Excerpt from All the Paths of Shadow

Today is September the 9th, which means the new book hits the stands in precisely eleven days.  The book, for those of you who have somehow managed to elude my non-stop yammering on the subject, is All the Paths of Shadow, which will be brought to you by the erudite and fascinating people at Cool Well Press.
Can you pre-order?  No, not yet.  
Will the book be available in electronic and print formats?  Yes.
Will reading the book cure male pattern baldness, halt the devaluation of the US dollar, or eliminate the need for costly, strong-smelling creams or ointments?  No, yes, and yes, respectively.
My readers will instantly recognize the name Markhat.  Some have asked if All the Paths of Shadow is a new Markhat novel.  No, it isn't.  Paths is set on a new world and features an all-new cast of characters.  You'll find Paths of Shadow to lie somewhere between Wistril's world and Markhat's.  But I think you'll enjoy it, just the same.
Finally, yes, All the Paths of Shadow is the first in a new series.  The sequel, entitled All the Turns of Light, is now underway. 
I'm putting an excerpt from All the Paths of Shadow below, in the hope of whetting your appetite for the release on the 20th.  And don't worry -- I'll be back well before then with all sorts of helpful links designed to make your purchase of the book as simple and as pleasant as possible, because I'm a helpful kind of guy.
Enjoy the excerpt!
From ALL THE PATHS OF SHADOW:
Beyondthe park and the oaks Tirlin itself rose up in a tidy profusion of red brickbuildings and dark slate roofs and red-gold tree tops just touched by autumn.The towers and spires of the palace peeped through here and there, rising justbarely above the banks and shops and offices that made up the heart of Tirlin.Aboveit all, though, loomed the Tower, squat and black and brooding in the midst ofthe green and open park.Meraldafrowned, and looked away."Mistress,"said Mug, turning all twenty-nine of his eyes toward Meralda. "Talk. What'swrong?""Howmany days remain until the Accords?" said Meralda, quietly."Twenty,"said Mug, with a small stirring of leaf tips. "Counting today, which I supposeI shouldn't, since it's nearly gone."Meraldasat on the edge of her battered kitchen chair. "So," she said. "In nineteendays, Tirlin will be full of Alonyans and Vonats and Eryans andPhendelits, all gathered here to strut and brag and eat like pigs while makinglong speeches explaining why they broke every promise they made at the lastAccord."Mugnodded by dipping his eye buds. "You left out carousing and spying and tavern wrecking,"said Mug. "What does that have to do with you?"Meraldaslapped her hands down on the table. "Nothing," she said. "It should havenothing to do with me at all. The Accords are a political matter.""Orso you thought."Meraldashook her head. "So I thought." She put her elbows on the table and her chin inher hands. Just for an instant, she heard her mother's scolding voice. "Elbowsoff the table, young lady. We raise swine. We do not emulate their tablemanners."Meraldasighed and stared at the table top. "His Highness is to give the customarycommencement speech on the eve of the Accords," she said. "He plans to speakfrom a platform at the foot of the Tower. Carpenters are building coveredstands in the park for the delegates."Mugshrugged with a tossing of fronds. "Sounds fine. I think Kings Ortell andListbin did the same thing, way back when." Mug lifted his three red eyestoward Meralda's face. "It's not the weather, is it? Surely even Yvin knowsbetter than to take pokes at the climate just to make sure he has a sunny dayfor a speech.""Hedidn't ask that," said Meralda. "Yet."Shestretched and yawned and thought again about caramel apples and fall carnivals."Yesterday—" said Meralda, "Yesterday, the King was inspecting the stands beingbuilt in the park. He arrived at five of the clock, the same time hiscommencement speech is set for.""And?"said Mug."And,"said Meralda, "It suddenly dawned on our gifted monarch that the sun sets inthe west and casts shadows toward the east.""LeavingHis High Pompousness to make a speech in the shadow of the Tower," said Mug,with dawning apprehension. "Which aggravated his royal sense of badly donemelodrama.""Andled him to instruct me to move the Tower's shadow," said Meralda. "Move it, orbanish it, or fold it up and pack it away for an hour," said Meralda, in amocking baritone. "Roll up a shadow? Pack away the absence of light caused by aseven hundred year old wizard's keep?" Meralda shoved back the chair and stood,hands spread before her. "What kind of an imbecile asks for a roll of packed upshadows?"Mugcast his gaze toward the ceiling. "The kind with the scepter and the crown," hesaid, quietly.Meraldastood. She walked back to her open window and leaned on the sill."Wasit a suggestion, a request, or a royal directive?" asked Mug."Isthere a difference?" asked Meralda. "The king asked. Before the full court. Istood there and nodded and made vague assurances that I'd look into the matter."Meralda sighed. "The Tower is—what? Nine hundred feet high? Almost two hundredwide? At five of the clock today, the tip of its afternoon shadow hit the parkwall at the east entrance. That makes its shadow almost two thousand feet longand two hundred wide at the base."Mugticked off figures on his leaf tips. "How big a bag will you need, after youroll it up?" he asked."Mug!"snapped Meralda. "Enough.""Athousand pardons, Oh Fiery-Eyed One," said Mug, with a mock bow. "But could itbe, mistress, that you are not exclusively angry with King Yvin?" A trio ofbright blue eyes peeked up through Mug's tangle of leaves. "Could it be thatyou are peeved at your own reluctance to describe to the king in lengthy detailjust how asinine and vacuous his shadow-packing scheme truly is?"Meraldaglared. "I could get a cat," she said. "A nice quiet cat."Muglifted out of the bow. "Fur on the couch, a litter box to empty? I don't seeyou with a cat," said Mug."Keeptalking," she said. "We may all see things we didn't expect." Meralda shook herhead, ran her fingers through the strands of long red-brown hair that hadworked loose from the tight bun at the back of her head."Iwas going to add that you shouldn't fault yourself for not browbeating the kingbefore the full court," said Mug. "I was going to say that even though yourhero Tim the Horsehead spent his career berating and insulting kings he wasalways careful to do so in private." Mug paused, waving his leaves. "I wasgoing to suggest that you take a long hot bath and curl up on the couch with acup of Vellish black tea and a book of Phendelit poetry, and that you see Yvinprivately tomorrow and explain to him that you only just discovered that movingthe Tower's shadow would loose a plague of biting flies on Banker Street anddevalue Tirlish currency abroad and cause the collapse of the aqueducts and,incidentally, make snakes grow in his beard. He'll forget the whole shadow businessand you can go back to your studies of spark wheels and lightning rods,interrupted only by occasional royal requests to shrink the royal bald spot."Meraldalaughed. Mug turned his eyes away. "And you want a cat," he said, airily. "Coulda cat say that?""Noone with lungs could say that, Mug," she said. "You're right. I should have atalk with Yvin.""Thenwhy aren't you making tea and drawing a bath?" said Mug.Meraldasighed. "Because I'm changing clothes and going back to the laboratory," shesaid. "There are things I need to look into, at least."Mugsighed. "Mistress," he said. "Can it be done? Can the shadow be moved?""Idon't know, Mug," she said. "Perhaps."Mugturned a tangle of green eyes toward her. "I don't like this, mistress," hesaid, no humor in his tone. "The Tower isn't something to be trifled with." Mugbunched all his eyes together in an instinctive signal of grave concern. "Leaveit alone, if you can," he said. "Please."Meraldafrowned. "Why, Mug?" she said. "It's just an old tower."Mugmoved his eyes closer. "It was never just a tower," he said. "Not seven hundredyears ago, not yesterday, not now." Mug's leaves stirred, though no wind blew. "Whydo you think the old kings tried for all those years to knock it down?" Mugpaused and stilled his leaves. "Leave it alone, mistress. Tell Yvin to light afew gas lamps and leave the Tower be."Meraldastroked Mug's topmost leaves. "Thank you, Mug," she said."Forwhat?" said Mug.Meraldasmiled. "For not being a cat," she said.Mug'seyes exchanged glances. "You're welcome," he said. "I think.""Water?"asked Meralda."None,thanks," said Mug. The dandyleaf plant sighed. "So you're going to try this,despite my heartfelt plea.""Ihave to," said Meralda. "I have to try. Not for the king, but for me."Muggrunted. "As long as it's not a heroic effort for the glory of His Thick-headedness,"said Mug. "So what's this idea of yours?"Meraldabit her lip. She turned from Mug and began to pace slowly around the diningtable."Isee two ways to do this," she said, frowning. "First, bend the sunlight aroundthe Tower, so it casts no shadow at all."Mugfrowned. "That would render the Tower invisible, wouldn't it?" he said. "And aworking invisibility spell? Weren't you saying just a few days ago that such athing was impossible? I believe you used the words 'penny-novel nonsense'.""Thespell would only redirect light striking the Tower from a certain angle," saidMeralda. "It wouldn't be invisible. Just a bit fuzzy, from a single spot out inthe park.""Isee," said Mug. "What's your other idea?""Leavethe shadow," she said. "Just delay it a bit. An hour, perhaps. Maybe less.""Delayit? How, mistress, does one delay the setting of the sun?"Meraldalaughed. "I'll leave the sun alone, thank you," she said. "I'd merely borrow abit of sunlight from one day and move it to the next."Theedges of Mug's leaves all curled slightly upward. "Let's work with youroriginal notion," he said. "Moving sunlight from one day to the next. Thatsounds like the sort of story that ends with the Thaumaturge being brutallysuntanned and the king giving his speech from beneath the cover of perpetualnight."Meraldasmiled. "Good night, Mug," she said. "I'll be late. Shall I move you to thesitting room window?""No,thank you," he said. "I'll stay right where I am. It's a good place in which toworry oneself sick. Lots of room to drop leaves and shrivel."Meraldasighed. "It's only a shadow, Mug," she said. "And the Tower is just a tower.Stones and wood. Nothing more."Mugsniffed. "Certainly," he said. "Nothing to all those old stories. Nothing atall."Meraldasnatched up her cloak and stamped out of the kitchen. Mug listened to her washher face, brush her teeth, and change her clothes. Then the living room doorclosed softly, and Mug was all alone.