Trials by Kady Cross
TRIALS
Rogue Mage Anthology Vol. I
21 Vignettes and Short Stories set in Faith Hunter’s World of Thorn St. Croix
Edited by Spike Y Jones with Faith Hunter
The Rogue Mage world began long ago, when the epic battle between the High Host and the Darkness was won and lost. Now, nine writers—including Faith Hunter herself—take fans of Thorn St. Croix into the past, before the opening pages of BLOODRING. These stories, set in Faith Hunter's Rogue Mage world, are adventures with new characters and old, facing dangers unimaginable. And they must save the world all over again.
If you ever wondered what happened between seraphs, kylen, second-unforeseen, mages, seraph-touched, spawn, humans, dragons, and their creatures before the series, now is your chance to delve deeper and wider. The e-book TRIALS presents twenty-one vignettes and short stories. TRIALS will be followed soon by TRIBULATIONS, and then by the trade paperback omnibus TRIUMPHANT. Enjoy!
TRIALS Authors: Faith Hunter, Misty Massey, Lou J Berger, Ken Schrader, Spike Y Jones, Diana Pharaoh Francis, Christina Stiles, Tamsin Silver, Melissa McArthur.
TRIBULATIONS Authors: Faith Hunter, Jean Rabe, Spike Y Jones, Christina Stiles, and Lucienne Diver.
TRIALS
ROGUE MAGE ANTHOLOGY I
ISBN: 978-1-62268-112-9
Stone Walls a Prison Make, The Honeymoon is Over, Set in Stone, Wind Blown, TNT, Day One, Wheels in Motion, Bait, Storm Songs, Alone, Sons, and The Best-Laid Plans Copyright © 2016 Faith Hunter.
Finding the Way Copyright © 2016 Misty Massey.
Epena’s Epiphany Copyright © 2016 Lou J Berger.
The Price of Power Copyright © 2016 Ken Schrader.
Monster and The Stars Were Right Copyright © 2016 Spike Y Jones.
Ashes and Dust Copyright © 2016 Diane Pharaoh Francis.
Defiance Copyright © 2016 Christina Stiles.
Mettilwynd Copyright © 2016 Tamsin Silver.
Requiem of the Sea Copyright © 2016 Melissa McArthur.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For more information contact Lore Seekers Press, P.O. Box 4251 CRS, Rock Hill, SC 29732. Or online at www.loreseekerspress.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Published in the USA November 2016.
Cover illustration by Mike Pruette.
Lore Seekers Press is an imprint of Bella Rosa Books.
Lore Seekers Press and logo are trademarks of Bella Rosa Books.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Spike Y Jones and Faith Hunter
Prologue: Stone Walls a Prison Make
Circa 3000 BC
Faith Hunter
The Honeymoon is Over
June 12, 2011 AD
Faith Hunter
Finding the Way
5 PA / 2017 AD
Misty Massey
Set in Stone
6 PA / 2018 AD
Faith Hunter
Wind Blown
14 PA / 2026 AD
Faith Hunter
TNT
23 PA / 2035 AD
Faith Hunter
Epena’s Epiphany
34 PA / 2046 AD
Lou J Berger
The Price of Power
36 PA / 2048 AD
Ken Schrader
Day One
38 PA / 2050 AD
Faith Hunter
Monster
38-51 PA / 2050-2063 AD
Spike Y Jones
Wheels in Motion
52 PA / 2064 AD
Faith Hunter
Bait
53 PA / 2065 AD
Faith Hunter
Ashes and Dust
57 PA / 2069 AD
Diane Pharaoh Francis
Storm Songs
63 PA / 2075 AD
Faith Hunter
Defiance
76 PA / 2088 AD
Christina Stiles
The Stars Were Right
84 PA / 2096 AD
Spike Y Jones
Alone
94 PA / 2106 AD
Faith Hunter
Mettilwynd
95-103 PA / 2107-2115 AD
Tamsin Silver
Sons
100 PA / 2112 AD
Faith Hunter
Requiem of the Sea
101 PA / 2113 AD
Melissa McArthur
The Best-Laid Plans
104 PA / 2116 AD
Faith Hunter
Introductions
From Spike:
When I was first asked by roleplaying game writer Christina Stiles to work with her on the Rogue Mage RPG back in 2007, I’d never heard of New York Times bestselling author Faith Hunter or her Rogue Mage trilogy of novels. In fact, nobody had gotten around to coining the “Rogue Mage trilogy” term to describe the books at that point, as the third novel hadn’t even been released yet. But Christina and I had worked together on a number of projects, and I trusted her judgement and signed on to the project.
After some years of hard work, the roleplaying game was released—as the ROGUE MAGE RPG PLAYER’S HANDBOOK and GAME MASTER’S GUIDE, available in print from Bella Rosa Books and downloadable from Misfit Studios. Then Faith asked me about the next Rogue Mage project. Faith had written a couple dozen short-short vignettes as chapter splashes for the game books, and she thought that they could be combined with an equal amount of new material to make an anthology set in the Rogue Mage universe, bringing those stories to readers who might not have seen them in the games, while providing new stories to please fans who wanted more. And she wanted me to edit the new material.
One thing led to another, and Rogue Mage: TRIALS and the upcoming companion volume Rogue Mage: TRIBULATIONS are now double the size of that original conception. Along with new Faith Hunter vignettes and short stories, Faith, her agent Lucienne Diver, and I assembled a group of other writers who we felt would enjoy writing in “the Faithiverse.” Heck, even I got a chance to contribute, writing a handful of pieces scattered over the two volumes.
There are two things I’ve really enjoyed about working on these anthologies.
The first are the stories.
Rogue Mage: TRIALS isn’t just about the adventures of Thorn St. Croix, “the rogue mage.” It’s about the entire Rogue Mage universe. There are, of course, stories featuring Thorn and the supporting cast of the novels, but also stories set decades, or even millennia, before the stars of the series were born. In fact, instead of the thematic approach that many other short story collections take, the stories in Rogue Mage: TRIALS are arranged chronologically, on a timeline that stretches from a prehistory hinted at in some books of the Bible to a point just months before the start of BLOODRING, the first of the Rogue Mage novels. (Rogue Mage: TRIBULATIONS will feature stories set at the same time as the novels, as well as continuing Thorn St. Croix’s saga past the end of the third novel, HOST.)
The stories are set in other parts of the USA, in other countries, on different continents. They feature neomages, of course, but also kylen, humans, and others. There’s humour, adventure, tragedy, romance, and a bunch of windows opened into the detailed back-story of the Rogue Mage setting. It was a challenge to make these diverse stories come together into a cohesive volume, and a puzzle sometimes figuring out exactly where each piece fit, but I think we managed to make it work.
And the second thing I’ve enjoyed are the authors.
I didn’t know the majority of these writers before we got started, and there were some . . . disagreements between some of us. But in
In the ROGUE MAGE RPG PLAYER’S HANDBOOK I couldn’t imagine what the next project was going to be after that major undertaking. Well, now I’m here on the other side of the next project, and I wonder what we’re going to do to top this.
—Spike Y Jones
From Faith:
For years I have been asked, “When’s the next Rogue Mage book?” and, “Is the series really over? It feels unfinished!”
And now I can say: The series isn’t dead. Now you have millennia of stories gathered in two volumes, fiction by some fantastic authors and me.
And . . . the series is in your hands, Rogue Mage fans. Buy, read, review, and enjoy. And if enough of you still remember and love the series, then there might yet be that long-awaited ending, in serialized novella form. Fingers crossed that you remember and love Thorn St. Croix and the others in her world!
—Faith Hunter
Prologue
Stone Walls a Prison Make
circa 3000 BC
Faith Hunter
Batarel lunged at them, his wrists trapped by the silver and gold manacles that secured him to the chamber wall. The cuffs and chains were inscribed with the list of crimes he’d committed, with Scripture, and with the words of the Most High.
The seraphs watched, just beyond the length of the chains, their faces impassive, though Batarel’s pain was urging them to help him. His tears smelled of incense and longing.
Itqal stood against the far wall of the cavern. He was here as an observer, watching only, to witness that the three brothers of the condemned carried out the orders of the High Host.
An angel of affection, he was unused to the horror of judgment, but he would do his duty to the Most High and to the High Host.
Even more so, Itqal had been unused to the fury of battle and the anger of its aftermath, but he had been pulled into the war, standing armed, protecting the Most High from the third of the Host who had pulled away, the third who had followed the Red Dragon into sin, who had joined together in rebellion. And though this watcher, Batarel, had not joined Azazel in his uprising, he had observed the atrocities committed by the Dragon and his Dark Host and had done nothing—nothing to help either side. A watcher indeed, and in the worst manner.
Afriel, who stood watchguard over the young in Heaven and on Earth, stepped close to the condemned, sudden tears scoring his perfect face. “I am sorry, my brother. But I saw what happened to the ones under my charge. I saw their remains.”
“I harmed none in the infernal war!” Batarel shouted, his chains clanging in a minor key. “I watched only, and only from afar!”
“You speak truth of your part in the rebellion, although you did not call for us when you saw the Dragon gather his forces, and this was held against you in the Court of the High Host. But you are judged not for the war, but for your crimes against mankind,” Afriel said, “for your sins. There, on Earth, among the children of men and among your many women, you did not protect the young. Your crimes there cannot be numbered.”
“Nooooo . . .” Batarel keened.
“Yes. The Most High has seen.” Afriel breathed in the scent of his brother’s pain and spoke the words of the incantation. “You have been my brother in the River of Time, but you are my brother no more. I revoke and retract all vows made in the time of your innocence. For your crimes there is no defense.” Afriel turned his back and snapped his wings forward over his body, hiding his face.
Batarel screamed in fury, his bell-toned anger the scent of burned stone.
Hadiririon stepped forward, and at his holy glare Batarel lowered his head, gasping, weeping, begging, “You are the beloved angel of God. You are holy. Yet you are here to pass judgment on me for crimes I did not commit.”
“No, my brother. Judgment has already been rendered, punishment will be swift. Extend your wings.”
“I will not.”
“Then we shall do it for you,” Hadiririon said. Faster than Itqal could process it, faster than if the other seraph had moved through the River of Time, Hadiririon was beside Batarel, his seraph steel sword raised. At the other side stood Vohal, his sword raised as well. The seraphs gripped the bones beneath the feathers’ roots and pulled Batarel’s wings straight. Vohal shouted, “All glory to the Most High!” They cut down, each with a single mighty sword stroke, slicing through flesh and bones. Angelic blood sprayed across the cave walls. Batarel screamed.
The seraphs dropped the wings to the floor, the magnificent plumage a carpet of red-stained green. Batarel fell to his knees.
Hiding his emotions, turning his dark eyes away from the bleeding watcher, Itqal pulled his battle-scorched cloak close, shifting his wings and his sword, the blade scraping against the rock wall. “It is done. Seal the cave.”
With his words, he and the three seraphs of judgment stepped back and to the other side of the cavern. Although they could see into the cave with ease, the condemned could not see them, could not feel them. He was cut off. He was alone. He was now as he would be, throughout the rest of his eternity, until the end-time judgment by the mankind he had wronged.
The seraphs touched the cave walls with their swords and, as Itqal watched, white light flowed outwards from the sword tips in all directions onto the walls, across the cave roof and floor, brighter than the sun. Batarel screamed again, a jarring clash of notes, a song of anguish, of loss. And the light rose and rose, covering the watcher’s legs, his torso, his head, growing harder, sealing him in until even the notes of his grief were only a faint vibration in the rock.
The three seraphs of judgment spoke together, repeating the words of the sundering of brotherhood as one. “You have been my brother in the River of Time, but you are my brother no more. I revoke and retract all vows made in the time of your innocence. For your crimes there is no defense. For your crimes there is no defense. For your crimes there is no defense.”
The white light solidified, harder than quartz, and the light went out. Batarel’s cries were shut off. And the stone began to darken and harden, drawing inward, growing smaller, denser.
Once, long ago, the small chamber had been part of a series of interconnected caverns. Now the cave was to be left sealed until the end of time.
“It is done,” Itqal said, “by the words and will of the Most High.”
And then, as the four left the dark cavern for the light of the mountainside, the saddest duty was Itqal’s to perform. The angel of affection’s head tilted to one side, as if listening to a voice whispering from a distance. “There is another. Our brother Kochabiel. Not a watcher—a participant. Again we must fly.” The tear that slid down Itqal’s cheek was golden in the sun’s setting light.
FAITH HUNTER is the NYT and USAToday bestselling author of the Jane Yellowrock series, the Soulwood series and the Rogue Mage series. She collects orchids and animal skulls, loves the rain, and writes fantasy. She likes to cook soup and bake homemade bread, and go to the shooting range to hone her skills. She also runs Class III whitewater rivers, edits the occasional anthology, and drinks a lot of tea. Some days she’s a lady. Some days she ain’t.
For more, see www.faithhunter.net , www.gwenhunter.com and www.magicalwords.net. To keep up with her, like her fan page at Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/official.faith.hunter
The Honeymoon is Over
June 12, 2011
Faith Hunter
Carl slid his arm around Ella, holding her close, smelling the new perfume she’d bought in a small shop on a side street near their hotel. “Camellia, maybe,” he whispered in her ear. “Something soft and floral. Delicate, like you. Hold still,” he said, positioning her in front of him and raising the camera. “I want to get this shot of you in that dress, with the Eiffel Tower in the background.”
“You have four hours
“Okay. I’ll get that man over there to . . .” his voice trailed off.
“Carl?”
“Damn,” he whispered.
Ella followed the aim of the camera, turning around. The grass was baked dry by summer, the sky touched by a few puffy clouds. The Eiffel Tower was the only thing in the background. And Ella followed the lens up, up, to its top. To the bright light that flickered and sparkled. It hadn’t been there before, she was sure of it. And then she saw the thing standing on the very top in the center of the too-bright light. Not a man. It was too huge.