction. A fourth man had placed himself in the middle of the avenue about the same distance from us as the other three.

“It’s them!” the old man informed us. “The rovers!”

“I see only four,” said Izzy. “You said there were six or seven.”

“They will kill us all!” the man said in reply, not bothering to address Izzy’s concern over the numbers.

“I see another,” said Trayvan. “He is on a high balcony directly across from us.”

I glanced over and spotted the man. He made no effort to conceal his presence.

Another man had joined the one standing alone in the street. That made six. I didn’t see a seventh.

“You there,” the first man hailed us. “We’d like to talk to you.”

One of the two standing next to the man chuckled and the other's malicious grin widened. I knew their type. Conversation didn’t interest them. They wanted self-amusement. They would use talk as a means to induce fear, as a preamble to a delightful game of torture and slaughter.

The speaker appeared to be about thirty, sported a dark tan, and was a bit flabby around the middle. His tangled, filthy blond hair reached down to touch uneven shoulders, one of which had a pronounced slope, as if it had mended improperly from past injury. He wore a two-piece outfit, with the lower half consisting of a pair of puffy-legged, dirty blue pants that extended from his ample waist down to his ankles. The upper half was a loose, unadorned, long-sleeved, and once-white shirt tucked in at the waist and open at the neck. The man wore nothing on his feet.

The rest of the men were younger, most of them not much past the age of twenty, and the style and condition of their clothing matched that of their leader. Despite their youth, these men gave off no whiff of innocence, no odor of virtue. These were hardened criminals. Their demeanor revealed that truth, and the cruelty the old man had witnessed against the elderly woman had confirmed their vicious natures. All of them owned wicked-looking knives that dangled from sashes around their waists.

“So talk,” said Trayvan. “But first, we’d appreciate it if you’d come closer. We can’t carry on a decent conversation at this distance.”

I loved Trayvan’s approach. That is how I would have spoken to them. Show no fear and make them second-guess the capabilities and defensive readiness of their targeted victims.

The blond man eyed Trayvan’s sheathed sword and then he swept his sharp gaze over the rest of us. I caught a slight smile when he noticed that neither the priest nor the old man carried weapons. He appeared startled that Izzy and I bore arms but then seemed to dismiss any concern over that. What had he to fear from two young females, one of whom had a missing arm?

I glanced up at the man on the balcony and a new sight confronted me, one that drew my anger. The man had strung a rope across several of the balcony posts. Human heads hung from hooks attached to the rope. I counted six. One was that of an elderly woman. One was the head of a child. The man squeezed his mouth into a taunting smirk as our eyes met.

“If your group will kindly drop your weapons, I don’t see why we can’t have a friendly conversation,” the blond man was saying, his tone affable.

I turned my sight from the balcony lowlife to the speaker.

“We will drop nothing,” I informed him. I paused and then said, “No, that is not completely true. Very soon, I plan to drop that smirking fool off the balcony to the street. Then, I will cut off his head, attach it to a hook, and hang it from his own rope.”

My bold threat, so calmly stated, surprised the rover leader. Encountering a confident young female voicing a challenge to his pack of male predators was probably the last thing he expected. He stood for a moment with mouth agape. Then he laughed.

“You are quite amusing,” he said. “I don’t know how you plan to drop Bransor from the balcony, but the fact that you said you would has already had a devastating effect on my friend. Look how sad you have made him.”

I glanced up and saw no change in Bransor’s demeanor, as his smirk remained.

“I’m thinking Bransor has plans for you,” the rover leader continued with good humor. “I’m thinking he will find a prominent place for your pretty head among his collection. Of course, when he has your head, it will not look as pretty as it does now. Still, one’s looks don’t last forever, do they?”

I’ve learned to be wary of those who threaten with calm, cheerful voices. They tend to have greater intelligence and deviousness than your blustering, angry types. I’m sure he would have continued speaking, but I tired of his talk. I had promised to drop the head collector from the balcony to the street. It was time to honor that vow. I unslung my bow from my shoulder. The rover leader eyed my move with cautious interest.

“What have you there?” he asked. “I am not familiar with that device.”

I wasn’t sure if the man suspected the “device” was a weapon. It was, of course, and he’d find that out soon enough. This man’s culture, as old as it was, had not developed the bow and arrow. Mine hadn’t either, but I was lucky to have come across this remarkable weapon during my last adventure. That was to my advantage now, as I had an element of surprise. I ignored the man’s question and instead spoke to his gang as a whole.

“I give you no options,” I said as I fitted an arrow to the bowstring. “I will not allow any of you to surrender or flee. You will pay for your murderous crimes right here and right now.”

The head rover no longer found my defiance amusing.

“Stupid girl! It seems you don’t realize the peril of your situation. Your empty threats are useless. What does your toy weapon do, throw pointed sticks? Do you think that can stop us? Who are you, some brainless, spoiled brat who always expects to get her way? You are in my world now, girl, and you’ll not get your way with me.”

I was about to respond when Borsar held up his hand to stay my reply.

“She is not what you assume, and you really should not talk to her that way,” he advised the blond rover. “Murdering that old woman and displaying those heads was a foolish thing to do. This remarkable young girl sometimes grants the wicked second chances. She did so with me when I was less than deserving. I feel, however, that she is in no mood to give second chances today. Accept that you are all dead men. It is your misfortune that on this day you have met the Disrupter. She will show you no mercy … and yes, she always gets her way.”


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt. More will follow in future update posts.

My latest book, Circles and Stones, the third novel in my Sanyel series is now available for purchase at online book retailers. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This exciting, entertaining, adventure-filled series features an astute teenage protagonist, the daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated culture. She is gifted with abilities beyond the norm, and those gifts assist her as she challenges the status quo regarding a woman’s place in her society. Her influence affects not only her tribe but extends far beyond it, for her destiny appears to involve bringing change to the wider world.

Each novel in the Sanyel series is a complete, self-contained adventure story with a plot that closes. Threads continue into the subsequent novels, but the main storyline in each concludes. Circles and Stones is nearly 400 pages of action and adventure featuring Sanyel, a teen girl who survives in her world by being smarter and more skilled than her adversaries. The book is also available in paperback. Here’s the book blurb:

Teen shaman Sanyel and her friend Izzy have agreed to help rescue a former enemy’s son from the boy’s abductor, a prominent, powerful leader. Their mission takes a strange turn when various people—both known and unknown to the rescuers—inexplicably begin to appear and then disappear before their eyes. As these bizarre events grow in number, the adventurers continue their challenging rescue mission, becoming increasingly aware the ongoing, mysterious appearances and vanishings might hold a greater peril than their bold, risky attempt to free the boy.

I offer the first novel in the series, Sanyel, FREE in ebook form at most online book retailers to give readers an introduction to this exciting series. Here are some of the places you can find it:
http://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael-...
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sanye...
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebo...
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/sany...
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...

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I have begun writing the fourth book in my ongoing Sanyel series, provisionally titled Bones of the Gods. I will post updates on my progress both here and on my website. To set the scene, nearly one year has passed since Sanyel's latest adventure, and she has settled down to a quiet life, hunting at her leisure, and fulfilling her gratifying duties as tribal shaman. She realizes, however, that her tribe's security depends on learning what potential threats exist beyond its borders, and thus feels it is time to return to an ancient mountain facility where a remarkable spinning globe shows their planet in living detail. She knows that the globe, a remarkable, highly sophisticated device from a long vanished, advanced civilization, can show any location in the entire world to her in real time, right down to a clear visual of an individual rock or human being.

When an old acquaintance arrives with a request for Sanyel to help find his missing wife and daughter, she welcomes this opportunity to test the globe's capabilities. However, nothing is ever as easy as it appears, and Sanyel will wind up on another adventure that will prove both harrowing and mysterious, and could lead to a valuable discovery.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about them.

I have completed writing the first six chapters of my latest novel, Bones of the Gods, the fourth book in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This exciting, entertaining, adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the daughter of a tribal shaman, who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated culture. Gifted with abilities beyond the norm, those gifts assist her as she challenges the status quo regarding a woman’s place in her society. Her influence affects not only her tribe but extends far beyond it, for her destiny appears to involve bringing change to the wider world. To give readers an idea what to expect from the upcoming novel, I will post occasional excerpts, beginning with this brief opening to the first chapter. The writing is still in the draft stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Chapter One

My seventeenth birthday had passed unnoticed. I only knew it had occurred because the cold early-spring storms that traditionally mark this time of year had dwindled to nothing. My tribe, the Sakita, has no precise means to mark and record time’s passing, so we measure that passing by the seasons. I had been born during a spring hailstorm, and this year’s spring had apparently overtaken its midpoint, for the weather had warmed and the wicked ice storms had ceased.

I am Sanyel, shaman of the Sakita tribe. This past year had gone by swiftly, and I reflected on how settled my life had become in that span. My last venture outside our tribal lands was the previous summer when my friend Izzy and I helped the priest Borsar rescue his son from the madwoman Danara. My relaxed life since had consisted of enjoyable hunting forays and attending to my numerous medicine man duties. It had been a good year, one of peace and prosperity for my people. Births in our tribe had outnumbered deaths for the first time in a long while. The wild herds were plentiful and the seeded crops bountiful.

Still, I had begun to grow restless. I had long wanted to learn about other parts of my world, and I knew a large, spinning globe in a hidden mountain cavern could show me what currently existed in those places. With summer again fast approaching, the urge to return to the secret mountain facility began to grow.

A year ago, members of my tribe had found in that mountain cavern seventeen-year-old Gamaal, now eighteen, a young man still alive after thousands of years in suspended animation. He told us of a virus that had nearly wiped out the world’s human population and how desperate scientists had created this mountain facility. They had designed pods that would allow a small group uninfected by the virus to remain frozen in time. At some point, they hoped it would be safe for them to reemerge into the world, a world they expected to find devoid of human life. They would then try rebuilding that world.

That group, however, had been a bit premature in its assumptions. The virus had indeed decimated the population, but a scattered number of people managed to survive the illness, and although their world quickly reverted to a primitive level, those survivors started the slow rebuilding process long before the sleepers' scheduled awakening.

Sadly, the expected awakening never occurred. An unfortunate natural event triggered a malfunction inside the hidden cavern facility, causing the group to remain in hibernation for thousands of years instead of the hundreds they had planned. In addition, a tragic human error had reduced nutrient flow to the sleepers over time, and nearly all had died long ago within their pods of slow starvation. Only two of the brave pioneers survived and only one into our present. Gamaal.

Gamaal’s ancient civilization had been highly advanced, and his culture had trained him in science. He had an in-depth knowledge of subjects beyond our primitive tribe’s comprehension. His intricate familiarity with these complex studies had proved valuable. Just this past year, his expertise had helped prevent the escalation of a bizarre occurrence where time itself had blurred its edges, causing past and future events to overlap with the present. Gamaal had solved that problem, discovering its cause as a power unit malfunction at the mountain facility that had enhanced a naturally occurring phenomenon.

Now, I wanted the young man’s assistance in learning what lay beyond the few land areas currently familiar to us, for our tribe had remained isolated for thousands of years, and we knew little of what existed in the rest of the world. Only Gamaal knew how to operate the planetary globe, a device from his time that showed the present state of our entire planet in astonishing living detail.

I hope you enjoyed this short excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post longer excerpts in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about them.

I am currently writing Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This exciting, entertaining, adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. I have run into some delays in my writing schedule, and thus have completed only nine chapters to this point, but I hope to pick up the pace soon. I am posting occasional updates and excerpts as I write the story, and you can read the latest excerpt below, preceded by a setup to the scene. The writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

A past acquaintance of tribal shaman Sanyel has requested her help in discovering the reason behind his family's recent disappearance. Kersla, a former slave Sanyel had helped free two years ago, claims that while he traveled a familiar road with his wife and daughter, they vanished without a trace. A mysterious droning sound had caused Kersla to fall asleep, and when he awakened he found his wife and daughter gone. Sanyel, her mate Javen, and Sanyel’s good friend Izzy have agreed to accompany Kersla to his homeland to investigate. Sanyel, as always, wears a bracelet made of various animal bones. These bones grant a power to her, and only her, a strange power that has served her well in the past. Thanks to Kersla, she has recently acquired a bone fragment from an animal called a tok. Sanyel had previously been unfamiliar with the creature, but will soon find its bone a valuable acquisition. Sanyel is said by others to hold a special relationship with the sun god. She uses that perception to her advantage, even while she half-doubts its validity, and she will soon need to again convince others the relationship is real. The long journey to Kersla’s homeland has brought the group to a small hamlet previously visited by the former slave, a place where they hope to water their animals and find a meal.

tok—a domesticated animal raised for meat
Sester, Ra-ta, Mim—all names for the sun god
droove—a cross between a horse and a camel


As we approached the hamlet, several people working the outlying fields became aware of our presence. Their reaction surprised. They began a hurried migration toward the main settlement. Others noticed their departure, and upon spotting us, they too abandoned what they were doing and began rushing toward the village.

“What’s going on?” I asked Kersla.

“I don’t know. No one reacted like this when I came through earlier.”

This community was little more than crudely constructed wood buildings that lined both sides of the rutted dirt track, with the structures numbering, by my guess, no more than fifty. Before the road’s entrance to the village, a group of men had quickly gathered, armed with an assortment of weapons that included axes, spears, and swords. We slowed our approach and then stopped when ordered to do so by a tall, bearded man in the forefront of this party of about thirty men. Those men began to spread out and surround us.

“Who are you,” the tall man spoke, “and why have you come here?”

Kersla took the lead in answering.

“My name is Kersla, of the Barala tribe. We have a settlement located a six-day ride from here. I am returning home.”

“I am unfamiliar with that tribe,” the suspicious man replied. “What are you doing in our country?”

The question flummoxed Kersla. “Well, I had to make a long journey and it took me through here. Now I am returning the same way. One of you must recognize me. I ate at the place that stands at the end of the road.”

A member of his group approached the tall man and they conferred. The leader then said to us, “Roff remembers you ate tok in his eatery, but that doesn’t—”

“May I ask what this is all about?” I interjected.

My voice appeared to startle the men, and they swiftly focused their attention on me. Their surprise seemed exaggerated, indicating to me that this was perhaps another of those communities where women remain silent while men discuss important world matters. The tall man confirmed that impression.

“No one told you to speak, girl,” he reprimanded. “You will remain silent while we—”

“Hold on,” warned Kersla, bristling. “You will not address her in that disrespectful manner.”

The tall man showed disbelief and annoyance over the unexpected rebuke. Uneasy, I glanced at Javen to check his readiness in case this situation should suddenly explode. He seemed poised to act should it prove necessary. Izzy was observing with her usual serene demeanor, a mask that disguises her ability to react instantly to any trouble that might develop.

Indignant over Kersla’s censure, the tall, bearded man growled, “If you don’t want your women disrespected, traveler, you should train them to keep their tongue while men are speaking.”

Kersla, with a dismissive reply, said, “I’m not in the habit of training women. They are not animals. Besides, I would think it foolish of me, or of you either, to try telling the hand of Sester not to speak if she so desires.”

Kersla’s statement linking me to the sun god, and in such a close association, at first took the tall man and his fellows aback. Then, as one, they roared with laughter.

Their leader gave a contemptuous snort and said, “Hand of Sester? How idiotic do you think we are? Any delegate of the sun god would be a man, not some little girl, and he would have no reason to associate with a group of ordinary travelers like you. You are either delusional, stranger, or a bald faced liar.”

“What is it you want?” an irritated Javen then spoke. “Why is determining who we are of any concern to you? We have done you no harm. Why don’t you just state your reason for detaining us? We have no idea why you have initiated this confrontation.”

The tall man stared a moment at the muscular, dark-skinned youth. Javen’s common sense question had given him pause, and he appeared to realize it might have been better to state their concerns at the outset. He corrected the oversight.

“A man and his daughter from our community have vanished in the last few days, both while traveling this road together,” he stated. “We do not know what has become of them, for neither has returned home. We must confront strangers to determine if they had anything to do with the disappearances. You are the first to come to our village since the two vanished, so naturally, you are suspects.”

The man’s account surprised. More vanishings? What were we dealing with here? Did this relate in any way to Kersla’s family disappearing?

The man’s words excited the former slave and he said, “You have had disappearances, too? My wife and daughter vanished a month ago, and I have just returned with these companions to try finding them and those responsible for their kidnapping.”

The tall man remained skeptical.

“If that is the case, why spin this ridiculous tale of the hand of Sester? It makes you appear a liar, so why should we believe anything else you say?”

“He wasn’t lying,” I spoke, growing irritated over the man’s baseless suspicions.

“Keep your tongue, girl!” ordered a gangly teenaged youth standing to the right of my droove. He pointed a menacing spear up at me. “You have been told once and won’t be told again.”

The young man stood tantalizingly close. I can be impulsive at times, especially when my temper gets the better of me, and this was one of those times. My right hand darted, seizing the man's spear haft just below the spearhead, and with a mighty pull, I yanked the weapon from his grasp. Past evidence has shown that my right hand and arm possess the might of the sun god, Ra-ta (the name I prefer over Sester or Mim), along with enhanced dexterity and speed. I quickly reversed the direction of the spear and positioned its point firmly below the man’s chin before he could react.

“No one make a move or I will pierce this man’s throat.”

“No, please, no!” beseeched the suddenly terrified tall man. “Don’t injure my son!”

I had to admire the sun god for again arranging an advantageous scenario. The son of the man in charge just happens to be the one standing next to me? Often, Ra-ta does seem to set things up to grant me an edge in these dicey situations even when impulse rather than reason drives me. However, now I had to think of a way to sustain my advantage. A glance out to the fields gave me an idea.

“I have no wish to harm him,” I said, “but that depends on you. We are not responsible for your people disappearing. It is as Kersla told you. We're seeking those who kidnapped his wife and daughter. He is also correct that I am the hand of the sun god. I will prove it to you now.”

I held the spear steadily in place beneath the man’s chin with my strong right arm while surreptitiously sliding my balancing left hand a short distance up the shaft to touch the newest bone on my wrist bracelet. I then said in a loud voice, “Toks in the fields. Lie belly down in deference to me, the hand of the sun god.” As I spoke, I removed the spear from the young man’s throat.

At once, every tok within sight, on every field near and far, lowered itself to its stomach. The men witnessing this unprecedented, incomprehensible event gaped in stunned astonishment. Then, with facial expressions of fright and awe, they turned to me. Several dropped their weapons. A couple went to their knees, bowing their heads, which triggered a copying response from the remainder of the men.

Now, this was more like it I thought as I inwardly laughed. How many women get to experience a subservient and fearful response from men? However, my father warned me not to let such things go to my head, no matter how intoxicating. The enlightened soul never pretends he is above any other, no matter if others believe it true.

“Please,” I said to those crouched before me. “You need not bow or kneel to me. I do not request or require it. Respect is all I demand, which is something all people, men and women alike, deserve until proven unworthy of it. ”

I turned to the beasts in the fields and said, “Toks. Rise and return to what you were doing before I ordered you to lie down.”

The creatures did as commanded. I knew that my first instructions to the animals wouldn’t have endured even without the second command because the effects of my orders last for only twenty minutes before free will returns to the creatures. However, I hoped the second demonstration of my powers would reinforce my claim that I represented the sun god.

The display of total control over the animals did indeed have the desired effect. Even Kersla had gaped in awe over what I had done. He had not had a firsthand demonstration of my abilities until then, so I was glad I could give him a taste. Izzy and Javen had seen it all before, of course, and showed little reaction, although I could see they still admired how I had pulled this one off. Good thing Kersla had been correct in identifying the bone I retrieved from the grass earlier as that of a tok or this could have quickly turned embarrassing.

The men of the village hesitantly rose to their feet, appearing unsure how to act in my presence, even avoiding looking directly at me. I reiterated that I did not require their obeisance, and in addition, I told them I did not consider gazing at me an offense. I smiled to reassure them, and soon the men grew less apprehensive.

“What is your name?” I now asked the tall man.

The village leader, no longer the confident figure he had been moments before, replied with deference, saying, “I am Dravek, your . . . Please, how do I address you?”

“Won’t ‘girl’ suffice?” I said, then laughed. “Isn’t that how you addressed me before?”

Dravek’s expression turned pained and fearful. “Please, hand of Sester, forgive my ignorance and any offense I might have given,” he pleaded.

“I’m joking,” I reassured him. “You have nothing to fear from me. I no longer turn to stone every man who offends me. Who wants a world covered in male statues?”

Of course, I had no such power over men or stone, but I rather enjoyed seeing the response to saying I had. I believed the male villagers found my visually arresting comment unsettling, for I’m sure they thought me capable of making it happen.

“You can call me Sanyel,” I told them, “and don’t be afraid to speak as freely to me as you would anyone. I won’t bite. Just don’t talk to me about weaving baskets. I won’t dignify the subject with a response.”

Javen laughed loudly over that, for my aversion to basket weaving was a running joke in our tribe. His laughter helped the men realize that the remark was meant to be humorous, which caused several to emit a nervous chuckle in response, even though they did not understand the joke.

“My companions and I plan to rest awhile, eat some food, and be on our way,” I then said. “If we can help you solve the mystery of your vanishings while here, we will be happy to do so.”


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about them.

I have been posting occasional updates and excerpts as I write Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This exciting, entertaining, adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. I have completed about 40,000 words and felt it was time to share another sample. Following is the latest excerpt, preceded by a setup to the scene. The writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel has been investigating the disappearance of the wife and daughter of a past acquaintance. This man, Kersla, along with Sanyel’s mate Javen and her good friend Izzy, have heard accounts of other vanishings during their journey to Kersla’s country. While stopping in a village to eat, Kersla recognizes two men who he claims eyed him suspiciously when he had passed through a different town earlier, when on his way to enlist Sanyel’s help. The two men again arouse suspicion, so Sanyel and her friends decide to tail them. After an ambush by the two men, who had their own suspicions of Sanyel’s group, the group learns that the men, Jankan and Kenter, are in fact allies, investigators sent by the local governor to find the perpetrators of the kidnappings.


Governor Tolkin’s agents informed us that they had been traveling the region for the past two months. Not wishing to alert those responsible for the vanishings to the investigators' true purpose, they had kept their mission masked, pretending to be investors seeking business opportunities. They would strike up conversations with people in villages or other areas, and during these general conversations, they would manage to slip in that they had heard about someone disappearing into thin air while traveling a road in the region. They would pretend to have apprehension over taking roads unsafe for travelers. If a vanishing had happened in that village or nearby, they figured people would then be eager to talk about it.

“So, what have you learned?” asked Izzy.

“Well,” said Jankan, “out of the twenty or so villages we have visited so far, only one knew of a recent vanishing, a man who disappeared on a journey between his town and another. However, at a meeting held a month ago with the other agents assigned to this investigation, we exchanged information on what all of us had found to that point. At that meeting, our fellow investigators reported discovering the disappearances of fifteen people in the prior month, with these occurring over a considerably scattered area. Ten were male and five female. Three of the males and two of the females were children.”

“Do you have any physical descriptions of the children or their ages?” I asked.

“Ages yes, but little else,” said Jankan. “Is this important?”

“It might be. We’re not sure yet.”

“Well, I’m afraid we didn’t get much on physical appearances. The boys were all young, all seven years old they told us. Oh, I remember someone said one of the boys had blond hair.”

An excited Kersla burst out, “Blond! It looks like you were right, Disrupter!”

“Disrupter?” said Kenter with a look of puzzlement.

“Just a name people gave me once,” I responded, dismissing it with a shrug.

“It seems quite an interesting name. I’d like to hear the story behind that,” said Jankan.

“There’s nothing to tell, really. Boring stuff. Let’s get back to the children. You said one of the boys had blond hair. That might be important, and I’ll explain why in a minute. But first, was there anything on the girls?”

“Both were twelve. Other than that, there was no other description. You have to understand that we were trying to be subtle in how we approached these conversations. We could casually ask how old someone was when the subject of a vanishing came up, but asking about hair color or other personal details would look suspicious. In retrospect, I feel the governor erred in not allowing us to conduct an open investigation. He should have let us state who we were and why we were there, so we would have reason to ask more detailed and intimate questions.”

“He didn’t because he thought that might alert the abductors that someone was on to them, correct?” I said.

“Yes,” replied Jankan. “I think he hoped one of our investigators would somehow catch them in the act, but we’d have to be damn lucky for that to happen.”

“You told us the girls were twelve,” I then said. “That and the boys’ ages seem to have a connection to something we have come across. We have found, on more than one occasion, a carved or painted drawing that depicts two children and a woman. By adding your information to what we already know, it seems the kidnappers have taken several boys around seven years old along with girls aged twelve. The drawings we found show a boy and a girl who could be around those ages. The boy is blond. Have you found anything like those drawings in your investigation, either carved into trees or painted on stone?”

Both Jankan and Kenter shook their heads.

“We’ve come across nothing like that,” said Kenter.

“That’s too bad,” I replied, disappointed. “But, even if you had, we still wouldn’t know if the picture had a connection to the vanishings unless we caught the perpetrators drawing it.”

“Do you have any clue who these abductors might be?” Javen then asked Jankan.

“No, but we have noticed a few patterns in how they operate. They appear to conduct this unsavory business with great planning. First, no abduction has taken place too near another. They make sure the distance between kidnappings is a reasonable one, and they all occur in remote areas, usually along a roadway.”

“With woodlands nearby?” said Javen.

“Yes,” Jankan confirmed. “Companions of those taken, people the kidnappers did not want for some reason, have reported that forested areas were nearby the abduction sites.”

“We have the same reports,” I said, “both about the woodlands and about people not taken by the abductors. Kersla, here, is one the kidnappers did not take.”

The agent’s eyes brightened over that information.

“That is interesting,” said Jankan. “The agents we met noticed a pattern involving those the kidnappers leave behind. Nearly all are older individuals or children who don’t match the age range you mentioned. Younger, fit men seem to interest them and only women aged around twenty-five to thirty. There seems to be no interest in children outside of seven for boys and twelve for girls.”

“They take women only around twenty-five to thirty?” I said, puzzled. I looked over to Kersla and asked, “How old is your wife?”

“She is twenty-nine. We have a considerable age difference.”

I had not known that, but it wasn’t that uncommon. My mother had been much younger than my father had been, too.

“I’m curious how the kidnappers know the ages of the children they take,” said Izzy. “Seven and twelve are exact numbers. How would they know the age of these children unless they had done some extensive research beforehand?”

I shrugged. “It’s another mystery to add to the pile.”

“What about a humming noise?” Kersla asked the two government agents. “Do the people left behind, the ones the kidnappers don’t take, mention that?”

Kenter and Jankan could not conceal their surprise.

“You heard this humming before your family’s disappearance?” Kenter queried.

“Yes. The droning came, filling the air around me. I woke up an hour later and my family was gone.”

“So, you fell asleep, too,” said Kenter, musing on that. “Those who were not taken by the kidnappers all reported the same thing. What could possibly make a noise like that, one that causes people to fall asleep?”

“We are as much in the dark as you are,” I said. “Despite a growing body of information, we have come across nothing that explains the droning.”

“What about past disappearances?” Izzy then asked. “We've been coming across evidence that vanishings have been occurring for years. If your ruler and his ancestors have overseen such a vast area for as long as you say, the government must have reports on those vanishings.”

“I believe this is true,” said Jankan. “Back when I received this assignment, I overheard a high-ranking official say something to another. They had been discussing the vanishings. He told the other that he couldn’t believe this was happening again.”

“If that drawing we told you about has any bearing on this, these disappearances might have been occurring for thousands of years,” I said.

Before Jankan could reply, a sudden, startling noise interrupted.

It was a loud, deep droning.


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

I have reached the halfway point in writing Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This entertaining, adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. I have been posting occasional updates and excerpts. Following is the latest sample, preceded by a setup to the scene. The writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel is helping a former acquaintance, Kersla, find out what happened to his kidnapped wife and daughter. They have discovered that a mysterious society has been abducting selected individuals throughout the country for possibly thousands of years. They currently pursue a man named Skodan, a member of one of several kidnapping crews that roam the region looking for victims. Skodan has escaped in a boat down a river gorge, believing he has foiled his pursuers. Sanyel and Kersla, however, have lucked upon a second boat Skodan tried unsuccessfully to release downriver. As they float down the lazy waterway, Skodan is at least an hour ahead of them, but they are content to pursue unseen, not wanting Skodan to know they are still on his trail. However, an obstacle now confronts them.

punch gun—a weapon from an ancient vanished civilization
rik-ta—knife


Up ahead and to the right, several boats had pushed out from the shore. I counted four. Each craft held two occupants, and they were on an intercepting course. Who were they? Friends of Skodan?

“What do we do?”

Kersla’s voice held apprehension. We couldn’t outrun them. They had a perfect angle that no maneuver on our part could change in our favor.

“Keep calm,” I told my companion. “We’ll have to see what they want. We can’t get past them. My weapons are ready to use if necessary.”

I didn’t have the punch gun. That would have been an ideal weapon for this situation. I had my bow, plenty of arrows, and my rik-ta. They would have to suffice.

The head boat had reached a point ahead of us, and the other three soon joined it, fanning out to block any hope of passage. A full-bearded man in the first boat pointed toward the right-hand shore, a clear signal for us to head there at once.

“Do what he wants,” I told Kersla.

He turned to me with anxious eyes.

“Are you sure? Can’t you work your magic on them?”

“I’m afraid there’s little I can do at the moment,” I admitted. Shooting my arrows at them was an option, but I didn't know their reason for detaining us. I might wind up killing innocents.

We headed the boat to shore while the other boats followed. Beaching the craft, we jumped out onto a strip that was wider and sandier than most areas bordering the river. I had been searching that shoreline as we came in, seeking something that might give us an advantage over our detainers, should it prove necessary. All I spotted was a set of crumbling stone steps embedded in the canyon slope about fifty paces from where we beached, steps that rose from the sand strip and extended to the forested canyon rim above. I thought it a safe guess to assume this group had made its way down to the beach from there. If these men proved hostile, we would have several choices: stand and fight, accept capture, or try racing down the shoreline in an attempt to escape. I didn’t like any of those options.

“Get on your knees, facing me,” yelled the bearded man as his boat touched shore, “and stay that way until told otherwise.”

We did as told, although I was becoming more uncomfortable with this situation by the minute. I carried my bow around my shoulder and a pouch of arrows on my back, ready to respond if bodily threatened. The group’s leader currently seemed more interested in the boat than in us, so he must not have realized the bow was a weapon, even though he had glanced at it. My guess was he saw a girl carrying the unfamiliar object and thus automatically dismissed any danger.

“Search their boat,” ordered the head man as the other boats landed. He was a thin man with a scratchy voice that sounded as if a rough tool had scraped away all its smooth edges. His age I couldn’t determine, though I thought he might be in his forties. He wore dirty clothes and sandals that had seen better days.

All of his companions were men. They varied in age, but all seemed to reflect the grubbiness of their leader. They seemed a no-nonsense group.

“What have you found?” the leader called to the two men examining our boat.

“Just some food and a couple of paddles,” one said in reply. “We’re still checking an open space we found in the flooring.”

The bearded man turned to us. “What valuables do you carry?”

I pondered how to answer that. “None,” I then replied.

That comment drew an unreadable stare. “Then you’re not much good to us are you?” he said, and he turned his gaze back to the boat.

“I can get you valuables,” I responded, trying anything to stall a possible unfortunate outcome for us.

He looked to me again, still with no readable expression. “Of course you can,” he then said in a bored manner, and he returned his attention to those searching the boat. It seemed he had judged, quickly and correctly, that my offer held no truth.

The man soon ascertained from his men that no valuables lay hidden in the depths of the boat. He now came closer to discover what we carried on us, and again he spotted the weapon slung across my shoulder.

“What is that?”

“It’s a bow,” I said, saying it as if anyone with any brains would know that.

“What’s it for?” the man asked, showing remarkable patience after getting attitude from me instead of a useful response.

I had been telling others that the device was an exercise tool, but I judged this man too shrewd to accept that explanation.

“It’s a weapon for taking down small animals, nothing to concern—”

The man came forward with surprising quickness and grabbed the bow, yanking it from around my shoulder, scraping some skin in the process.

“Show me how to use it,” the man commanded, “and no tricks.”

Tricks? Me? How could the man think me capable of such a thing?

“Do you mind if I stand?”

The man eyed me with that expressionless stare.

“Go ahead.”

I pulled myself to my feet and instantly shot my right hand out to retrieve my bow from the man’s loose grasp. The powerful yank with my formidable right arm tore the bow from the man as if taking a toy from a child, causing his previous blank expression to turn to one of surprise.

Faster than the batting of an eye, I grabbed an arrow from my back pouch, fitted it to the bow, and aimed the weapon at the man’s heart.

“This is how the weapon works,” I said to him. “This pointed rod flies from this taut string pierces your heart and kills you. Would you like a demonstration?”

The man’s companions began to edge toward me.

“Tell them to stay back, or you’re a dead man.”

The man raised a hand and his men halted. He appraised me with a keener interest than he had shown before. Imminent death does tend to sharpen one’s focus. I had noted that this crew carried only knives as weapons, so I felt I had an advantage with mine, a carrier of death from distance. I backed off a ways to put a little room between us. Kersla rose from his knees, followed, and then stood behind me.

“We seem to be at a stalemate,” the bearded man said.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand the word,” I replied. “We are not in equal positions. I could probably kill all of you before a single one of you could touch me. I am very fast and very efficient with this weapon. Still, even if I could kill only half your men, you would certainly be the first to die.”

The bearded man contemplated that and remained stationary, but one of his men made a subtle shift forward.

“Stay where you are,” I warned. The leader turned to look at the man I had addressed.

“Do you have somewhere to go, Petak?” he asked the man in a casual tone.

“Uh . . . no, Rettan.”

“Good. I had a feeling you didn’t.”

Rettan turned back to me. “So, how do we resolve our little dilemma?”

“Well, if you can answer a couple of questions of mine, I might just let you live and go your way.”

Rettan chuckled, showing that his hirsute face was capable of even more expressions than just surprise.

“I guess talk never hurt anyone. Ask your couple of questions.”

“Did you see another boat pass by here not long before we came along?”

“No.”

“You must have. How could you have missed it?”

“We just arrived.”

Rettan then smiled and said, “That’s two answered questions. Now you can let us go, as you said you would.”

“I said I might let you go.”

This was a hairy situation. I was adjusting on the fly. I had no idea if I could handle all these men if they decided to rush me.

Rettan smiled again, and only then did I catch the others' grins. They were furtively looking at something behind me and to my right, so I swiftly shot a glance that direction.

Oh, crap! From the heights above, armed men descended, crowding the steps embedded in the canyon wall. They were still a good distance away, having negotiated only a third of the stairway.

“Order them to halt and keep their distance,” I commanded Rettan, “or you’re a dead man.”

The bearded man shrugged. “I am not in command. Our leader is among those men coming down the steps. He would ignore any order I tried to give him, but if you shoot me with your weapon, he would not be pleased. Your situation is hopeless, young woman, for if you kill one of us now, things would go very badly for you and your friend. Surrender, and I promise no harm will come to you. We are thieves, not murderers.”

I didn’t know if he spoke the truth. I had no idea what to do. He knew I could not hold off all who now approached with my limited arrows. My bluff to kill him and those with him was no longer effective, and I had no other leverage.

“Disrupter, what do we do?” asked a nervous Kersla.

At Kersla’s words, Rettan’s countenance underwent a dramatic change.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Disrupter?” He stared at me with unabashed astonishment. “You are the Disrupter?”

This was an interesting development. He had heard of me. Judging by their similarly surprised exclamations, his men had as well.

“Yes, some people call me that.”

The man studied me closely, probably weighing whether or not to believe me. Then, he thought of a way to determine the truth of my claimed identity. “Will you show me the palm scar?”

I still held my bow stretched, with my arrow pointed to his chest, but I knew it was fruitless to continue pretending I had any advantage. Besides, Rettan had not demanded I show him the scar; his request had been polite. I released the tension on the bow and lifted my right hand to allow him to see the clearly defined red image of a spearhead burned into my palm, the mark of a childhood accident that had since become an infamous brand. A prophecy had mentioned the burn mark and identified its carrier as a person to be feared, a person the prophecy called the Disrupter. As I have related before, I fulfilled that prophecy a couple of years ago.

“You can put your weapon away,” Rettan said after viewing the scar. He then added, “You have no enemies here, Disrupter.”



I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

I have reached 70,000 words in writing Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. I have been posting occasional updates and excerpts. Following is another short sample, preceded by a setup to the scene. The writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel and her friends are helping a past acquaintance search for his kidnapped wife and daughter. While traveling a river gorge, thieves waylay them, but the two parties soon come to an understanding when the thieves discover Sanyel’s identity. As Sanyel sits on a forest stump conversing with Tolbane, a former shaman apprentice who is the thieves’ resident doctor, a disturbance draws them to Perlik, the son of a previous governor who reluctantly joined the thieves a couple years prior and who has since come down with a deadly illness that causes him to cough up blood. The thieves, especially a man named Rettan, do not respect Perlik and treat him with disdain, for he is the son of a ruler who collaborated with former occupiers of their land. Sanyel, however, has found Perlik worthy of her respect. Perlik owns a valuable sword that Rettan covets.

can-rak—fierce carnivore, the most dangerous creature on the planet, Sanyel’s spirit animal
starfen—squirrel-like animal
Sester—the sun god (also known as Ra-ta or Mim)


While conversing with Tolbane, the sound of a rough, persistent cough drew my attention toward the settlement houses. After a few moments, it stopped, and then a murmur of concerned voices began, soon intensifying. Tolbane and I rose from our stump seats to investigate the commotion.

Near a house centrally located among the others, a crowd had gathered. As we approached, I glimpsed a white form on the ground. The crowd parted as both Tolbane and I urged the people to let us through. Perlik lay on his stomach, motionless upon the forest soil, an outstretched hand clutching the square white cloth I had seen him use earlier. A fresh and sizable crimson stain stood out upon the rag’s pale fabric.

“Everyone step back,” I called out. Tolbane, who possessed medical training from his years as a shaman’s apprentice, knelt before the prostrate man and turned him over. He put an ear to the man’s mouth and then to his chest.

“He yet lives,” he told me, “but the breathing is shallow and the heart faint. I don’t believe he has long. He has been suffering from the bite of a sakraf for months.”

I had thought snakebite a possible cause of his illness. A sakraf was a slithering reptile with a lethal bite. There was no known antidote to its venom. The victim can function normally for months after the fatal bite, but eventually, a persistent cough develops. Once you start coughing up blood, sudden death could strike you at any time. Tolbane said Perlik knew all this, but he refused to let it rule what life remained to him.

Perlik then inhaled a cavernous breath and his eyes popped open. He tried to sit up but couldn’t, and he began to turn his head and look about wildly as if searching for someone. He sight landed on me. A weak arm gestured for me to come to him. As I knelt beside him, he grabbed my right wrist with unexpected strength, and he gazed with steady eyes into my own.

“The can-rak,” he began, and then his throat convulsed as if forcing a cough, but he managed to hold it off. He swallowed and said, “The can-rak said to give you this.” He guided my hand down to the sword at his side. “Take it with my blessing. It is yours now.”

At those words, his hand loosened and fell from mine. He slumped into stillness. I checked for signs of life and found none. Perlik was dead.

I informed the others, and a respectful hush descended upon us. While we stood in reverent silence, the sounds of nature persisted, unaffected by the man’s passing. Birds continued to chirp and sing. Insects buzzed with their usual urgency, oblivious to the solemnity of those standing in death’s presence. Wind disturbed the forest leaves and a starfen chattered.

Tolbane then spoke, breaking death’s spell and releasing us from its enchantment.

“Why did he want you to have his sword?”

“I don’t know.”

“He said a can-rak told him to give it to you,” said Rettan. “Sounds like he was delirious.”

“Probably,” I replied.

A can-rak told him. What could that mean? Had he stepped one foot into the next world and briefly returned with a message? Did my spirit animal speak to him?

“If you do not wish the blade, I will take it off your hands,” said Rettan, an expectant, desirous gleam in his eyes.

Rettan had seized the moment, seeing it as a perfect opportunity to gain possession of the valuable item, but he was out of luck. I did not intend to relinquish the sword to him, no matter how much he coveted it.

“No, I will accept Perlik’s gift. These things don’t happen by chance. I believe Sester influenced Perlik’s words. I feel the sun god wants me to have this sword.”

Whether that was true or not, I didn’t care, but I was not going to give Perlik’s heirloom to one who had treated him with such disrespect. Perlik had said a can-rak instructed him to give the sword to me, and the dying man had given his blessing as well, so I felt it my duty to honor his last request.


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

Before a catastrophic event that occurred five thousand years ago changed everything, the ancients referred to a particular world as Dar. Dar, an earthlike planet inhabited by humans, had existed for billions of years and had gone through all the stages of planetary evolution. Its twin moons (later called Numa and Nima by the ancients) had revolved around the planet from the beginning, watching dispassionately as a lengthy volcanic activity gradually decreased over time and allowed the molten seas and rivers to cool. A solid crust formed and water began to flow. Biological life took root, and in time it evolved into complex and diverse forms of flora and fauna. Giant beasts roamed the surface for a time, only to die off in several unrecorded planet-wide calamities. The world went on, new forms of life flourished—and then the first humans appeared.

These early humans banded together in small, primitive units and struggled to survive as hunter/gatherers. Those who did survive advanced the culture, and from their efforts agrarian societies eventually formed and then industrial ones. Villages became towns and towns became cities. Clashes over land, religion, culture, race, nationality, and every other possible area of contention abounded. As the population continued to expand, disputes grew in proportion, with individual conflicts, though still unabated, now dwarfed by raging international conflagrations. This world called Dar gradually became a technologically advanced one and eventually reached a point of reconciliation. Understanding, peace, and inclusiveness among its populations resulted in universally accepted rule through a global government. Then, disaster struck. A scientist wishing to extend his life for eternity unwittingly released a deadly virus upon the world. Billions died. The advanced society quickly crumbled for the simple reason that too few knowledgeable people remained to keep it organized and running. The fear that all humanity would perish proved false, however, for a small minority of humans remained immune. As is true in all groups, those destined to live included the high and low intellectually, spiritually, and morally. Smart, lazy, insane, brave, cruel, faithful, cowardly… Many of them would not survive the dystopian nightmare that followed, but those who did saved humankind from extinction.

However, this is not their story. Five thousand years have passed since the deadly outbreak decimated the world’s population. The name Dar has long been forgotten. Humans survived and in many ways thrived, finding a way to rise from the ashes of their near extermination. Isolated for all these years from each other, human societies have grown at different rates and in unexpected ways. Tribes of hunter/gatherers exist, along with more advanced cultures, though none has come close to reaching the level of the ancients. Thus, these pre-industrial societies still rely on the light of the sun, the moons, the torch, or the campfire to banish the darkness. Around those campfires, storytellers tell the tales. They regale with legends of the ancients, of a lost civilization sophisticated beyond imagining. They claim this world had vessels that flew through the air and swam beneath the sea. These remarkable ancestors lived in towering structures and spoke to each other over great distances. The stories perhaps embellish, but to this day, those tales still astound eager listeners who gather around the campfire to hear and wonder.

A young tribal girl, Sanyel, was one who marveled at these stories, not realizing that her world and that lost world of the ancients would one day intertwine. This is her story…

The first book in the Sanyel series, Sanyel, is FREE in e-book form at numerous online retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon for a free download of the complete novel :
https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

I see that several months have passed since my last update of Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel of my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. My writing progress has slowed these past several months, but I hope to pick up the pace soon. Meantime, here’s a sample from Chapter Nineteen, preceded by a setup to the scene. As usual, the writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel, her mate Javen, and her good friend Izzy have agreed to help a former acquaintance, an ex-slave named Kersla, locate his missing, presumed kidnapped wife and daughter. With the help of regional government agents Jankan and Kenter, they have accumulated clues pointing to a culture that for unknown reasons has been sending out small parties to abduct people for thousands of years. These abductors have ancient devices that aid in their kidnapping. One is a pendant that emits a droning sound that causes people to fall asleep, and the other is a multi-purpose device that protects the kidnappers from the noise’s effects. Kenter has fallen into the hands of one of these small bands, and after a brief separation, Jankan has rejoined Sanyel and her friends to pursue. They have been traveling by boat down a swift river gorge, but nightfall has forced them to shore until morning. During the night, a bird’s warning call has awakened them.

Sester—the sun god
punch gun—an advanced weapon from an ancient, vanished civilization
Gamaal—survivor from that ancient civilization, rescued by Sanyel and friends from five thousand years in suspended animation



A man’s throaty laugh reached us from upriver.

I glanced at our fire. It had nearly burned out, leaving only a few barely visible orange coals. No smoke rose from the charred wood. That was good. Nothing would give our presence away. A distinctive scraping sound returned my attention to the blackness upriver. It appeared someone had beached a boat on the gravel shore. Another scraping followed. Men’s voices, muffled by distance, alerted us that we had more than one visitor. Did two craft land or was the scraping from a single vessel?

Javen had crawled over to me and now whispered, “I’ll sneak over to take a look at our uninvited guests.” I nodded, knowing his practiced stealth as a hunter would allow him to get within viewing distance without detection, even in the dead of night. Izzy and Jankan had also moved up beside me as Javen rose and disappeared silently into the gloom. Kersla seemed content to remain where he was.

“Abductors?” suggested Izzy, keeping her voice low.

“Could be,” I replied. “Whoever they are, I can’t believe they were on the river. Traveling at night on swiftly moving water seems a bit risky, doesn’t it?”

“Not necessarily,” said Jankan. “They do have a bit of moonlight, so if you know the route well enough, you’d probably feel confident running it under that condition.”

As he spoke, a flickering light appeared not too distant up the shore.

“Campfire,” said Izzy. “Looks like they’re staying awhile.”

A faint smoke odor from the campfire drifted to us on the light breeze. We talked among ourselves in low whispers, waiting for Javen’s return. He arrived after a short period with disturbing news.

“Two boats of abductors,” he told us. “There are five men in all, one of them a prisoner, a young man.”

I groaned and then muttered, “I hate complications. Why didn’t they just pass by? Why did they have to stop here?”

“The sun god likes to keep our lives interesting,” said Izzy. She grinned and added, “Of course, interesting usually means difficult.”

I had to chuckle at that. That wasn’t far from the truth.

“I saw something strange with the prisoner,” Javen then said. “He didn’t seem normal. What I mean is that he paid no attention to his surroundings. He did what the kidnappers instructed him to do, but he showed nothing on his face. He didn’t even look at those telling him what to do. He just did what the men ordered.”

“Perhaps he was in shock,” said Jankan.

Javen frowned, skeptical, and replied, “I don’t know. He seemed almost—how should I say this—like his mind was under control or something. Oh, and he had something around his neck. It looked like a thin, circular object, like a necklace but plain, with nothing hanging from it.”

“Slave collar, maybe?” said Jankan. “Was a rope or chain attached to it?”

Javen shook his head. “No, I saw nothing like that.”

Izzy then offered her opinion for a course of action, saying, “Well, whatever it is, we won’t know unless we can examine it. Perhaps we should try to rescue the captive.”

She looked at me and nodded toward the bag holding the punch gun.

“You can’t be suggesting we risk confronting them!” said an appalled Jankan. “We’d be lucky to get anywhere near them. They’d put us to sleep, and we’d wind up waking to find some of our people missing.”

Jankan was understandably reluctant to confront the abductors. Through negligence, his partner was now a prisoner of the kidnappers. He must have felt a burden of shared responsibility for that outcome, and he didn’t want to repeat that mistake. However, he didn’t know we had a weapon that could preempt any attempt by the abductors to use their sleep device—if it worked. The punch gun could render their entire party unconscious and leave us unaffected. At least, I hoped it could. Possibly the smaller device the kidnappers carried might protect them against the effects of the punch gun, neutralizing it like it did their droning pendant. The only way to know was to try the gun and see.

However, Jankan knew nothing about the gun and neither did Kersla. Did we dare show them this formidable weapon? I knew that my worry about these ancient tools falling into the wrong hands probably approached paranoia, but this destructive device warranted that caution. Was there some way we could use it without those two becoming aware of it? I didn’t see any possibility of that, so I saw no recourse but to reveal it.

“I have not wanted to tell you this,” I said to them, “because it is a sensitive matter and one our tribe would rather keep secret from others.”

Jankan and Kersla were immediately curious.

“We have a powerful weapon that can put people to sleep, similar to what the abductors have, but we can narrow this device’s range so that it affects only a single person if we want it to. It's another device invented by the ancients.”

Jankan's eyes expanded.

“You have something that can do what they do, put people to sleep? Why didn’t you reveal this sooner?”

“It's a dangerous weapon,” I replied. “We've come to realize we don’t want it to ever fall into the wrong hands, so we are careful in its use and to whom we allow knowledge of its existence.”

“Dangerous in what way?” asked Jankan.

“It can kill.”

I didn’t elaborate but instead moved to the pack holding the weapon and withdrew it. The gun’s sleek, metallic skin shone in the moonlight.

“Stay here,” I said to everyone as I adjusted the gun’s control settings. “I’ll move in closer to our visitors and try to put them to sleep. I won’t be long.”

Jankan objected to me going alone, but Javen cut him off. “Let her go. She knows what she’s doing.”

As I moved off, I hoped this finicky weapon would decide to work this time. Gamaal had been unable to fix the gun’s inconsistency, declaring that a module charging issue played a significant part. We couldn’t alleviate the problem because we had no other module of that type with which to replace it. We never knew when the device had enough of an energy charge to function properly, for it could only reach ten percent of its standard capacity. That was sufficient to fire the weapon, and it didn’t affect the expelled electrical impulse's awesome power, but it left no reserve to shoot a second time. Thus, we had to let the weapon charge after each use, and the time it took to charge always varied, never seeming a predictable length. We hadn’t been able to determine if the gun’s misfires were due to trying to use the weapon while it was still charging or if an additional issue contributed to the failures.

We had not used the weapon for a long while, so I was confident the gun currently held its maximum ten percent charge. I had been walking upright in the moonlight but now began silently crawling over warm sand toward the campfire glow, moving between boulders to avoid open exposure for too long, though I doubted the abductors could see anything beyond the dazzling firelight into which they stared. I edged closer and then stopped behind a good-sized boulder, eased my head around it, and took a good look. I counted five figures sitting around a campfire, the number Javen had reported. Now was the perfect time to see if the gun worked—and to find out if the abductors had immunity to it. I realized that if the gun’s sting affected only the captive, then the ensuing commotion from the others might make it difficult for me to get back to my companions, but I was willing to take that risk.

I had set the stun setting wide enough to include those sitting and not so wide as to knock unconscious every other living thing in the area, though I knew any animals or birds within the zone of the discharge would unavoidably fall victim. I raised the weapon, pointed it, and pulled the trigger. A soft buzz emanated from the gun, and to my delight, five people crumpled.

“Dammit!” I then yelled for an unconscious kidnapper had toppled forward into the fire. I rose quickly, raced toward the camp, and dragged the man from the flames. I hurried to snuff out the small blazes that had caught hold of his clothing, and as I examined the unconscious man for any burn injuries, my companions arrived.

“What happened?” asked Javen. “Why did you shout?”

“This man keeled over into the fire. Lucky he didn’t fall face first. I don’t see any skin burns.”

Jankan stood staring at the sprawled bodies before saying in astonishment, “Your weapon did this?”

“Yes,” I responded, “but they only sleep.” I grabbed the gun from the ground beside me and handed it to Izzy, who then placed it in the pack from which I had retrieved it.

“I’m impressed,” Jankan then said. “These ancient devices are more remarkable than I ever imagined. And you say this one can kill? I’m sure my government would be very interested in looking at these items. Perhaps our brightest minds can figure out how to manufacture more.”

Jankan’s words chilled me. My worst fear regarding these ancient objects' potential abuse was materializing. However, I could do something about that. I stood and faced the government agent.

“You will speak to no one about the devices we have shown you. I can’t prevent you from attempting to make use of the abductors’ items, for your agents already know of them. But you will tell no one about my tribe’s machines.”

My tone, harsh and delivered with all the authority I could muster, took Jankan aback. He stared at me, probing for the reason behind my sudden anger. Then, he seemed to take issue with my demand.

“I’m afraid I can’t accede to your wishes. I am a loyal employee of my government, and duty requires I report to them anything I find of potential value.” A pained look crossed Jankan’s face. “I wouldn’t want to, but I have the authority to take your items from you, for by law all foreign products brought into the country are subject to confiscation if deemed a threat to peace and tranquility. But there’s no need for that. Why don’t we cooperate? We can both benefit from studying these devices.”

“You don’t understand,” I said. “The sun god will not allow you to have these items.”

That response mystified Jankan.

“The sun god?”

“Sanyel is the representative of the sun god among humans,” spoke up Kersla. “She's his right hand. That's why I came to her to help find my wife and daughter. Sester will guide her to them.”

Kersla wholeheartedly believed that because he grew up in a culture (as did I) in which the magical and mystical, along with an all-powerful creator, were readily accepted. Jankan, on the other hand, seemed to be a worldly, practical man, disinclined to believe that which he could not see and prove as real. He now shook his head and with an almost dismissive tone, said, “You claim to be this ‘right hand’ of Sester?”

“I do,” I responded. “The sun god has granted me certain powers, the nature of which I disclose to very few. People say he chose me as his divine representative to bring change to this world. He guides me on occasion, but most often he allows me to use my discretion in dealing with the people and circumstances I encounter.”

Though I had credited others with naming me the hand of Sester, I was, in truth, the only one perpetuating that alleged association. However, Kersla then boosted my assertions by telling Jankan he had witnessed my powers firsthand and thus he knew I was, in fact, the chosen right hand of the divine Sester.

Jankan opened his mouth to say something but then stopped, momentarily at a loss how to respond. He then said, “I have never been a religious man or one to believe in supernatural things, so please excuse me if I sound skeptical. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m having a hard time believing any of this.”

I knew I had to prove my assertion factual somehow, and as I struggled to find a way to do that, a solution appeared as if right on cue from the sun god. A raffer had stuck its pointed snout from around a small stone, and it had begun scurrying across the sand toward the safety of another. I casually crossed my arms low in front of me, letting my right wrist come to rest in the gentle hold of my left hand. With a quick glance at my bracelet of bones, I found the raffer fragment. While touching it, I spoke before the rodent could reach his sanctuary and escape my sight.

“Raffer, come to me, the hand of Sester, and sit before me.”

Jankan stared at me with incomprehension until startled by the small creature passing in front of him, heading my way. The raffer stopped before me and tilted its small head upward to gaze at me. I stole a glance at Jankan, and his confused face had altered into open-mouthed astonishment.

“Raffer, turn your head to look at Jankan.”

The sight was remarkable. The rodent sat in place, still facing me, and rotated its neck until its gaze locked upon the government agent. Added to the astonishment on the man’s face was now disbelief and alarm.

“Raffer, you may go about your business, but before you leave, please give us a little dance and a small leap into the air.”

The raffer did a pirouette on its hind legs, accomplished the short jump, and then scurried off.

I gave the astounded Jankan my best cold stare and stated, “As the hand of the sun god, power over animals is but one power granted me. The rest I won’t reveal, for you are not privy to them. I’ll simply leave the possibilities to your imagination, but I assure you they are formidable.”

I had only a couple of others, of course, one being an exaggerated strength in my right arm and the other an uncanny accuracy with weapons over long distances, but I didn’t want him to know that. I find it better to keep people in the dark as much as possible and let their minds conjure up greater terrors than those that actually exist.

Jankan continued to display his incredulous expression. He tried to speak.

“I . . . I don’t . . . I . . .”

“I know this is difficult to understand,” I said when realizing he was trying his best to grasp what he had seen and was failing. “I don’t comprehend it fully myself. Except for this inexplicable link to the sun god, I am in most ways just like everyone else. I don’t wish it to affect how people see me or react toward me. I value those who prove their friendship, but I can be a forbidding enemy to those who cross me and defy the will of Sester. I would like to think we are friends, and I would like to be able to count on your help in solving the mystery of the abductors. Can I?”

My words focused his attention, and for the first time since I’d known him, Jankan seemed unsure of himself. Then, he quickly regained his professional demeanor. “You can,” he said, his voice again steady and strong. “I apologize for my doubts. I see I have much yet to learn about what is true and possible in this world. Please forgive my ignorance.”

“Nothing to forgive,” I responded, dismissing his concern. “I do not profess any greater insight than the next person. I only have the extra benefit of Sester’s divine guidance, and that's not constant by any means. We are all human and thus imperfect. I claim no exalted position.”

“Well, we can all be glad of that,” said a chuckling Izzy in her direct and irreverent manner. “We all know you’d be insufferable if you did.”

Jankan showed surprise over Izzy’s bold, stinging comment, but then he heard my laughter in response. Quickly, he understood no one in my circle saw me as someone they felt obligated to elevate above them and that I didn’t see myself that way either. He seemed relieved.


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon where you can download your free copy : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael...

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.