~Known for their great brick oven pizzas
Ultramega Ok! Recording
Russel Cox - E.V.O. - Evolutionary Means
zircon - Super Mario World - Monstrous Turtles!
Arkimedes - Shenmue - Dreaming While I Wake
Harmony - Secret of Mana - Nighttime Evolution
Gibs, Mordi - Donkey Kong Country - A Hint of Blue
Did some editing again, shouldn't be too noticable hopefully. I love Dreaming While I Wake so muuuuchhh
Anyway the computer seems to be behaving itself now although I didn't actually solve the problem (scans still pick up things they can't remove), so idk. WHATEVER. There are still a few other things I can try, but at least it seems to be fairly stable for now. That's something?
While waiting for scans to finish over the past couple days I went and read a whole bunch of books lying around. In the process, I finally finished If I Pay Thee Not in Gold! DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE THRILLING CONCLUSION TO THE TALE? You might want to refresh yourself on my previous entries about the book before we go into the PULSEPOUNDING CONCLUSION!!!
Spoilers: the end of this book DID shock me, but probably not in the way that the authors intended. YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO SEE.
Last we checked in, Xylina was trying to deal with newcomer Thesius who is JUST LIKE HER BUT NOT A SLAVE SO HE IS HER EQUAL OMG!!! They talk and it turns out Thesius is a rich prince, why not.
She thought that she surprised him a time or two, as he in his turn questioned her. For one thing, he was startled to learn that her origins, at least, were in a family almost as privileged as his own. For another, he was amazed to find out how well educated she was. She got the impression that he had thought she was little better than a peasant, and that Ware had chosen her mainly because she was so physically beautiful and intelligent, though unlettered.
YOU MIGHT THINK WARE JUST LOVES ME BECAUSE I'M SMART AND BEAUTIFUL, BUT IT'S ALSO BECAUSE I'M RICH!
He expressed sympathy, which seemed to be quite genuine, when she revealed that her mother was dead. She expressed envy, which was genuine, when he told her about his parents, and that the family was very much like the ideal of Mazonite families, save only that authority and responsibility were shared between father and mother.
We could tell you what that ideal is, but that's boring so just figure it out yourselves.
By the second day, she began to see some of what Ware saw in the man; by the third, she had acknowledged that their similarities went more than skin-deep. They were not only similar in looks and intelligence, they were similar in status and attitude. By the time she went to sleep on the night of the third day, she and Thesius were friends.
Writing characters out of a contentious relationship too hard? Developing relationships too tedious? The power of exposition can help!
She could certainly see why Thesius had been so eager to leave his home. The passions that drove his family, for increased trade and increased territory, were things she had seen in successful Mazonites and had never understood. And the customs! The Mazonites had at least one positive thing going for them, even Thesius agreed: they tried to keep pomp and senseless, ancient customs to a minimum. But Thesius' people made a fetish of ceremony.
He had confessed to a feeling of profound relief when he rode out of the tiny kingdom of Copera, and she could not blame him. Every moment of his time had been hedged about with some custom or other-most of which had no real meaning any more.
I want to name this fantasy kingdom, but I also want it to make people think of coprophages and coprolalia and basically poop. How can I do that? Wait, I know!
When he woke, he must immediately rise and go to the window to recite a child's rhyme to the rising sun. Then he would be given a "breakfast" consisting of a single slice of bread, a spoonful of jam, and a sprig of herb. He must fold the bread in half, crosswise, and eat it from one of the two longer points, then take the herb sprig and leave it precisely in the middle of the plate. Then recite yet another verse.
For every action of the day, there was a verse. For putting on clothing, for taking it off. For eating and for drinking. For greeting and departing. For seeing sunny weather or clouds. Food must be eaten in a certain order, clothing donned in a certain order, the body bathed in a certain order. Floors must always be swept from right to left. And so on, until the verses of retirement and sleep.
The customs of the court were even worse.
"I could never live there," she declared. He nodded in complete agreement.
"We are more slaves to our customs than you women have ever made your men," he replied, and she had to agree with him.
Yeah those two things are totally equivalent.
She had changed; she knew that now. Men had never been faceless automata to her, but now she could see them as human and as equal as she herself was. She would never be able to go back to thinking of them as something less.
But then, something unexpected happened. From understanding why Thesius was desirable to Wara, she progressed until she became attracted to him.
Gasp. Why is she attracted to him? QUIET SHE JUST IS NOW
A week and a day. The attraction was stronger than ever. She found herself watching him covertly, thinking about that dancer's body. Wondering if he was as skilled in using that body as Ware was. She caught herself getting careless when it was her turn to wash, taking longer than she should, so that he might return on schedule and catch an accidental glimpse of her torso. Would she impress him as much as Wara had? She condemned herself, for she had never been a tease, but in the boredom her fancy ran rampant.
She found herself facing another question: what if Ware and Faro had been captured or killed? What if she and Thesius were on their own?
As the days stretched on, coming nearer to two weeks than one, she finally voiced that fear.
And Thesius was forced to admit that he, too, had been thinking of just that, and suffering shameful feelings. And she caught him watching her, covertly, with speculation in his eyes.
OH NO WHAT WILL HAPPEN THESE TWO CHARACTERS ARE SO WELL DEVELOPED AND WE SPENT SO MUCH TIME GETTING TO KNOW THEM AND SEEING THEIR RELATIONSHIP CHANGE AND GROW, I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN
What had been a long, anxiety filled day became worse. Just about sunset, the weather turned. A high, cold wind came up, bringing with it clouds and rain. By the time the last light had left the sky, the rain had turned to sleet-and their clothing and few blankets were totally inadequate.
They layered on item after item, and still the cold penetrated to make them shiver. The wind kept stealing the heat from the fire, blowing straight into the cave and carrying the heat away through the vent that had been taking the smoke. They sat across from one another, shivering miserably, as the bitter cold penetrated into their bones.
When people review your fanfic and go "One cabin one blanket is so cliche and old! Think of some new way to make characters huddle for warmth!", now you can go BUT PROFESSIONAL AUTHORS DO IT TOO SO THERE
I guess you gotta pick up a trope from somewhere
"Maybe-just one kiss," she whispered. "That couldn't do any harm," he agreed huskily. Their faces slowly came together. They were so similar, in their backgrounds and their passion.
And they were both human. Ware would not even be able to protest, for Ware would be no more....
It was that which brought her to her senses, and she saw that he must have remembered the same thing at the same moment. Their lips, almost touching, halted. She shook her head, gently, and he nodded. They both knew that if the kiss did not destroy the demon, what would surely follow it would.
They remained chastely cradled in each others arms for the rest of the night, sharing no more than physical warmth. Finally, after a long, long, time, the wind died, and they slept.
YOU CAN NEVER CHEAT ON ME EVER OTHERWISE I WILL DIE AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT
In the morning neither of them spoke about their near-catastrophe, but it was on Xylina's mind and she knew it must be on Thesius's. The air was still brisk and chill, but Xylina generated her warmth with exercise. That exercise also took some of the edge off her desire, although it did not remove it. Only the knowledge of how nearly they had murdered Ware did that.
Nothing like a cup of nearly-murdered-your-boyfriend to wake you up in the mornings.
She could not continue, but he seemed to understand everything she could not say.
"But you were true to me, both of you," he whispered comfortingly in her ear, "because otherwise I would not be here."
She could not tell him that this was exactly what she meant, but when she finally pulled away a little and looked into his eyes, she saw that he already knew.
He had known the risk he was taking, and he had trusted them both: trusted their honor, and their strength of spirit. Trusted them more than they had trusted themselves.
HAHA I PLANNED IT ALL ALONG TO SEE IF YOU'D BE FAITHFUL TO ME HAHA DANCE PUPPETS this doesn't seem healthy at all
That night, the three of them shared a sleeping-place, with Ware between the two humans. And oddly, now that the temptation had been weathered, Xylina found that she no longer desired Thesius-and when he glanced at her, she no longer saw that mirroring desire in his face. He felt, instead, like the brother he resembled, and for the first time in her life, she felt complete-for now she had everything, a friend in Faro, a brother in Thesius, and a beloved in the form of Ware.
Well we nearly had some conflict there, better write that out of the story immediately.
For the first time, she made love to Ware with Thesius lying naked beside them. When she finished, she lay without jealousy as Wara made love to Thesius. She had accepted the new reality, though it was alien to anything she could have believed before this excursion. She didn't even feel guilty. This was love of a different kind, but nevertheless love, all the greater for the understanding it required.
UGH GROSS THEY'RE RIGHT THERE, AT LEAST GO TO SOME OTHER PART OF THE CAVE OR SOMETHING
Anyway they go to the cave system that has the magic crystal or whatever and make a plan to sneak in.
Faro returned just as the sun crept above the horizon, a bundle of fabric under his arm. He passed it silently to Ware, who quickly donned it. It was one of the crystal-guards' uniforms; Xylina did not ask Faro how he had obtained one, and from whom. She was just grateful that there was no blood on it.
Faro's blowjobs can blow a man's clothes clean off.
So they distract all the guards and Xylina goes around some back entrance and sneaks through a crack in the wall. She makes it into a room above the guard room that has a weird slanted hole in the bottom for some reason. Accordingly, she conjures up a ton of water and floods the guard's room below, and they run off and she slides on down.
She slid, as if the sides had been greased. This was as exciting as the trip through the outer passage had been harrowing. The smooth walls of the water-tunnel slid by her; as Ware had instructed, she put out her feet now and again to brake her speed, but for the most part, she simply thrilled in the feeling of near-flight. As a small child she had slid down mud-slick banks on the family estate; this was to that feeling as her first primitive conjurations were to what she could do now!
Just like the Goonies!
So she goes into the crystal chamber and finds the shard, which is set up in a bunch of traps. What to do?
There was another way. For as she stared at the shard, she felt its magic ambience. It reached out to her, touching her mind, making it more clever, and it touched her heart, making her desire it with a passion as strong as she had ever desired a man. It touched her power, and suddenly she knew what she could do. And the crystal itself would help her.
Lightly she touched one finger to the shard, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Creating-vapor. Water vapor. Forcing water into every tiny crack and crevice of the holder until it was completely saturated. And then, with a twist of thought unlike any she had done before-
She turned it to ice.
Water, she had learned in her lessons from Marcus, expanded when it was frozen. Everything else contracted. In a moment, she had chilled the area down to where her breath made clouds in the air; the ice itself was as hard as steel.
In the past she had been able to conjure many substances, but they were normally of ambient temperature. Metal would not be hot or cold, water would seem cool but be the temperature of the surrounding air. One exception was ice: that was by its nature cold, so conjured that way. Otherwise it would have appeared as a puddle of water. But to actually, magically, change the temperature of an existing object or substance-that was a power hitherto reserved to the demons. Now, by virtue of the shard, it was hers. So she could heat water-or freeze it. She could do what no other Mazonite could, and what therefore the defenders of the shard had not anticipated. It had outsmarted them.
What a sudden turn of events!! This is such a stunning step forward in her zzzzzzzzzz
So she snags the crystal and splits. Now for a harrowing journey back the way they came! Or maybe a brave rescue mission for the extras that got caught last time!
"Xylina, why are you stopping?" Faro asked, as Xylina reined in her horse at the edge of the Pacha realm. Their trek across it had been a near mirror of their original trip, although with fewer people, and instead of the Pacha visiting their camps, they had traded conjured wine and feasts for Pacha hospitality. The Pacha had been thrilled with the bargain, and nearly every chieftain that had hosted them had begged them to stay.
Or we can just skip all of that.
Xylina decides not to give the crystal back to Adria, and they decide to chill out with the Pacha instead. She'll just keep the crystal! Eventually it'll drag her to the main crystal but whatevs deal with it when the time comes.
Adria is not pleased and calls up Xantippe (haha) to get some armies together to go and get the crystal. Surely this'll be an exciting battle filled with adventure and bravery and
Less than a day later, two armies marched out of the capital. The first, smaller and faster than the second, and composed entirely of veterans, was commanded by Xantippe, and was intended to cut Xylina's path of escape across Pacha lands. The second, composed mostly of newly-recruited slaves, was commanded by Queen Adria herself. This was the army that Xylina was intended to see.
The other, she was not meant to see until it was too late.
"I'm sorry, Xylina; I should have guessed she would do something like that-" Thesius was babbling; this was the fifth or sixth time that he had repeated his apology, but the second of Adria's forces had come as a terrible surprise to all of them. Xylina could not blame him for babbling. The jaws of the trap had closed on them, before they even realized that it was a trap.
Or we'll skip that too, I guess. Anyway they get overrun (since Xylina's so tired from practicing her new temperature powers) and omg the queen lets all her slaves die so evil, and then finally Xylina challenges the Queen to single combat OH NO FINALLY AFTER ALL THIS TIME
"How can I?" she wailed, despairing. "This is not Mazonia! She is not bound by the rules with a traitor and an oath-breaker! She need not-"
"But you have something she wants, little mistress," Faro pointed out, shrewdly and unexpectedly. "You have the shard. Send to her by the Pacha, and tell her that you will destroy it unless-"
"Unless she agrees to meet me! Of course!" Xylina's despair turned again to hope, and she jumped out of her simple wooden chair to hug Faro around the neck. He blushed, but grinned. Thesius had already run out of the room to fetch one of their Pacha "allies," who were willing to act as messengers and sometimes scouts so long as such duty did not directly involve them in combat.
As usual Faro tells Xylina what to do because durrrr. WHY AREN'T THE PACHA SACRIFICING THEMSELVES FOR OUR OWN PETTY WARS, WHAT KIND OF "ALLIES" ARE THEY
Anyway Xylina's already falling in love with the shard BUT WILL HER HEART REMAIN PURE??/ Adria is all for the challenge. Let's do this!
The burning sun beat down upon the two women: two combatants, who were the very antithesis of each other. Xylina, small, slender, long-waisted and high breasted, with her blond hair streaming down to her waist-and Adria, lean, whip-cord-tough, no more figure than a boy, and with her dark hair cut aggressively short. And yet Adria, who was by far the more experienced and tougher-looking, already showed some slight discomfort-perhaps from the exposure to the sun. Xylina, clothed only in her signature banner of hair, seemed completely serene and at ease-perhaps because she had been the plaything of the elements for some time now, and had gotten used to them.
Boyish dark-haired women are evil. They toss the crystal under two unbreakable domes they both conjured up, so no one can just grab it and run.
Xylina hoped that her own first move would take the Queen off-guard. The banner dropped.
An enormous block of stone appeared just above where Xylina was standing, and crashed down into the ground, smashing everything beneath it to powder. But Xylina was no longer there.
She had created a tiny springboard just in front of herself, and had used it to catapult herself through the air, landing well out of range of the stone, and-most importantly-right next to the domes protecting the shard. Now she could use the domes as a kind of shield, and unless Adria wanted to risk smashing the crystal, she could not use any more weapons like that block of stone.
What is this, Sonic the Hedgehog all of a sudden? Xylina conjures up an equal block above the queen, but she sets up some columns to hold it up, so stalemate! It turns out that since Xylina is so YOUNG AND TALENTED the Queen's getting fatigued already and all Xylina needs to do is outlast her and she'll be fine!
The Queen conjured a spiked metal ball that she hurled at Xylina. Xylina, wary of what else might be coming, stepped aside while conjuring her own matching spiked ball. Sure enough, the Queen's second ball came at her, and she was unable to dodge it. So she conjured her own second ball in the path of the Queen's. The two collided in air and dropped to the ground as Xylina threw hers at the Queen. The Queen stepped behind a post, and the ball missed. But Adria looked wary; she saw how readily Xylina was matching her, and she didn't want to try something that would hurt her when the response came. Xylina was, in effect, teaching her manners.
This IS like Sonic! Xylina figures that all she has to do is make Adria really angry so she'll waste her power and then she can win. So she dumps a whole bunch of poop on her.
Adria's next attack showed just how far she had fallen from that self-control; she began manifesting and throwing metal lances, one after the other. If the domes had not been in the way these could have been deadly, but now mostly clattered harmlessly off the adamant. This was basic, unsophisticated conjuration, worthy of a girl's first arena demonstration-as had been the case with Xylina. It was almost beneath the notice of an experienced Mazonite.
Xylina's reply was a deluge of water that washed away the manure, and left Adria’s legs dripping wet. She looked almost as ridiculous as before. The men roared again with helpless laughter, which was redoubled when Xylina dropped an enormous sponge and recognizable bar of soap in front of her. Mazonia had never seen combat like this!
Ha ha, hilarious! Such wit! Adria tries to stab her from below with some rock lances, so Xylina conjures a shield below her feet and turns the water around Adria to ice, which startles her a bit. Then she tries ice shards, gasp! Adria summons up some cotton around her to protect herself.
It better light soon, though, because the Queen was getting ready to return to the attack. An ominous fog was forming over Xylina. She focused with all her might-and saw a tiny wisp of smoke just behind Adria.
Then there was a puff of flame. She had done it! The batting was burning!
The Queen turned, smelling the smoke. "What-?"
Xylina wasted no time. She knew that the Queen would banish her cotton in a moment, leaving nothing to bum. She had to pounce while she had the flame. So she conjured more fluid.
This time, what Xylina doused the Queen with was not water. It was naptha. And she followed it with oil.
The Queen, and everything around her, exploded into flames. They leaped up throughout the area as the oil flowed. It was impossible for Adria to run out of the fire fast enough-not with her oil-soaked legs already burning. There was so much oil that it fueled a fire that reached far into the sky, an inferno. Much more than the Queen must have thought Xylina was capable of conjuring at this stage. So she had been caught by surprise, thinking her opponent no stronger than herself.
Xylina slid down off the domes to cower behind the adamant as the fireball blasted everything in the vicinity. The Queen's scream of agony echoed in her ears, and went on for a long and terrible time; she covered both her ears with her hands, and still it echoed in her very soul, until she feared that the echo of it would never leave her, and she would hear it in her dreams for the rest of her life.
Finally she could not bear it any longer. She conjured one last time; another block of stone identical to Adria's first attack, a stone which she dropped on the burning Queen, extinguishing blaze, scream, and the last pitiful remnants of Adria's life.
Hardcore. Xylina wins and everyone oohs and aahs about how she conjured up three times as much as the queen XYLINA IS SO TALENTED AND AMAZING
Xylina then decides whatevs and sends the armies home all I WILL NOT BE YOUR QUEEEN so who knows who'll be Queen instead, who cares, let's hang out with the Pacha
The little rock-walled room was very crowded with five people in it. "My Queen-" Xantippe said, awkwardly. Xylina interrupted her with a shake of her head. She was bone-weary, and wearing the plainest tunic and trousers she owned, simply to try to show Xantippe by her very clothing that she had no intention of taking power.
"I told you, I am not your Queen. I am not anybody's Queen. Do I have to go all over this again?" She sipped cold water to ease a throat raw from weeping. And she was not certain for whom she had wept more-the Queen, the hundreds of slaves slaughtered in this stupid battle, or herself. "Or do you finally understand?"
Truly, Xylina is the real victim here.
"I do not understand, but I know what you want," Xantippe replied, dubiously. "You want someone else to be Queen; you do not care whom, so long as the new Queen leaves you in peace. You even suggested me! You do not want power. You will sign a treaty with the new Queen that pledges you will remain in Pacha lands and attempt to keep this stone you wear from dragging you off to the main crystal-and in return, you wish some trade with the demons, all of Ware's property and gold to be accessible to him so that he may build you and Thesius an estate here, and sanctuary for any slaves that escape and make it this far. I do not understand this, but I think that we can pledge it."
Thanks for the exposition Xantippe, you can go now.
"Good." Xylina sighed, and leaned back in her seat, which was now of fine leather and strong velvet. The only spoils of war she had accepted were the Queen's traveling properties-a luxurious tent and all appointments-and those slaves who wished to remain in Pacha lands and join one of the tribes. She could not grant that wish of her ten dead men-but she could grant it to others.
Or the SLAVES YOU JUST LET GET CAPTURED BY LIZARDMEN AND LEFT FOR DEAD
"Xantippe, I wish only to preserve my land and its way of life for as long as I am able. The shard is dangerous. I will not be able to do this forever. Ware tells me that eventually this shard will cause me to turn against you, and on that day, when I cross the border of Mazonia, you must consider me an enemy. But that will be long after you are dead, and probably long after every other Mazonite in this army is dead. For now-just leave us in peace. We will not trouble you, and we will not permit the freed slaves to trouble you."
Sequel hook!
"Was it worth it, beloved?" the incubus asked, his face mirroring a concern he had not shown the two men. "I know how everything since the challenge has troubled your soul. It was I who urged you to all of this in the first place. If I had not done this, entrapped you, gotten you involved-"
"I would have ended my life a bitter and hateful woman, just like Adria," Xylina interrupted, taking his hand and kissing it. "If not long since ignominiously dead. And with your help-we have given my people some warning, and perhaps some time to adjust to what will inevitably come. Perhaps this time when the change comes, it may come without terrible cost, death and chaos. And no matter what happens-"
She took his hand in hers, and looked deeply into his eyes, smiling for the first time in many days. "We will meet it together."
The end! Barrrf.
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! DUAL AUTHOR'S NOTES! Anthony's is way longer than Lackey's, but that's not a huge surprise. Mostly it's just blah blah I was born here or blah blah I like writing
BUT THEN IN ANTHONY'S PART THINGS GET INTERESTING
This particular one was like an arranged marriage. Collaboration, it has been said, has the problems of wedlock, without the benefits. That's why most writers avoid it. But sometimes the vagaries of situation can force such a merger. In effect I went to Jim Baen of Baen Books and said, "Here's my notion, but I don't have time to do it myself; can you find me someone to write it?" He checked his prospects and found Mercedes (Misty) Lackey. "But I'm too busy too!" she surely protested. But he had an answer: "You're the best possible writer for a notion such as this. I wouldn't give it to just anyone." So she reconsidered, and concluded that she would have to make time. Thus it came to be. No, I never met Misty; remember what I said above about no benefits? My daughter Penny did, however, at a convention, so there was a tenuous connection. Daughters are marvelous creatures. I can't think why anyone would want to have sons. So Misty wrote it, and then I went over her text. This was no rubber stamp effort; anything with my name on it must meet my standards. I did a complete job of copy-editing and spot revisions and additions, exactly as I do for my own drafts, polishing the novel to my satisfaction and expanding it by ten thousand words. Those who are conversant with Misty's writing and mine will see aspects of both here, just as both of our ideas are represented. Thus I did the top and bottom of it, the summary and the revision. Picture a sandwich: I'm the two slices of bread. Most of the nourishment is in the center, but without the bread it wouldn't exist.
Consider this in light of that other quote he had about this, where he said Lackey dumped a manuscript on him so terrible that he refused to ever work with her again, thus dooming the series to one book. BUT WE CAN'T HAVE ANY OF THAT IN HERE.
I MENTIONED THE SHOCKING THING UP THERE
WHAT IS IT, YOU ASK?
HERE IT IS
Naturally, as I reviewed it, fate stepped in. My belief in the supernatural is nonexistent; I write fantasy, I don't believe it. This may be why supernatural occurrences keep pestering me. In this case, just as I was reviewing the scene in which Xylina contemplates suicide, I received a letter from a young woman who was doing the same. Her name was Julie, and she had a cross that she wore continuously, day and night, her most precious possession. She enclosed that cross, and it sits by my computer as I type this. By that token I knew that she was near the end. Yes, I'm doing my best to persuade her to take back her cross, but the issue is undecided at the time of this writing. I researched to ascertain what type it is, and concluded that it is of the general description known as pattée: that is, widening in the arms, in the manner of paws. Pattée means paw-like. And so I added a character in honor of that cross-a character who did not die. I hope. Further research satisfied me that the cross is actually of another description, clechée, meaning like an ancient key, but I decided to let Pattée the character be. There are limits.
A WOMAN WROTE INTO PIERS ANTHONY SAYING SHE WAS CONSIDERING SUICIDE
SO ANTHONY WROTE HER INTO THE BOOK AS A PROSTITUTE RAPE SLAVE WITH PAWS FOR HANDS WHO EVENTUALLY GOT KIDNAPPED AND SOLD INTO SLAVERY AGAIN AND MAY OR MAY NOT BE DEAD
WHAT THE #$^#
I also posted this at dreamwidth with reluctant ambivalence. Comment here or there, don't matter to me!
Russel Cox - E.V.O. - Evolutionary Means
zircon - Super Mario World - Monstrous Turtles!
Arkimedes - Shenmue - Dreaming While I Wake
Harmony - Secret of Mana - Nighttime Evolution
Gibs, Mordi - Donkey Kong Country - A Hint of Blue
Did some editing again, shouldn't be too noticable hopefully. I love Dreaming While I Wake so muuuuchhh
Anyway the computer seems to be behaving itself now although I didn't actually solve the problem (scans still pick up things they can't remove), so idk. WHATEVER. There are still a few other things I can try, but at least it seems to be fairly stable for now. That's something?
While waiting for scans to finish over the past couple days I went and read a whole bunch of books lying around. In the process, I finally finished If I Pay Thee Not in Gold! DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE THRILLING CONCLUSION TO THE TALE? You might want to refresh yourself on my previous entries about the book before we go into the PULSEPOUNDING CONCLUSION!!!
Spoilers: the end of this book DID shock me, but probably not in the way that the authors intended. YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO SEE.
Last we checked in, Xylina was trying to deal with newcomer Thesius who is JUST LIKE HER BUT NOT A SLAVE SO HE IS HER EQUAL OMG!!! They talk and it turns out Thesius is a rich prince, why not.
She thought that she surprised him a time or two, as he in his turn questioned her. For one thing, he was startled to learn that her origins, at least, were in a family almost as privileged as his own. For another, he was amazed to find out how well educated she was. She got the impression that he had thought she was little better than a peasant, and that Ware had chosen her mainly because she was so physically beautiful and intelligent, though unlettered.
YOU MIGHT THINK WARE JUST LOVES ME BECAUSE I'M SMART AND BEAUTIFUL, BUT IT'S ALSO BECAUSE I'M RICH!
He expressed sympathy, which seemed to be quite genuine, when she revealed that her mother was dead. She expressed envy, which was genuine, when he told her about his parents, and that the family was very much like the ideal of Mazonite families, save only that authority and responsibility were shared between father and mother.
We could tell you what that ideal is, but that's boring so just figure it out yourselves.
By the second day, she began to see some of what Ware saw in the man; by the third, she had acknowledged that their similarities went more than skin-deep. They were not only similar in looks and intelligence, they were similar in status and attitude. By the time she went to sleep on the night of the third day, she and Thesius were friends.
Writing characters out of a contentious relationship too hard? Developing relationships too tedious? The power of exposition can help!
She could certainly see why Thesius had been so eager to leave his home. The passions that drove his family, for increased trade and increased territory, were things she had seen in successful Mazonites and had never understood. And the customs! The Mazonites had at least one positive thing going for them, even Thesius agreed: they tried to keep pomp and senseless, ancient customs to a minimum. But Thesius' people made a fetish of ceremony.
He had confessed to a feeling of profound relief when he rode out of the tiny kingdom of Copera, and she could not blame him. Every moment of his time had been hedged about with some custom or other-most of which had no real meaning any more.
I want to name this fantasy kingdom, but I also want it to make people think of coprophages and coprolalia and basically poop. How can I do that? Wait, I know!
When he woke, he must immediately rise and go to the window to recite a child's rhyme to the rising sun. Then he would be given a "breakfast" consisting of a single slice of bread, a spoonful of jam, and a sprig of herb. He must fold the bread in half, crosswise, and eat it from one of the two longer points, then take the herb sprig and leave it precisely in the middle of the plate. Then recite yet another verse.
For every action of the day, there was a verse. For putting on clothing, for taking it off. For eating and for drinking. For greeting and departing. For seeing sunny weather or clouds. Food must be eaten in a certain order, clothing donned in a certain order, the body bathed in a certain order. Floors must always be swept from right to left. And so on, until the verses of retirement and sleep.
The customs of the court were even worse.
"I could never live there," she declared. He nodded in complete agreement.
"We are more slaves to our customs than you women have ever made your men," he replied, and she had to agree with him.
Yeah those two things are totally equivalent.
She had changed; she knew that now. Men had never been faceless automata to her, but now she could see them as human and as equal as she herself was. She would never be able to go back to thinking of them as something less.
But then, something unexpected happened. From understanding why Thesius was desirable to Wara, she progressed until she became attracted to him.
Gasp. Why is she attracted to him? QUIET SHE JUST IS NOW
A week and a day. The attraction was stronger than ever. She found herself watching him covertly, thinking about that dancer's body. Wondering if he was as skilled in using that body as Ware was. She caught herself getting careless when it was her turn to wash, taking longer than she should, so that he might return on schedule and catch an accidental glimpse of her torso. Would she impress him as much as Wara had? She condemned herself, for she had never been a tease, but in the boredom her fancy ran rampant.
She found herself facing another question: what if Ware and Faro had been captured or killed? What if she and Thesius were on their own?
As the days stretched on, coming nearer to two weeks than one, she finally voiced that fear.
And Thesius was forced to admit that he, too, had been thinking of just that, and suffering shameful feelings. And she caught him watching her, covertly, with speculation in his eyes.
OH NO WHAT WILL HAPPEN THESE TWO CHARACTERS ARE SO WELL DEVELOPED AND WE SPENT SO MUCH TIME GETTING TO KNOW THEM AND SEEING THEIR RELATIONSHIP CHANGE AND GROW, I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN
What had been a long, anxiety filled day became worse. Just about sunset, the weather turned. A high, cold wind came up, bringing with it clouds and rain. By the time the last light had left the sky, the rain had turned to sleet-and their clothing and few blankets were totally inadequate.
They layered on item after item, and still the cold penetrated to make them shiver. The wind kept stealing the heat from the fire, blowing straight into the cave and carrying the heat away through the vent that had been taking the smoke. They sat across from one another, shivering miserably, as the bitter cold penetrated into their bones.
When people review your fanfic and go "One cabin one blanket is so cliche and old! Think of some new way to make characters huddle for warmth!", now you can go BUT PROFESSIONAL AUTHORS DO IT TOO SO THERE
I guess you gotta pick up a trope from somewhere
"Maybe-just one kiss," she whispered. "That couldn't do any harm," he agreed huskily. Their faces slowly came together. They were so similar, in their backgrounds and their passion.
And they were both human. Ware would not even be able to protest, for Ware would be no more....
It was that which brought her to her senses, and she saw that he must have remembered the same thing at the same moment. Their lips, almost touching, halted. She shook her head, gently, and he nodded. They both knew that if the kiss did not destroy the demon, what would surely follow it would.
They remained chastely cradled in each others arms for the rest of the night, sharing no more than physical warmth. Finally, after a long, long, time, the wind died, and they slept.
YOU CAN NEVER CHEAT ON ME EVER OTHERWISE I WILL DIE AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT
In the morning neither of them spoke about their near-catastrophe, but it was on Xylina's mind and she knew it must be on Thesius's. The air was still brisk and chill, but Xylina generated her warmth with exercise. That exercise also took some of the edge off her desire, although it did not remove it. Only the knowledge of how nearly they had murdered Ware did that.
Nothing like a cup of nearly-murdered-your-boyfriend to wake you up in the mornings.
She could not continue, but he seemed to understand everything she could not say.
"But you were true to me, both of you," he whispered comfortingly in her ear, "because otherwise I would not be here."
She could not tell him that this was exactly what she meant, but when she finally pulled away a little and looked into his eyes, she saw that he already knew.
He had known the risk he was taking, and he had trusted them both: trusted their honor, and their strength of spirit. Trusted them more than they had trusted themselves.
HAHA I PLANNED IT ALL ALONG TO SEE IF YOU'D BE FAITHFUL TO ME HAHA DANCE PUPPETS this doesn't seem healthy at all
That night, the three of them shared a sleeping-place, with Ware between the two humans. And oddly, now that the temptation had been weathered, Xylina found that she no longer desired Thesius-and when he glanced at her, she no longer saw that mirroring desire in his face. He felt, instead, like the brother he resembled, and for the first time in her life, she felt complete-for now she had everything, a friend in Faro, a brother in Thesius, and a beloved in the form of Ware.
Well we nearly had some conflict there, better write that out of the story immediately.
For the first time, she made love to Ware with Thesius lying naked beside them. When she finished, she lay without jealousy as Wara made love to Thesius. She had accepted the new reality, though it was alien to anything she could have believed before this excursion. She didn't even feel guilty. This was love of a different kind, but nevertheless love, all the greater for the understanding it required.
UGH GROSS THEY'RE RIGHT THERE, AT LEAST GO TO SOME OTHER PART OF THE CAVE OR SOMETHING
Anyway they go to the cave system that has the magic crystal or whatever and make a plan to sneak in.
Faro returned just as the sun crept above the horizon, a bundle of fabric under his arm. He passed it silently to Ware, who quickly donned it. It was one of the crystal-guards' uniforms; Xylina did not ask Faro how he had obtained one, and from whom. She was just grateful that there was no blood on it.
Faro's blowjobs can blow a man's clothes clean off.
So they distract all the guards and Xylina goes around some back entrance and sneaks through a crack in the wall. She makes it into a room above the guard room that has a weird slanted hole in the bottom for some reason. Accordingly, she conjures up a ton of water and floods the guard's room below, and they run off and she slides on down.
She slid, as if the sides had been greased. This was as exciting as the trip through the outer passage had been harrowing. The smooth walls of the water-tunnel slid by her; as Ware had instructed, she put out her feet now and again to brake her speed, but for the most part, she simply thrilled in the feeling of near-flight. As a small child she had slid down mud-slick banks on the family estate; this was to that feeling as her first primitive conjurations were to what she could do now!
Just like the Goonies!
So she goes into the crystal chamber and finds the shard, which is set up in a bunch of traps. What to do?
There was another way. For as she stared at the shard, she felt its magic ambience. It reached out to her, touching her mind, making it more clever, and it touched her heart, making her desire it with a passion as strong as she had ever desired a man. It touched her power, and suddenly she knew what she could do. And the crystal itself would help her.
Lightly she touched one finger to the shard, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Creating-vapor. Water vapor. Forcing water into every tiny crack and crevice of the holder until it was completely saturated. And then, with a twist of thought unlike any she had done before-
She turned it to ice.
Water, she had learned in her lessons from Marcus, expanded when it was frozen. Everything else contracted. In a moment, she had chilled the area down to where her breath made clouds in the air; the ice itself was as hard as steel.
In the past she had been able to conjure many substances, but they were normally of ambient temperature. Metal would not be hot or cold, water would seem cool but be the temperature of the surrounding air. One exception was ice: that was by its nature cold, so conjured that way. Otherwise it would have appeared as a puddle of water. But to actually, magically, change the temperature of an existing object or substance-that was a power hitherto reserved to the demons. Now, by virtue of the shard, it was hers. So she could heat water-or freeze it. She could do what no other Mazonite could, and what therefore the defenders of the shard had not anticipated. It had outsmarted them.
What a sudden turn of events!! This is such a stunning step forward in her zzzzzzzzzz
So she snags the crystal and splits. Now for a harrowing journey back the way they came! Or maybe a brave rescue mission for the extras that got caught last time!
"Xylina, why are you stopping?" Faro asked, as Xylina reined in her horse at the edge of the Pacha realm. Their trek across it had been a near mirror of their original trip, although with fewer people, and instead of the Pacha visiting their camps, they had traded conjured wine and feasts for Pacha hospitality. The Pacha had been thrilled with the bargain, and nearly every chieftain that had hosted them had begged them to stay.
Or we can just skip all of that.
Xylina decides not to give the crystal back to Adria, and they decide to chill out with the Pacha instead. She'll just keep the crystal! Eventually it'll drag her to the main crystal but whatevs deal with it when the time comes.
Adria is not pleased and calls up Xantippe (haha) to get some armies together to go and get the crystal. Surely this'll be an exciting battle filled with adventure and bravery and
Less than a day later, two armies marched out of the capital. The first, smaller and faster than the second, and composed entirely of veterans, was commanded by Xantippe, and was intended to cut Xylina's path of escape across Pacha lands. The second, composed mostly of newly-recruited slaves, was commanded by Queen Adria herself. This was the army that Xylina was intended to see.
The other, she was not meant to see until it was too late.
"I'm sorry, Xylina; I should have guessed she would do something like that-" Thesius was babbling; this was the fifth or sixth time that he had repeated his apology, but the second of Adria's forces had come as a terrible surprise to all of them. Xylina could not blame him for babbling. The jaws of the trap had closed on them, before they even realized that it was a trap.
Or we'll skip that too, I guess. Anyway they get overrun (since Xylina's so tired from practicing her new temperature powers) and omg the queen lets all her slaves die so evil, and then finally Xylina challenges the Queen to single combat OH NO FINALLY AFTER ALL THIS TIME
"How can I?" she wailed, despairing. "This is not Mazonia! She is not bound by the rules with a traitor and an oath-breaker! She need not-"
"But you have something she wants, little mistress," Faro pointed out, shrewdly and unexpectedly. "You have the shard. Send to her by the Pacha, and tell her that you will destroy it unless-"
"Unless she agrees to meet me! Of course!" Xylina's despair turned again to hope, and she jumped out of her simple wooden chair to hug Faro around the neck. He blushed, but grinned. Thesius had already run out of the room to fetch one of their Pacha "allies," who were willing to act as messengers and sometimes scouts so long as such duty did not directly involve them in combat.
As usual Faro tells Xylina what to do because durrrr. WHY AREN'T THE PACHA SACRIFICING THEMSELVES FOR OUR OWN PETTY WARS, WHAT KIND OF "ALLIES" ARE THEY
Anyway Xylina's already falling in love with the shard BUT WILL HER HEART REMAIN PURE??/ Adria is all for the challenge. Let's do this!
The burning sun beat down upon the two women: two combatants, who were the very antithesis of each other. Xylina, small, slender, long-waisted and high breasted, with her blond hair streaming down to her waist-and Adria, lean, whip-cord-tough, no more figure than a boy, and with her dark hair cut aggressively short. And yet Adria, who was by far the more experienced and tougher-looking, already showed some slight discomfort-perhaps from the exposure to the sun. Xylina, clothed only in her signature banner of hair, seemed completely serene and at ease-perhaps because she had been the plaything of the elements for some time now, and had gotten used to them.
Boyish dark-haired women are evil. They toss the crystal under two unbreakable domes they both conjured up, so no one can just grab it and run.
Xylina hoped that her own first move would take the Queen off-guard. The banner dropped.
An enormous block of stone appeared just above where Xylina was standing, and crashed down into the ground, smashing everything beneath it to powder. But Xylina was no longer there.
She had created a tiny springboard just in front of herself, and had used it to catapult herself through the air, landing well out of range of the stone, and-most importantly-right next to the domes protecting the shard. Now she could use the domes as a kind of shield, and unless Adria wanted to risk smashing the crystal, she could not use any more weapons like that block of stone.
What is this, Sonic the Hedgehog all of a sudden? Xylina conjures up an equal block above the queen, but she sets up some columns to hold it up, so stalemate! It turns out that since Xylina is so YOUNG AND TALENTED the Queen's getting fatigued already and all Xylina needs to do is outlast her and she'll be fine!
The Queen conjured a spiked metal ball that she hurled at Xylina. Xylina, wary of what else might be coming, stepped aside while conjuring her own matching spiked ball. Sure enough, the Queen's second ball came at her, and she was unable to dodge it. So she conjured her own second ball in the path of the Queen's. The two collided in air and dropped to the ground as Xylina threw hers at the Queen. The Queen stepped behind a post, and the ball missed. But Adria looked wary; she saw how readily Xylina was matching her, and she didn't want to try something that would hurt her when the response came. Xylina was, in effect, teaching her manners.
This IS like Sonic! Xylina figures that all she has to do is make Adria really angry so she'll waste her power and then she can win. So she dumps a whole bunch of poop on her.
Adria's next attack showed just how far she had fallen from that self-control; she began manifesting and throwing metal lances, one after the other. If the domes had not been in the way these could have been deadly, but now mostly clattered harmlessly off the adamant. This was basic, unsophisticated conjuration, worthy of a girl's first arena demonstration-as had been the case with Xylina. It was almost beneath the notice of an experienced Mazonite.
Xylina's reply was a deluge of water that washed away the manure, and left Adria’s legs dripping wet. She looked almost as ridiculous as before. The men roared again with helpless laughter, which was redoubled when Xylina dropped an enormous sponge and recognizable bar of soap in front of her. Mazonia had never seen combat like this!
Ha ha, hilarious! Such wit! Adria tries to stab her from below with some rock lances, so Xylina conjures a shield below her feet and turns the water around Adria to ice, which startles her a bit. Then she tries ice shards, gasp! Adria summons up some cotton around her to protect herself.
It better light soon, though, because the Queen was getting ready to return to the attack. An ominous fog was forming over Xylina. She focused with all her might-and saw a tiny wisp of smoke just behind Adria.
Then there was a puff of flame. She had done it! The batting was burning!
The Queen turned, smelling the smoke. "What-?"
Xylina wasted no time. She knew that the Queen would banish her cotton in a moment, leaving nothing to bum. She had to pounce while she had the flame. So she conjured more fluid.
This time, what Xylina doused the Queen with was not water. It was naptha. And she followed it with oil.
The Queen, and everything around her, exploded into flames. They leaped up throughout the area as the oil flowed. It was impossible for Adria to run out of the fire fast enough-not with her oil-soaked legs already burning. There was so much oil that it fueled a fire that reached far into the sky, an inferno. Much more than the Queen must have thought Xylina was capable of conjuring at this stage. So she had been caught by surprise, thinking her opponent no stronger than herself.
Xylina slid down off the domes to cower behind the adamant as the fireball blasted everything in the vicinity. The Queen's scream of agony echoed in her ears, and went on for a long and terrible time; she covered both her ears with her hands, and still it echoed in her very soul, until she feared that the echo of it would never leave her, and she would hear it in her dreams for the rest of her life.
Finally she could not bear it any longer. She conjured one last time; another block of stone identical to Adria's first attack, a stone which she dropped on the burning Queen, extinguishing blaze, scream, and the last pitiful remnants of Adria's life.
Hardcore. Xylina wins and everyone oohs and aahs about how she conjured up three times as much as the queen XYLINA IS SO TALENTED AND AMAZING
Xylina then decides whatevs and sends the armies home all I WILL NOT BE YOUR QUEEEN so who knows who'll be Queen instead, who cares, let's hang out with the Pacha
The little rock-walled room was very crowded with five people in it. "My Queen-" Xantippe said, awkwardly. Xylina interrupted her with a shake of her head. She was bone-weary, and wearing the plainest tunic and trousers she owned, simply to try to show Xantippe by her very clothing that she had no intention of taking power.
"I told you, I am not your Queen. I am not anybody's Queen. Do I have to go all over this again?" She sipped cold water to ease a throat raw from weeping. And she was not certain for whom she had wept more-the Queen, the hundreds of slaves slaughtered in this stupid battle, or herself. "Or do you finally understand?"
Truly, Xylina is the real victim here.
"I do not understand, but I know what you want," Xantippe replied, dubiously. "You want someone else to be Queen; you do not care whom, so long as the new Queen leaves you in peace. You even suggested me! You do not want power. You will sign a treaty with the new Queen that pledges you will remain in Pacha lands and attempt to keep this stone you wear from dragging you off to the main crystal-and in return, you wish some trade with the demons, all of Ware's property and gold to be accessible to him so that he may build you and Thesius an estate here, and sanctuary for any slaves that escape and make it this far. I do not understand this, but I think that we can pledge it."
Thanks for the exposition Xantippe, you can go now.
"Good." Xylina sighed, and leaned back in her seat, which was now of fine leather and strong velvet. The only spoils of war she had accepted were the Queen's traveling properties-a luxurious tent and all appointments-and those slaves who wished to remain in Pacha lands and join one of the tribes. She could not grant that wish of her ten dead men-but she could grant it to others.
Or the SLAVES YOU JUST LET GET CAPTURED BY LIZARDMEN AND LEFT FOR DEAD
"Xantippe, I wish only to preserve my land and its way of life for as long as I am able. The shard is dangerous. I will not be able to do this forever. Ware tells me that eventually this shard will cause me to turn against you, and on that day, when I cross the border of Mazonia, you must consider me an enemy. But that will be long after you are dead, and probably long after every other Mazonite in this army is dead. For now-just leave us in peace. We will not trouble you, and we will not permit the freed slaves to trouble you."
Sequel hook!
"Was it worth it, beloved?" the incubus asked, his face mirroring a concern he had not shown the two men. "I know how everything since the challenge has troubled your soul. It was I who urged you to all of this in the first place. If I had not done this, entrapped you, gotten you involved-"
"I would have ended my life a bitter and hateful woman, just like Adria," Xylina interrupted, taking his hand and kissing it. "If not long since ignominiously dead. And with your help-we have given my people some warning, and perhaps some time to adjust to what will inevitably come. Perhaps this time when the change comes, it may come without terrible cost, death and chaos. And no matter what happens-"
She took his hand in hers, and looked deeply into his eyes, smiling for the first time in many days. "We will meet it together."
The end! Barrrf.
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! DUAL AUTHOR'S NOTES! Anthony's is way longer than Lackey's, but that's not a huge surprise. Mostly it's just blah blah I was born here or blah blah I like writing
BUT THEN IN ANTHONY'S PART THINGS GET INTERESTING
This particular one was like an arranged marriage. Collaboration, it has been said, has the problems of wedlock, without the benefits. That's why most writers avoid it. But sometimes the vagaries of situation can force such a merger. In effect I went to Jim Baen of Baen Books and said, "Here's my notion, but I don't have time to do it myself; can you find me someone to write it?" He checked his prospects and found Mercedes (Misty) Lackey. "But I'm too busy too!" she surely protested. But he had an answer: "You're the best possible writer for a notion such as this. I wouldn't give it to just anyone." So she reconsidered, and concluded that she would have to make time. Thus it came to be. No, I never met Misty; remember what I said above about no benefits? My daughter Penny did, however, at a convention, so there was a tenuous connection. Daughters are marvelous creatures. I can't think why anyone would want to have sons. So Misty wrote it, and then I went over her text. This was no rubber stamp effort; anything with my name on it must meet my standards. I did a complete job of copy-editing and spot revisions and additions, exactly as I do for my own drafts, polishing the novel to my satisfaction and expanding it by ten thousand words. Those who are conversant with Misty's writing and mine will see aspects of both here, just as both of our ideas are represented. Thus I did the top and bottom of it, the summary and the revision. Picture a sandwich: I'm the two slices of bread. Most of the nourishment is in the center, but without the bread it wouldn't exist.
Consider this in light of that other quote he had about this, where he said Lackey dumped a manuscript on him so terrible that he refused to ever work with her again, thus dooming the series to one book. BUT WE CAN'T HAVE ANY OF THAT IN HERE.
I MENTIONED THE SHOCKING THING UP THERE
WHAT IS IT, YOU ASK?
HERE IT IS
Naturally, as I reviewed it, fate stepped in. My belief in the supernatural is nonexistent; I write fantasy, I don't believe it. This may be why supernatural occurrences keep pestering me. In this case, just as I was reviewing the scene in which Xylina contemplates suicide, I received a letter from a young woman who was doing the same. Her name was Julie, and she had a cross that she wore continuously, day and night, her most precious possession. She enclosed that cross, and it sits by my computer as I type this. By that token I knew that she was near the end. Yes, I'm doing my best to persuade her to take back her cross, but the issue is undecided at the time of this writing. I researched to ascertain what type it is, and concluded that it is of the general description known as pattée: that is, widening in the arms, in the manner of paws. Pattée means paw-like. And so I added a character in honor of that cross-a character who did not die. I hope. Further research satisfied me that the cross is actually of another description, clechée, meaning like an ancient key, but I decided to let Pattée the character be. There are limits.
A WOMAN WROTE INTO PIERS ANTHONY SAYING SHE WAS CONSIDERING SUICIDE
SO ANTHONY WROTE HER INTO THE BOOK AS A PROSTITUTE RAPE SLAVE WITH PAWS FOR HANDS WHO EVENTUALLY GOT KIDNAPPED AND SOLD INTO SLAVERY AGAIN AND MAY OR MAY NOT BE DEAD
WHAT THE #$^#
I also posted this at dreamwidth with reluctant ambivalence. Comment here or there, don't matter to me!