Deby Fredericks's Blog, page 88

The Gellboar, Part 1

As promised, here is the first installment of my forthcoming e-book and podcast, The Gellboar.

Part 1

“And now,” blasted the loudspeakers, “here she is again: Miss! Christine! Cooper!”

Sparse applause greeted the woman who bounded on stage. She was tall and athletic, wearing a brilliant blue-sequined bustier above tight black pants. A flaxen ponytail cascaded behind bare shoulders. The harsh lights bleached her skin and hair nearly white, but those clothes kept their color. Music swelled, fast, aggressive, electronic. The performer sketched a figure eight in the air before her and clapped her hands. With a throaty bang, a moebius strip of fire appeared. The inattentive audience jumped in their seats, turning toward her.

At midnight on a Thursday, The Cauldron was mostly empty. Vacant tables made pale discs in the shadowed club, like lily pads floating on dark water. Beneath his tone of noisy hype, even the announcer sounded bored. With few customers to serve, the waitresses had begun turning up chairs well before the second show started.

Sitting at a table near the stage door, the other Christine Cooper watched critically. This one had dark hair falling to “her” shoulders in glossy waves. A crimson satin dress was tight over small breasts, then flowed in gentle pleats below the waist. At least there was no way the two of them could really be confused. The performer on stage was blue and gold, her style was fast and loud; her counterpart was red and black, softer, more feminine.

It had been something of an insult to learn they would be sharing the stage tonight. In fact, the Christine Cooper currently wowing the crowd was the real star. She had come all the way from Ishe, in the western provinces. The second one’s presence was just a gimmick. When the manager learned there were two magicians named Christine Cooper, he got the brilliant idea of hosting “Christine Week,” including a faux duel on Saturday night to decide who was the real Christine Cooper.

If only he knew. Of course, if anyone did find out that one of the performers was actually a man, Dan Forster, the club would be closed on the spot. Men were forbidden to use magic in Chantain. If Dan was caught, he might well be killed. But there were no monitors in The Cauldron tonight. He could spot those witches in a heartbeat, even when they didn’t shave their heads. And if there was, he had faith in his skill as a female impersonator. The invitation might be hollow, but Dan needed the money desperately, because Grace needed her medicine. Two years ago, he’d fallen behind on his bills after his wife, Marilyn, died. He never again wanted to see one of those alien creatures the hospital sent to collect.

But there was more to it than that. Dan needed magic even more than money. He needed the power, the thrill of bending the world to his will. The twin compulsions of magic and money made him put on women’s clothes, drew him to these cheap clubs. With his own show over, he leaned forward, staring intently as Christine turned her flaming hoop into gold foil, which quickly shaded into silver. A wave of her hand and it transmuted into water, showering the audience with sparkling droplets.

That Christine Cooper didn’t need a magic wand. She used only her hands, shaping her will on the air with quick strokes timed to the music. Her rival glanced anxiously at the shiny black wand lying on the table, as if it might somehow vanish. It was hard to imagine casting spells without a wand, and the Christine who watched wanted badly to know how his name-twin managed it. Eyes half-closed, he tried to sense the flow of psais, that mysterious energy which formed the basis of all life and magic.

Since the disastrous Spellwar, no one would teach a man magic. Dan had to learn when and what he could. If he picked up another spell or two this week, that would make up for the short pay.

“Miss Cooper?” A voice above his head distracted him from the performance.

“Yes?” Instantly he assumed the soft smile and sweet voice of his stage persona.

The smile became forced as he looked up at the alien standing over him. There were lots of these creatures in a city the size of Chantain — refuse and refugees of the Spellwar. This one looked familiar. And repulsive.

Like many aliens, it shrouded itself in a trench coat and fedora, a gesture of respect to the sensibilities of the humans who, however reluctantly, gave it sanctuary. But it stood too broad for its height, and the coat covered bulges that suggested something ugly underneath. Dan saw a flabby, grayish face. No hair showed beneath the hat. In the shadow of its brim, eyes glittered black and strangely refracted, too large for its face.

“Will you sign this, please?” The voice was a buttery growl, too high for such a heavy frame.

Dan swallowed his revulsion. He was sure he’d seen this creature before, had already signed his autograph at least once. Well, a fan was a fan, grotesque thought it might be. He didn’t have many.

“Of course,” he said in his nicest Christine voice. “It’s sweet of you to ask.”

Their hands touched as he accepted the paper and pen, and he did his best not to flinch from the clammy skin. All the while, he tried to keep one eye on the stage, where the other Christine had turned a broomstick into a snake and was swaying with it in a weaving, winding dance. Dan’s pulse quickened. She hadn’t used that spell during her earlier performance.

A hand fell onto his shoulder, ice cold through the thin fabric of his dress. “Miss Cooper,” the creature insisted.

“Oh, of course,” he tittered. “I’m sorry.”

Dan looked at the paper again, searching for someplace to sign, and paused, frowning. The sheet wasn’t paper, but some kind of parchment covered with angular runes. Although he couldn’t read the language, it had the unmistakable look of a legal document.

Canned music got louder, more dramatic. Dan looked up to see Christine juggling a set of rainbow-colored balls which she sent spiraling upward. They folded in on themselves and became a flight of rainbow-colored birds. He watched intently, following the flow of the magic.

As the birds winged over the audience, the alien’s hand tightened. Something slippery touched Dan’s neck. A tentacle! He jumped despite himself, trying to throw off the disgusting appendage.

“What are you doing?” he squealed in Christine’s voice. The tentacle tightened, not enough to choke him, but the threat was clear. An iron hand held him in his seat. The  alien creature bent over him.

“Sign.” It was not a request.

Dan stared into the gray, fleshy face. His mouth worked, but no sound emerged. Those eyes, like black tar, dragged him down, smothered his will. The music reached its climax and the audience gave meager applause, but the sounds were distorted, as if heard over a distance. Dan jerked feebly at the constricting band, fighting for breath, for sanity. He felt ice cold, and terribly weak.

“Sign,” the creature insisted.

Then a new voice shouted, “Hey! Let go of her, you!”

There was a kind of pop, and suddenly Dan could breathe again. And move.

“Get off me!” he screamed, clinging to his feminine persona even in an emergency. Dan yanked the tentacle away from his skin and thrust his elbow as hard as he could into the  alien creature’s mid-section. It yielded to the blow with unhealthy softness, but he was able to wrench free. Dan snatched up his wand and scrambled away.

His name-twin stood on the opposite side of the table, her left hand outstretched, palm up. Concentrated psais gave her hand a piercing glow. A stern frown was directed at the alien.

“Leave this place. You are not welcome here.” She spoke with a flat drawl, the accent of her native Ishe.

“It is you who are unwelcome,” the creature answered with a guttural snarl.

It came after Dan, tentacles whipping out of its coat sleeves. The few occupants of nearby tables shrieked and scattered. Stumbling a little on high heels, Dan came to Christine’s side. He knew the spell she was using by its feel. He stopped and raised his wand. Psais answered his will, and he joined his rival in the summoning of pure force.

The creature rushed at them, tentacles arcing like whips. Christine shoved at the air with her raised palm and Dan riposted with his wand, timing his thrust with hers. There was a deep report, a brilliant flash. The creature flew backward, striking the wall with a blubbery smack. Its hat fell off, revealing more tentacles in a tight coil. Then it slumped to the floor beside the fire door.

To be continued…

More coming on Saturday. And when this link is active, you’ll be able to buy the whole book!

Meantime, I’m still running a subscription drive. Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Advertisements

My Invisible Dragon, by Kenn Nesbitt

I can’t resist sharing this dragon poem by my good friend, Kenn Nesbitt. It’s from his collection, The Biggest Burp Ever. Kenn is a former Children’s Poet Laureate who has built his life around making kids laugh out loud. Check out his web site, poetry4kids.com. You won’t regret it!

MY INVISIBLE DRAGON

by Kenn Nesbitt

I have an invisible dragon.

She’s such a remarkable flyer.

She soars through the sky on invisible wings

exhaling invisible fire.

Read the rest here…

Subscribe to my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Find out how on my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Advertisements

My Latest News

First news! I’m doing a subscription drive for my newsletter. As an enticement I’ll give a free e-book, The Weight of Their Souls, to all new subscribers. Just go to my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” I’ll be in touch to find out your preferred format.

Second news! Here it is October already, and I was planning to share one of my spookier stories at the end of the month. The Gellboar is a dark fantasy novelette set on an alternate Earth, where only women are permitted the wonderful and terrible power of sorcery. Our Hero has become a female impersonator rather than give up the magic he craves. The title creature is a vampiric alien who finds opportunity in this life of lies.

There are no dragons in the story, but I trust you’ll forgive me for that.

My goal was to do a podcast weekly through October, followed by an e-book. Almost immediately when I made this decision, I came down with a severe cold. Recording a podcast is not a good idea right now. I’m still working on a cover, and doing final edits, but the text will begin running on Wednesdays starting October 11th.

The podcast should begin soon after, though unfortunately it won’t be sequential with the text here on Wyrmflight. I hope to have the E-book out for $.99 around Halloween, cover art permitting.

Subscribe to my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just go to my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks and click the link that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Advertisements

Yinglong’s Family Tree, Part 2

One thing that distinguishes Asian and European dragons, aside from their obvious physical differences, is the underlying concept that Asian dragons have a life cycle. In European lore, dragons tend to be individuals. Think Fafnir and Hydra. Each dragon is unique, it lives in one place (as Hydra does at Lake Lerna) until it encounters a hero who vanquishes it.

By contrast, Asian dragons are a species widely distributed across China, Korea, Tibet, Japan, Thailand, and into the islands of Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. These dragons, collectively known as Lung dragons, are born, grow, and gain power. Human beings will not know of one single dragon, which they can avoid if it is dangerous. Lung dragons can be encountered near any body of water and in some mountain ranges or even large towns.

Lung dragons are hatched out of eggs, laid on the banks of rivers and streams. They may appear as beautiful stones, and will remain for thousands of years before hatching. Possibly there needs to be some sort of spiritual imbalance that “tells” the embryonic Lung it is needed in the world. When they emerge, they have long, fish-like bodies and various appendages depending on who is telling the story. Cat whiskers, eagle talons and tiger legs are among the possibilities. According to some lore, Lung are born without horns and cannot yet fly.

The young Lung will take up residence in the water where it is born. It protects the environment there and people living nearby know it as a helpful and lucky spirit. The larger the body of water, the faster and more powerful the Lung will grow. However, if the water is diverted or drained, the dragon will be forced to move on and all the luck of the community will turn bad.

At about 500 years old, it will transform into a Kioh-Lung. Now more powerful, the Lung dragon gains stag horns and the power of flight. This allows it to extend its protection over a much wider area. Kioh-lung can personally bring rain to areas where it is needed. They gain more powers of transformation and can become as small as a silk worm or large enough to blot out the sun. Kioh-lung can even take human form to move among the populace. It pays to show kindness to strangers, for you never know who is a dragon in disguise!

During this phase, Kioh-lung can assume specific responsibilities, as described in my last post. Chulong, Fucanglong and Shenlong are all examples of the niche a Kioh-lung may fill.

After 1,000 years in all, the Lung again transforms to become a Yinglong. These dragons grow wings in addition to their other features and can move freely among the gods themselves. Like the gods, dragons are immortal unless somehow killed. Asian people believe that these friendly spirits have watched over them through the ages. They hope the dragons will always be there for them.

A few of my other books:

Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, Lucy D. Ford’s short story collection and Masters of Air & Fire, her middle-grade novel.

The Grimhold Wolf, my Gothic werewolf fantasy, and my epic fantasy, The Seven Exalted Orders.

Follow my Facebook page: AuthorDebyFredericks, for all my news and announcements.

Yinglong’s Family Tree

Yinglong was the eldest of all dragons in Chinese lore. His name meant “proper conduct dragon,” showing how he set an example for all of his kind. Unlike any other dragon, Yinglong had wings in addition to his stag horns, snake neck, camel head, demon eyes, cow ears, clam belly, fish scales, eagle claws and tiger legs.

In addition to Yinglong, Chinese legend features a number of dragons with specific roles to play.

Chulong, the Homeless Dragons, inhabit desolate areas such as mountains, marshes, and the bottom of the sea.

Dilong, the Underground Dragons, watch over rivers and streams. In some tellings, these are female dragons who mate with Shenlong.

Feilong are Cloud Dragons, who dwell among the clouds and mist.

Fucanglong, the Dragons of Hidden Treasure, live in the underworld and guard its buried wealth. When a Fucanglong comes out of the ground to report to the heavens, a volcano is formed.

Huanglong, like Yinglong, is an individual and one of the eldest dragons. He bestowed the gift of writing upon Fu-Shi, one of the mythical Five Emperors. Later, when a monster named Kung Kang had torn a hole in the sky, Huanglong filled that gap and his light restored life to the land. Day and night, months and seasons were synchronized with Huanglong’s breathing. Another version of this tale is called The Candle Dragon.

Jiaolong are Hornless Dragons, most likely similar to crocodiles, who are the rulers of all reptiles.

Longwang are the four Dragon Kings, each ruling one of the Northern, Southern, Eastern and Western Seas. These dragons appear in several legends, including The Eight Immortals Cross the Sea and The Rabbit and the Dragon King.

Panlong, the Coiling Dragons, live in ponds and lakes. These dragons have not yet been called to heaven.

Shenlong, the Spiritual Dragons, are rainmakers who watch over humanity. They are associated with storms and thunder.

Tianlong, the Celestial Dragons, serve the gods directly by guarding their heavenly palaces and pulling their chariots.

A few of my other books:

Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, Lucy D. Ford’s short story collection and Masters of Air & Fire, her middle-grade novel.

The Grimhold Wolf, my Gothic werewolf fantasy, and my epic fantasy, The Seven Exalted Orders.

Follow my Facebook page: AuthorDebyFredericks, for all my news and announcements.

 

Advertisements

Yinglong

Yinglong are Chinese dragons associated with technological innovations in flood control. In various legends told over thousands of years, Yinglong most often appears as a sub-type of Chinese dragons, yet in some cases it seems the stories refer to a specific individual dragon.

Written accounts of Yinglong appear as early as 400 B.C.E. These dragons are associated with a group of mythical ancient rulers known as the Three Sovereigns and the Five Emperors (perhaps 2850 – 2070 B.C.E.). Each of these rulers is said to have invented some important technology — for instance, harnessing the power of fire — often with the guidance of dragons.

The most common tale regarding Yinglong is that he came to the aid of humanity during a time of relentless floods. A succession of kings had been trying to solve this problem. It wasn’t until the time of King Yu that progress was made. For whatever reason, Yinglong had sympathy for King Yu. Descending to the Earth, the dragon drew lines in the mud with its tail. Yu recognized that this was a map of China, and the lines from the dragon’s tail indicated where canals could be built.

By implementing Yinglong’s design, King Yu not only diverted dangerous floods from inhabited areas, but allowed better irritation of rice fields. He ultimately divided the land into the nine provinces that formed the backbone of Chinese identity for many centuries. King Yu also is credited with founding the Xia Dynasty, China’s earliest known civilization.

A few of my other books:

Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, Lucy D. Ford’s short story collection and Masters of Air & Fire, her middle-grade novel.

The Grimhold Wolf, my Gothic werewolf fantasy, and my epic fantasy, The Seven Exalted Orders.

Advertisements

Dragon Encounters 21

I’m late posting today because I was at an amazing literary conference held by the Inland Northwest chapter of SCBWI. But I did see this amazing dragon image in the portfolio display. This dragon was one of several illuminated beasts in a series. Thanks so much to the artist, Hannah Charlton, for allowing me to share it here.

[image error]

“Dragon,” by Hannah Charlton, 2017, used with permission.

The gold ink Hannah used is really spectacular and gives her work a special appeal.

 

A few of my other books:

Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, Lucy D. Ford’s short story collection and Masters of Air & Fire, her middle-grade novel.

The Grimhold Wolf, my Gothic werewolf fantasy, and my epic fantasy, The Seven Exalted Orders.

Advertisements

Kur, Part 2

This is the second of two legends related to Kur, a Sumerian dragon god who ruled in the underworld.

In this telling, Kur’s foe is the hero-god Ninurta. Ninurta had his origins as a god of agriculture, specifically barley. As Sumerian life changed, with small farming villages becoming powerful city-states, Ninurta’s role also became more martial. Eventually he was something like Hercules in Greek myth — a hot-tempered god who ran around having adventures while the other gods minded their celestial business.

Ninurta had a marvelous weapon, a mace called Sharur, which could talk and change its shape to that of a winged lion. As the story begins, Ninurta is feeling down because he hasn’t had a good fight lately. Sharur suggests that he take on Kur, who after all is evil and a force for destruction. After extensive flattery by Sharur, Ninurta takes on this challenge.

At in the previous version, Ninurta travels to Kur’s domain and is met with a shower of falling rocks. The battle goes poorly, and he is forced to flee — possibly by flying on Sharur’s back. After Sharur exhorts and encourages him, Ninurta returns to the fray. This time he is attacked with boulders, but he summons all his courage and might. At the end of the battle, Kur lies dead. Sharur extols his master’s great achievement. But…

Kur’s celestial business was to keep the abyssal sea separated from the fertile land. Without him, there is no one to hold back the tides. The sea begins to rise, slowly but surely, until salt water threatens to cover all the land. No fresh water can reach the crops. Soon people are desperately hungry.

When Ninurta learns what is happening, he knows he has to make this right. Returning to the battlefield, he discovers that salt water is ceaselessly flowing from the place where Kur’s body lies. Acting quickly, Ninurta gathers up all the boulders he and Kur hurled at each other during their battle. With these he builds a mighty wall. Ninurta’s stone dam diverts the salt water back into the sea. This allows the Tigris River to run clear. With fresh water restored, the people can once again grow crops. They praise Ninurta as their savior.

A few of my other books:

Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, Lucy D. Ford’s short story collection and Masters of Air & Fire, her middle-grade novel.

The Grimhold Wolf, my Gothic werewolf fantasy, and my epic fantasy, The Seven Exalted Orders.

Kur

In ancient Sumeria (3300 – 2270 BCE), legends told of a savage dragon god who existed at the dawn of creation. Their lore held that the world was composed of three parts: the surface Land, an oceanic Abyss, and between them a space known as Irkala, the Underworld. This was the domain of the gigantic serpent, Kur.

Various deities had paired off during the creation of the world. Anu, god of the stars, captured and married Uras, goddess of the heavens, while Enlil, the storm god, married the earth goddess Ninlil. Not to be left out, Kur abducted the goddess Ereshkigal and made her his queen in Irkala.

This offended the water god, Enki, and he set off to avenge Ereshkigal. Enki descended to Irkala in a boat made of reeds. Kur saw him coming and attacked with a shower of stones while trying to swamp the boat with swirling tidess. Enki fended off the attack. Kur tried again with a rain of boulders and raging waves, but still Enki’s boat survived.

At last Kur himself came in person and the battle was joined! One can only imagine the foam and fury as two water gods made war. Enki prevailed and installed himself as Lord of the Abyss, but Ereshkigal either could not or would not return from captivity. She remained in Irkala as an independent and powerful Queen of the Underworld.

As for Kur, the myths do not state his fate. He may well have survived, for shortly afterward the waters began to rise. Soon all life on Earth was threatened. Check back on Wednesday to learn which deity was next to take on the dreaded Kur!

A few of my other books:

Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, Lucy D. Ford’s short story collection and Masters of Air & Fire, her middle-grade novel.

The Grimhold Wolf, my Gothic werewolf fantasy, and my epic fantasy, The Seven Exalted Orders.

Dragon Encounters 20

So this was in the grocery store yesterday…

[image error]

Soda on a Shelf, September 2017

 

A few of my other books:

Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, Lucy D. Ford’s short story collection and Masters of Air & Fire, her middle-grade novel.

The Grimhold Wolf, my Gothic werewolf fantasy, and my epic fantasy, The Seven Exalted Orders.