by Taki Drake
The next moment, Dascha was swept up in a tight hug. Clutched to the young woman’s chest, the black cat listened to the witch’s heartbeat and realized that her own was settling to the same rhythm. She smelled the familiar scent of Zhanna’s shampoo and the odors of Baba’s cooking. Something that had been tensed and tight at the core of her body and soul loosened and relaxed.
Dascha was home.
Epilogue
Somebody really needed to do something about all these butterflies. There was just too many of them for a single cat to be able to catch. Dascha had been chasing all over the garden, trying to catch the blasted things in an effort to play the game with her witch. Zhanna had been weeding the garden for her Baba and had been bored. Dascha thought she could help by amusing her witch. So, they had invented the butterfly hunt.
While Zhanna weeded a row in the vegetable garden, Dascha would try to catch three butterflies. She wasn’t allowed to just hit them and squash them. No, she had to catch them. That was much harder. It made her witch laugh, plus it was good exercise.
Dascha had almost recovered totally from the Familiar Trials. She still felt a little sore and a little tired. However, she could already feel her energy coming back and knew that she would be able to apply what she had learned to the studies that she and Zhanna were going to do.
It was a warm, beautiful day. The witch and her familiar were determined to enjoy it, chores or no chores.
A shadow over the sun caused Zhanna and Dascha to both look up quickly. It was hard to see was such a bright sunny backdrop but it looked like a large bird.
<
<
The big steppe eagle landed on his favorite perch, one of the large fence post. Dascha trotted over to him and stared up into the eagle’s eyes. <
Without a word, the eagle dropped a small bundle by Dascha’s feet. Zhanna had come up and greeted the eagle, inquiring if he needed anything. At his headshake of negation, the young witch knelt down by her familiar and picked up the bundle.
<
<
Her witch opened the bundle, and two pieces of parchment slipped out, hitting the ground before Zhanna could grab them. Zhanna picked them up and smoothed them out trying to see what they were.
A harsh gasp of breath told Dascha that something was not right.
<
Zhanna lifted a suddenly teary face to her familiar, straightening the pieces of parchment in shaking hands, the young witch said, <
<
<
Contributing Authors
T.S. Paul and I love to write together. Our brainstorming is hysterical and our joy in our stories is shared. We hope that you love the stories that we have created as much as we have enjoyed writing them!
Author Introduction – Taki Drake
The mixture of technology and magic is where my mind and heart live. In today's world, it mixes engineering and creativity. In the worlds of my mind, technology and magic live intertwined. I hope that you will find my stories interesting enough to be frequent visitors to where my heart beats.
I am continuing to write my stories of intertwined technology and magic. The challenges of that are fertile grounds for many story lines and series. Several of those planned for the next few months have been listed below. I am happily writing each of them, discovering new worlds, new situations and new challenges. The wonder for me is the number of readers that are enjoying my visions and tales.
Enjoy the stories in the emerging genre of techmage!
Please feel free to contact me via email at [email protected] or visit my blog or my Amazon page.
Unfettered Mage
We Are Not Prey
Fleet of the Mage - September 2017
Spatial Delivery - Late 2017
BattleMage Investigates
An Attitude Adjustment
Frozen Hands - October 2017
Maritime Madness - TBD
Badger Hole Bar
Thru the Badger Hole - Sept 2017
The Remembrance Wall - Sept 2017
Welcome to the Badger Hole Bar - Sept 2017
Passage Beyond - October 2017
Becoming Sephera
A Learning Experience
You Just Go On - Oct 2017
Life Rebuilt - Dec 2017
New Paths - TBD
Standard of Honor
In the World of the Federal Witch
Shade of Honor
Coven Codex -Sept 2017
A Confluence of Covens -TBD
Familiar Shadows
Familiar Trials - Fledgling
Familiar Trials - Expert - Oct 2017
Familiar Trials - Master - Dec 2017
Cookbooks
The Badger Hole Bar Food Cookbook
Fergus Favorites Cookbook
Marcella's Garden Cookbook
Marcella’s Summer Bounty Cookbook
Marcella’s Autumn Harvest - October 2017
Tasting Sampler
A Food Palate - Holiday Heartwarmers
Anthologies
The Expanding Universe: An Exploration of the Science Fiction Genre
The Tide: The Multiverse Wave
Inanna's Circle: Flight of Imagination - Thru the Darkness
Holiday Heartwarmers: An Anthology of Short Stories
Inanna's Circle: The Game Begins
Mysterious Hearts
Journal with a View
Journal with a View II - Oct 2017
CyberWar: Digital Battlefield
CyberWar: Byte Conflict - Sept 2017
Prime Fantasy
Author Introduction – TS Paul
I'm now into my second year as a published author. With over 25 works under my belt already my pace is relentless. Writing was never a goal of mine growing up. I really did fall into this accidentally. My wife and family knew of my love of books and urged me to try writing. It wasn't until an author i befriended gave me a short push off a long pier that i really gave it a go. And what a go that was!
Athena Lee and Agatha Blackmore have given way to over 50 short stories. I write a lot. The future is in books and I'm in it for the long haul. Keep your eyes peeled for new and exciting things coming from me this year. Don’t forget to check the Blog every week for a new Wilson or Fergus story.
I welcome comments and questions on my blog. Follow me on Facebook or visit my Amazon author page.
I'm excited, are you?
The Federal Witch
Born a Witch Drafted by the FBI! - Now Available in Audio!
Conjuring Quantico - Now Available in Audio!
Magical Probi - Now Available in Audio!
Special Agent in Charge - Now Available in Audio!
Witness Enchantment
Night of the Unicorn
Invisible Elder - TBD
Glood on the Moon - TBD
Child of Darkness - TBD
A Draft of Dragons - TBD
Cat’s Night Out, Tails from the Federal Witch - Audio Coming Soon
Serpent Con
Darkness Revealed - Coming Soon!
The Standard of Honor
Shade of Honor
Coven Codex -July 2017
A Confluence of Covens -TBD
Conflict of Commitments -TBD
Standard of Honor -TBD
The Mongo Files
The Case of the Jamaican Karma -TBD
The Case of the Lazy Magnolia - TBD
The Case of the Rugrat Exorcist -TBD
Cookbooks From the Federal Witch Universe
Marcella’s Garden Cookbook
Fergus Favorites Cookbook
Marce
lla’s Summer Bounty Cookbook
Marcella’s Autumn Harvest - Coming Soon!
Read and Eat Cookbooks
Badger Hole Bar Food Cookbook
Athena Lee Chronicles
The Forgotten Engineer
Engineering Murder
Ghost Ships of Terra
Revolutionary
Insurrection
Imperial Subversion
The Martian Inheritance - Audio Now Available
Infiltration
Prelude to War
War to the Knife
Ghosts of Noodlemass Past
Athena Lee Universe
Shades of Learning
Space Cadets - Coming Soon Late 2017
Short Story Collections
Wilson’s War
A Colony of CATTs
Box Sets
The Federal Witch: The Collected Works, Book 1
Chronicles of Athena Lee Book 1-3
Chronicles of Athena Lee Book 4-6
Chronicles of Athena Lee Book 7-9 plus the prequel
Athena Lee Chronicles (10 Book Series)
Standalone or tie-ins
The Tide: The Multiverse Wave
The Lost Pilot
Uncommon Life
Non-Fiction
Get that Sh@t off your Cover!: The so-called Miracle Man speaks out
Kutherian Gambit
Alpha Class. The Etheric Academy book 1
Alpha Class - Engineering. The Etheric Academy Book 2
The Etheric Academy (2 Book Series)
Alpha Class The Etheric Academy Book 3 - Coming soon
Anthologies
Phoenix Galactic
The Expanding Universe Book 2
Cupid’s Bow
Mysterious Hearts
Journal with a View: July - August - September
Non-Fiction
Get that Sh@t off your Cover!: The so-called Miracle Man speaks out
Study Guide and Timeline: The Athena Lee Chronicles
Author Notes - Taki Drake
Writing this book turned out to be far more than I had planned. The exploration of the partnership between familiar and witch or mage was far more than I had thought. The story carried me in its arms and took me on a journey of discovery.
The path is only started. I hope that you will enjoy the rest of the trip with me!
Heartfelt Acknowledgments
It is impossible to write in a vacuum. A writer’s universe is populated by people that enable them to turn their imaginations into the written form for others to visit. In my author universe, I am blessed to have some very special people. They are essential to my writing and to my soul.
To T. S. Paul - the most imaginative and creative person that I know - thank you for your friendship, our late night brainstorming and the myriad other ways that you decorate my world.
To Heather Paul - thank you for the greatness of heart that allows you to share your husband’s time and energy with so many people that benefit from his mentorship and friendship. And thanks for getting me back into knitting!!
To the incomparable Ds. You have enriched my life and my writing beyond all expectations. Thank you for the editing (developmental and line), the brainstorming, and the occasional kick in the back side! Most of all, I appreciate your friendship.
Finally, thank you to the Phoenix Prime collective. Without you all, my life would be far poorer. And the twilight of my life would be far darker. And without cookies!!
Taki
Snippet - Shade of Honor
The desolation was complete. It looked like God had reached out a hand and flattened the entire village. Building walls were toppled, roofs were broken, and the usual structure of their daily life had been totally destroyed. It would’ve been impossible to determine from the current scene that only a short number of hours before this it had been a village of over 4000 people. One teeming with the normal activity of a small village.
Zhanna stood with her hands balled into fists, staring around her. The sick feeling in her stomach was overwhelming. She didn’t know whether to fall to her knees, crying torrents of tears or to scream her rage to the heavens. Stuck between grief and anger, she was frozen.
How could have come to this?
The muted sound of soft sobbing filled her ears, and she turned to her left. Curled protectively around two small children, an older woman in the traditional head covering, or babushka, stared blankly at what remained of her home. It was Baba Marta. Zhanna knew that probably meant that the two crying children were Gregor and Anna, but she couldn’t see for sure. The sound of the children’s soft, frightened sobs told her both that they were alive and kicked off an unconscionable rage.
How could it have come to this?
Zhanna had seen other places where disasters had happened. There was always a bustle of people trying to rescue and repair. Men rushing around, caring stretchers, comforting their families. But all that she could hear and all that she could see was a frozen aftermath of a horrible disaster. There was no bustle, no rescue. No men.
There was the main problem. There were no men in the village right now. They were all out on contract. Without the men’s mercenary work, there would be no food, no shelter. The entire village was dependent on having the best, and the brightest spend huge amounts of time away from their families.
Her dark thoughts were rudely interrupted.
<> sniped through her thoughts.
She looked down into the brilliant eyes of her cat, her familiar. Dascha stared back at Zhanna with a wicked glint in her eye. The cat was gorgeous. The deepest gray coloring and the black undertone of the fur seem to glow in the sunlight. Almost too dark for a Russian Blue, Dascha looked more like a Russian Black. Looking at her cat, Zhanna felt the blast of astonishment that occurred whenever she thought of how she had ended up with such a beautiful, powerful, impressive familiar.
She must’ve stared too long at the cat because the next thing she knew her ankle was pricked by a set of very sharp claws.
<
<>
<
Zhanna drew a deep breath and straightened her spine. Forcing a calm look unto her face, the young woman walked toward the older one who was still clutching the crying children, calling out as she walked, “Just a moment, let’s see how you’re doing…”
<<<>>>
It had been a totally devastating time. Four days of unrelenting labor to take bodies out of the rubble, patch up the wounded, and salvage what they could of belongings. Zhanna was exhausted, and the remainder of the people in the town weren’t any better. Some of them were grieving the loss of friends and family, while others were coping with the destruction of their homes. The grief and the tiredness cast a dark cloud over the huddled people, one that was almost visible.
No one knew what had kicked off the twisters that had come through the small village. Appearing like evil fingers of fate, five of the roiling black clouds had zeroed in from the far side of the fields, ripping through the crops and colliding in the center of the town.
One of the observers had mentioned that it looked like a choreographed dance of death. The green cast of the clouds and the way that the winds twisted people into pretzels of tortured bodies and reduced sturdy buildings into a collection of splinters made Zhanna even less inclined to live anywhere where twisters were a common phenomenon.
Everyone was working tired. There just wasn’t enough food in the village to take care of everyone, so many of the healthier people were skipping their meals or splitting them. The children and the old people were the ones that everyone needed to watch. They were the ones most
fragile in the face of injury or shock. Zhanna knew that her elderly grandmother would be especially vulnerable and resolved to somehow get her to eat. It would be an argument that she wasn’t willing to lose. Baba would eat!
<
The mental tone of Dascha, Zhanna’s familiar, worried the witch. Granted, the cat had only been her familiar for less than six months, and they were still learning about each other every day. However, Dascha’s normally snarky, semi-humorous tone was totally missing. The cat sounded serious, deadly serious.
Groaning audibly, Zhanna stood up and stretched her back. The other three people in her small work group looked up at her movement, most of them too tired to do more than look. However, obedient to the “suggestions” of Dascha, Zhanna simply said, “I think I’ll take a last turn around the area just in case something got overlooked.”
Weary nods were the only thing that she got in response, so she thought that perhaps she had made the transition unobtrusively.
She walked toward the directional line of the psychic bond feeling in her head. The one that said, “Dascha is fine, Dascha fine” as a background mantra in her brain. The black cat was waiting for her in the semi-twilight just around the corner. The plush coat of the Russian blue was so dark that the subtle mixture of dark gray and black provided wonderful camouflage in the fading light of the evening.
Zhanna asked quietly, “Dascha, what is wrong?”
Dascha replied, <
<
<
Dascha moved to one side, allowing Zhanna to see what her body had been blocking. It was a small embroidered bag, about 4 inches tall and tied with brightly colored yarn. Even being within a few feet of the charm bag made Zhanna uncomfortable. It was like a cloud holding the stench of rotten blood in place. It made her skin crawl and her breath tight in her throat. A feeling of overwhelming stress and strain seem to press down on her from every direction. Zhanna shuddered involuntarily.