Heroes: A Raconteur House Anthology Read online

  Published by Raconteur House

  Manchester, TN

  Printed in the USA through Ingram Distributing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Heroes: An Anthology

  A Raconteur House book/ published by arrangement with the authors

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Raconteur House mass-market edition/July 2014

  Copyright © 2014 by Honor Raconteur, Esther Saks, Gavin Driskell, Jordan MacLean, Glenn Michaels

  Cover Illustration by Honor Raconteur

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information address:

  Raconteur House

  164 Whispering Winds Dr.

  Manchester, TN, 37355

  ISBN:

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  www.raconteurhouse.com

  Foreword

  When I first started working on the Artifactor series, I knew that Sevana would be a child prodigy in her field. I came up with the idea of her first case, where she saves Morgan from the Sleeping Princess Curse, and laughed as I imagined it in my head. I always felt it was a shame that I couldn’t somehow tell more of the story, as it wasn’t just a funny story, but a remarkable tale of bravery. What kind of nine year old, no matter how gifted, can take on another’s life and save it? I wanted to tell the story, but knew that it wouldn’t fit in Child Prince or Dreamer’s Curse. I also knew that it wouldn’t be large enough to even make into a novella. I was lost on how to publish it.

  I’d almost given up the idea of writing the story entirely when I realized that within my circle of friends and business acquaintances I knew quite a few authors. Some of them were new to the field, still in the process of publishing their first books, others were authors from my own publishing house. I approached them with the idea of an anthology, hoping that by combining their stories with Sevana’s backstory, I’d have a way of bringing the story out for the public to read. To my surprise and pleasure, they all enthusiastically agreed and instantly started sending me ideas.

  It was not, I admit, an easy road to put all of this together. We struggled with it for several months as five different authors strove to find the time and the mental creativity to write a short story suitable for the anthology. We threw out ideas, started from scratch several times, extended deadlines, and drove several editors crazy. I thought at one point that we’d never get this thing published. Still, in the end, we made it.

  I present to you Heroes, a collection of short stories that tell of the true meaning of courage.

  -Honor

  Index

  The Sleeping Prince(ss) by Honor Raconteur

  Young Sevana Warren is faced with the daunting mission of rescuing her cursed best friend from the Sleep Princess curse. And while she may be a child prodigy, she is only nine, and the particular consequences of the curse couldn’t be more dire. For death is a certain result if she can’t wake him up.

  The Trials of Isaac Edmundson by Esther Saks

  All Isaac Edmundson has ever wanted is to be free from his apprenticeship to the Oracle. The one his Dad lost him in a bet to. And when the Oracle goes on vacation for the first time in, well, ever, Isaac grabs at the chance to leave. But when his plans go awry (namely due to unwanted customers), Isaac has a decision to make: go ahead and leave or stay and clean up the mess he’s made.

  Gnomish Night Railroad by Gavin Driskell

  Twiggs Barkvalve, gnome engineer and wayport specialist, finds himself taken hostage by grollops who want him to create the magical trains gnomes are known for. Along the way back into grollop territory, Twiggs learns information that can save the dying gnome race, but the question is, how can he tell his king the news without endangering everything and everyone in the process?

  Cry Havoc by Jordan MacLean

  Morgetiud ap Aeddan is determined to make up for his cowardice so many centuries ago and finally end his curse of immortality. He’s certain that the next step in his absolution lies in the sunken Aethelfrith in the form of treasures his king had promised would turn the tide of battle against the Norman invaders. However, in his search for truth and resolution, he must decide what is truly important and if the cost for his dreams is worth the price.

  Mepa by Glenn Michaels

  With the testing of the ground breaking gravitic drive, Colonel Vladimir Ushakov is proud to be a part of securing Russia’s future in the space race. An onboard explosion destroys their chance at making history as victors, instead putting them in a position of crash landing on Earth’s surface and killing millions. Vladimir is faced with the ultimate captain’s choice: follow orders and save his people, or go down fighting and secure Russia’s place in history.

  Sevana tried to ignore the insistent tugging on her sleeve, but no matter how many times she squirmed and shrugged it off, her pest didn’t give up. Frustrated, she put the book and diagnostic wand down on the table and turned her head, putting her on eye level with the wolf.

  “What, Hinun?”

  The big grey wolf made a soft whining noise in the back of his throat and took a step backward, enticing her to follow.

  She planted her feet and met him look for look. The Illeyanic wolf possessed more intelligence than most animals, or even most people, and Master often sent his wolf as a messenger to fetch his erstwhile apprentice. Sevana didn’t normally care for the summons, as it inevitably interrupted her in the middle of something important—like now. Master had given her two days to figure out this spell and counter it. She had only one left at this point, so she really couldn’t afford interruptions.

  “Unless the old goat’s set himself on fire,” she informed the wolf tartly, “I’m not going.”

  Did he just roll his eyes? Hinun lost all patience with her, grabbed the back of her shirt with his teeth, and started hauling her toward the door.

  “Hinun! What do you think you’re doing?! Let go of me!” Sevana struggled, not at all liking the feeling of hot, wet breath along her back. Her boots scraped along the sides as he dragged her into the hallway. She half-feared he would just drag her up the stairs as well, but the wolf proved smarter than that. Or at least more charitable. Instead, he stopped at the foot of the staircase and planted himself firmly in her path so that the only direction she could go was up.

  Sevana growled out a curse that would have earned a mouthful of soap if Master had heard her. She stood on the bottom step and straightened out her shirt, all the while fussing about Hinun’s drool causing a wet spot in the center of her back. The wolf looked unmoved by her mutterings.

  As the youngest and newest apprentice under Master Artifactor Tashjian Joles, Sevana had the lowest level of the house. It possessed four levels, each one built higher along the side of the mountain like a giant staircase, all connected by a single stairwell. Master, of course, had the top level, which meant she would have to climb four sets o
f stairs just to see what the old man wanted. In fact, it was because of those four sets of stairs that he often sent his wolf to get his apprentices.

  Resigned and irritable, she gave in to the inevitable and started thumping her way upwards, each wooden step echoing like a war drum in her wake.

  By the time she’d passed Sarsen’s and Gilon’s levels, she could hear Master’s scratchy voice floating down the stairs, “You sound like an elephant, Sevana!”

  He often said so. Unfazed, she kept right on going until she came to the top level and stepped out of the stairwell. “Master, will you stop sending Hinun after m—ooofff.” She staggered a little under the impact as something solid hit her in the midriff. In reflex, she grabbed the wall for support, grasping the edges hard to keep from falling back down the stairs.

  “Sev!” a happy voice said into her stomach. The rambunctious six-year-old that had tackled her finally looked up, sandy blond hair messy as usual, brown eyes shining at her in frank adoration, a wide smile on his face.

  “Shion,” she responded, half-resigned, half-pleased at her brother’s appearance. “You snuck onto Uncle Ralston’s wagon again, didn’t you?”

  “Mama and Da won’t let me see you!” Shion complained in a near whine. “They say it’s too far!”

  “It does take a week to get here from Milby,” Ralston pointed out patiently. The tinker sat in a comfortable chair next to Master near the hearth, both men with their boots propped up, looking entirely relaxed. Misty drops hung from Ralston’s dark beard, his weathered skin ruddy, hinting that the winter storm Master predicted last night had finally hit. Sevana hadn’t paid any attention to the weather outside, but clearly the tinker had been out in it most of the day.

  Master must have stepped outside to let his guests in, as his thick white hair also looked damp, with dark patches along his thin shoulders, dark skin showing a hint of pink.

  She frowned and looked down at Shion. Her little brother was in the same condition. Normally, if weather like that swept through, they’d huddle inside the wagon or take shelter at a nearby inn until the worst of it passed. So why had they instead pushed on?

  “Shion, what’s wrong?”

  His smile faded into a troubled frown, the grip he had around her waist tightening. “Sissy, it’s bad. Morgan’s been cursed.”

  Cursed? She studied his face for a long moment. He didn’t look like he was joking… “You’re pulling my leg.”

  Shion shook his head unhappily. “I’m not.”

  She looked up sharply, searching Ralston’s face. The man’s expression had tightened and worry shone in his eyes. “Morgan’s been cursed?!”

  “We assume so.”

  Master lifted a gnarled finger, inserting a question as his dark eyes darted between the three. “And who exactly is Morgan?”

  “My son,” Ralston answered simply. “He and Sevana were childhood playmates until you took her in.”

  He was one of the few that would always play with her in the village. He could be annoying, irritating, and an outright pest, but whenever she wanted a friend, he was always there. Sevana swallowed past a tight throat and rasped, “What happened?”

  “We don’t know,” Ralston admitted, troubled, his eyes falling to the clasped hands on his stomach. “Shion found him collapsed in Nickerchen.”

  Sevana let her head fall back and she let out a long groan of understanding.

  Master cleared his throat and asked mildly, “Why do I feel like I’m constantly a step behind in this conversation?”

  “I apologize, Master Tashjian.” Ralston looked back up as he explained, “Nickerchen Ruins are not more than a stone’s throw from Milby Village. It’s the castle where the Sleeping Princess curse originated.”

  Master’s bushy white eyebrows rose. “You think he fell prey to the Sleeping Princess curse?”

  “That’s one of the things we came to consult you about.” Ralston spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Can a boy fall prey to that curse? I thought it would only curse girls, so I didn’t worry much when Morgan and Shion went to play there, but…”

  Letting out a long, thoughtful hum, Master relaxed back into his chair and pondered this for a moment. The room fell into taut silence, only the crack and snap of the fire making any noise. Even Sevana held her breath, hands unconsciously holding her brother closer to her as she watched and waited for her master’s verdict.

  “There has never been a documented case of a boy falling prey to that curse,” Master finally stated slowly, clearly still thinking. “However, you must understand that the cause and origin of the curse has never been understood. We have no documentation surrounding that time. And it could very well be that your son has fallen prey to something else, such as a sickness, and his collapse isn’t magical at all.”

  “Yes, Master Tashjian, we’re aware,” Ralston said respectfully, hands tightening until his knuckles shone white. “But Sevana’s father and the doctor both came to look at him and neither one could find a reason why he’s unconscious. He’s been sleeping peacefully for over a week now with no sign of waking.”

  “That sounds like a curse alright.” Sevana stepped away from Shion’s strangle hold to stand directly in front of Master. “We need to go.”

  He met her look for look, his face in that unreadable expression she hated. “Curse or no curse, these people can’t afford me, Sevana. If I step in and fix whatever’s wrong with the boy, it’s going to cost a pretty penny.”

  “So I’ll work it off,” she countered. “Or make it one of your community projects, or whatever you call it, so that you don’t have to charge them.”

  Master’s face became expressionless, as easy to read as a stone statue. “It’s not a community that I would be helping, but a single person. You know it doesn’t work like that, sweetling. And you’re not in a situation where you can pay for my services either.”

  “Then I’ll save him,” she countered instantly. She didn’t for one second really believe that she could break the curse, but she knew very well that if she went down there, Master would have to go too. And if she could just get him down there, he’d be that much easier to convince. “It’ll be my next project or lesson or whatever you want to call it. You’ll just watch over me as I work.”

  Master’s face softened into a gentle smile. “Well. This boy is dear to you, isn’t he? It’s the first time I’ve seen you so adamant about helping someone.”

  That hit closer to home than she could admit, even to herself. Snorting, she looked away, eyes on the far corner of the ceiling. “That’s got nothing to do with it. Childhood friends are just difficult to replace, that’s all.”

  “Says a child herself,” Tashjian teased, chuckling. “Well, Master Ralston, your son’s friend wants to fly off to the rescue. As her teacher, I can’t well let her go off alone, so I’ll tag along. As long as your family gives us room and board while we work on the problem, I’ll count it as a fair bargain, since you’re giving my apprentice valuable experience.”

  Ralston had tears in his eyes as he bowed to them both. “Many thanks, Master Tashjian, Sevana.”

  Shion returned to his sister’s side, both of his hands gripping one of hers. Uncertainly, he asked her, “You can save him, right?”

  “One way or the other, I will,” she promised firmly, sliding out of his grip. She hid her hands behind her back so that no one could see them shaking. “Master, I’m leaving at day’s break.”

  His eyes crinkled up in amusement as he pushed himself to his feet. “Then we’d best start packing.”

  It took a solid week of traveling to make it to Milby. During that time, Sevana tried to get as much information from Shion as she could, but a non-magical six year old didn’t know much. He and Morgan had gone to the ruins to play that morning, along with a group of other children, and when they’d gathered at the end of a long run of hide-and-seek, only Morgan had been missing. They’d spread out to look for him and found him collapsed on his side at the base of the
main door to the castle. Shion had run for the village, screaming for help, a group of adults had fetched Morgan home again, and he hadn’t woken up since. Morgan’s parents had been feeding him a steady diet of liquids and broths so he wouldn’t starve, but Morgan never stirred.

  They arrived in Milby just as the weather turned terribly cold, heralding a harsh winter. Sevana, who despised being cold, huddled in her cloak and kept her brother and Hinun both close in order to stay as warm as possible. Master’s land carriage trundled along behind Uncle Ralston’s as they pulled up in front of the Chansamone house on the outskirts of the village. Quite a few neighbors stepped outside for a moment, looking at this strange vehicle that didn’t need a horse or ox to pull it, but the cold soon sent them back inside.

  Morgan’s mother, Morena, stepped outside as they pulled around back and into the small stable yard. She hovered in the doorway with a thick shawl around her shoulders, looking haggard and much older than Sevana remembered. But that could be because of the frayed braid and the dark circles under the matron’s eyes. Morena was always a lively woman with an infectious smile and a friendly nature. To see her looking drawn and worried made an uneasy knot form in Sevana’s stomach. She’d half-hoped that this would be a wasted trip, that when she arrived Morgan would be recovered already and back on his feet. The look on his mother’s face dispelled such hopes.

  Sevana leaped lightly from the land carriage, hissing as a nasty shaft of cold air penetrated under her cloak as she moved. She didn’t pause as Shion scrambled down himself, or wait for her master. She just grabbed her bag from the floor of the carriage and headed straight for the door.

  “Sevana,” Morena greeted, reaching out and grabbing her in a tight hug, which squashed the apprentice Artifactor and prevented her from breathing for a good five seconds. “I’m so glad to see you, my dear. I wish it wasn’t because of this, though.”