The Tattered Lands
Humanity thinks itself safe. For over thirty years, ten mystical pylons have protected them from the plague of the evil, tattered lands. Now, one pylon has gone out.
Alchemist Vandra Singh knows an alliance with the elusive, xenophobic seelie may be humanity’s only hope if the other pylons fail. But among the long-lived seelie, only Lilani, young daughter of the empress, can forgive humanity’s ancient betrayals.
As Vandra and Lilani strive to make peace, they slowly fall in love. With mistrust and murder surrounding them, only their faith in each other can keep their plan to save the world from falling apart. And the tattered lands are waiting. One pylon down. Nine to go.
What Reviewers Say About Barbara Ann Wright’s Work
The Pyradisté Adventures
“…A healthy dose of a very creative, yet believable, world into which the reader will step to find enjoyment and heart-thumping action. It’s a fiendishly delightful tale.”—Lambda Literary
“Barbara Ann Wright is a master when it comes to crafting a solid and entertaining fantasy novel. …The world of lesbian literature has a small handful of high-quality fantasy authors, and Barbara Ann Wright is well on her way to joining the likes of Jane Fletcher, Cate Culpepper, and Andi Marquette. …Lovers of the fantasy and futuristic genre will likely adore this novel, and adventurous romance fans should find plenty to sink their teeth into.”—The Rainbow Reader
“The Pyramid Waltz has had me smiling for three days. …I also haven’t actually read…a world that is entirely unfazed by homosexuality or female power before. I think I love it. I’m just delighted this book exists. …If you enjoyed The Pyramid Waltz, For Want of a Fiend is the perfect next step…you’d be embarking on a joyous, funny, sweet and madcap ride around very dark things lovingly told, with characters who will stay with you for months after.”—The Lesbrary
“This book will keep you turning the page to find out the answers. …Fans of the fantasy genre will really enjoy this installment of the story. We can’t wait for the next book.”—Curve Magazine
“There is only one other time in my life I have uncontrollably shouted out in cheer while reading a book. [A Kingdom Lost] made the second. …Over the course of these three books all the characters have blossomed and developed so eloquently. …I simply just thought this whole novel was brilliant.”—The Lesbian Review
Thrall: Beyond Gold and Glory
“Once more Barbara has outdone herself in her penmanship. I cannot sing enough praises. A little Vikings, a dash of The Witcher, peppered with The Game of Thrones, and a pinch of Lord of The Rings. Mesmerizing. …I was ecstatic to read this book. It did not disappoint. Barbara pours life into her characters with sarcasm, wit and surreal imagery, they leap from the page and stand before you in all their glory. I am left satisfied and starving for more, the clashing of swords, whistling of arrows still ringing in my ears.”—Lunar Rainbow Reviews
“In their adventures, the women must wrestle with issues of freedom, loyalty, and justice. The characters were likable, the issues complex, and the battles were exciting. I really enjoyed this book and I highly recommend it.”—All Our Worlds: Diverse Fantastic Fiction
“This was the first Barbara Ann Wright novel I’ve read, and I doubt it will be the last. Her dialogue was concise and natural, and she built a fantastical world that I easily imagined from one scene to the next. Lovers of Vikings, monsters and magic won’t be disappointed by this one.”—Curve Magazine
Paladins of the Storm Lord
“This was a truly enjoyable read…I would definitely pick up the next book. …The mad dash at the end kept me riveted. I would definitely recommend this book for anyone who has a love of sci-fi. …An intricate…novel one that can be appreciated at many levels, adventurous sci fi or one that is politically motivated with a very astute look at present day human behavior. …There are many levels to this extraordinary and well written book…overall a fascinating and intriguing book.”—Inked Rainbow Reads
“I loved this. …The world that the Paladins inhabited was fascinating…didn’t want to put this down until I knew what happened. I’ll be looking for more of Barbara Ann Wright’s books.”—Lesbian Romance Reviews
“Paladins of the Storm Lord by Barbara Ann Wright was like an orchestra with all of its pieces creating a symphony. I really truly loved it. I love the intricacy and wide variety of character types…I just loved practically every character! …Of course my fellow adventure lovers should read Paladins of the Storm Lord!”—The Lesbian Review
Coils
“…Greek myths, gods and monsters and a trip to the Underworld. Sign me up. …This one springs straight into action…a good start, great Greek myth action and a late blooming romance that flowers in the end…”—Dear Author
“A unique take on the Greek gods and the afterlife make this a memorable book. The story is fun with just the right amount of camp. Medusa is a hot, if unexpected, love interest. …A truly unexpected ending has us hoping for more stories from this world.”—RT Book Reviews
“The gods and monsters of ancient Greek mythology are living, breathing entities, something Cressida didn’t expect and is amazed as well as terrified to discover. …Cressida soon realizes being in the underworld is no different than being among the living. The heart still feels and love can bloom, even in the world of Myth. …The characters are well developed and their wit will elicit more than a few chuckles. A joy to read.”—Lunar Rainbow Reviewz
House of Fate
“…Fast, fun…entertaining. …House of Fate delivers on adventure.”—Tor.com
The Tattered Lands
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The Tattered Lands
© 2018 By Barbara Ann Wright. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13:978-1-63555-109-9
This Electronic Book is published by
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First Edition: September 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
By the Author
The Pyradisté Adventures
The Pyramid Waltz
For Want of a Fiend
A Kingdom Lost
The Fiend Queen
Thrall: Beyond Gold and Glory
The Godfall Novels
Paladins of the Storm Lord
Widows of the Sun-Moon
Children of the Healer
Coils
House of Fate
The Tattered Lands
Acknowledgments
A big thank you to my readers, Angela, Deb, Erin, Matt, Natsu, Pattie, Sarah, and Trakena. You’ve fed my pets and given me a place to stay whenever needed. You’re irreplaceable.
A continuing thank you to Bold Strokes Books: Radclyffe, Cindy, Sandy, Ruth, Stacia, and Sheri. You never fail to wow me.
I love you, Mom.
Dedication
For Erin
Chapter One
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Time seemed to slow as Vandra poured grains of sand into a heated crucible. A bead of sweat slid down her temple, and she hissed, moving her head slightly so when the drop landed, it struck the scarred mahogany table rather than the slowly combining mix of components. If one drop landed in the unstable mixture, it would throw off her entire formula.
Students gathered around her, and though they had been cautioned to be still, she heard gasps. Even the other professors who gathered near the edge of the crowd mumbled to themselves and were quickly shushed by their neighbors.
As Vandra set the sand aside, her sister, Fieta, dabbed her brow with a cool cloth and whispered, “Sorry.”
Vandra nodded, resisting the urge to glare. Fieta had only volunteered to assist because their brother, Fieta’s twin, was busy, and Vandra needed someone she trusted. Fieta wasn’t an alchemist, let alone a professional forehead wiper, but Vandra was certain she’d stressed how important it was to keep the mixture untainted.
But Fieta wasn’t as good at paying attention as her brother.
Vandra added a few flecks of lead, the last part of her original formula. Then all that was left was to stand back and wait. The whole room exhaled. Fieta gave Vandra another swipe with the towel and winked. Nearly ten years younger than Vandra, she was at least a foot taller, and her athletic build put the academics in the room to shame, though her dark hair and dusky skin blended in with most. She wore her dark gray City Watch uniform, the reason everyone peered at her as if wondering why she was there. Maybe they thought that if the experiment got out of hand, Fieta would beat it into submission.
“Better mind the pot,” Fieta said softly.
Vandra sighed and stared at her experimental mixture. It had gone like clockwork this time, just as when she’d first performed it. And the five times afterward. The only difference being: the first time, it had worked.
It would work this time. It had to. The crucible was the same. The candle was from the exact same candle maker, made from the same sort of wax, and even made at the same time of day, if the maker was to be believed. Her measurements were exact. The tools were exact. After five minutes ticked down, she should have a crucible full of syndrium, the most sought after, most unique element in the land, made from a handful of common items. She’d done it once. There was no reason she couldn’t do it again.
As before, visions danced in her head. All the machines in the city of Parbeh and in the kingdom of Citran—the last of the five human kingdoms—ran on syndrium. With a surplus, they could create machines to unclog the overworked sewers, to dig more wells for the swollen population, like the thousands of refugees whose lands had been claimed by the slow tide of corruption known as the tattered lands.
Of course, the first time Vandra had done this experiment, she hadn’t been thinking such grand thoughts. It was only one formula in the midst of dozens, but she’d hit it right. No one had been more surprised than her when after five minutes, the crucible full of nothing had been transformed into pure syndrium. Since she’d been the only person there, many believed she’d made up the story, yet they couldn’t prove where she’d gotten a stray pot of syndrium.
Now they’d all see. Now no one would have to worry that the syndrium-powered pylons that guarded their borders would fail. Humanity would be safe from the tattered lands forever. She crossed her fingers and prayed to every god, large and small, that it be so. Her mama would have reminded her that she didn’t want the attention of larger gods anyway, just in case they were of a mind to remember her when they wanted something in return.
Vandra glanced at her hourglass. The five minutes were nearly up. A few people whispered from the back of the room. After her second failure, she’d shooed everyone out, but only after her colleagues had made certain she had no syndrium on hand. But the people didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. She had to trust the formula.
There were only a few grains of sand left. The smoke from the crucible would take on a bluish hue. There! Right on schedule. And then…
The last of the grains ran out. Vandra leaned forward, brushing away the smoke. It had to have worked this time. She made herself believe, made herself smile.
More gasps from the crowd. Professor Lisander whispered loudly, “I loaned her that crucible, you know.”
Beneath the smoke, Vandra spied a glimmer, not the silvery-blue glow of syndrium, but a speck of one of the other metals catching the light. It had failed. Again. Vandra was still smiling, but she no longer had control of her face. What would happen if she yelled that it had worked then hustled everyone out of the room?
Her audience was waiting. As she stared at them, her stomach sinking and panic gripping her guts, their smiles faded one by one. At the front, Lisander frowned hard, lending more lines to his pale skin. He was always complaining that Parbeh’s laboratories were not as fantastic as his old university in the north, but the tattered lands had taken that. Vandra wanted to snap at him now that if he thought he could do better in the tattered lands, he should go. Then the airborne malice could twist him into something unrecognizable, which would probably be an improvement.
But she had to remain calm, confident, polite. “Perhaps next time—”
The crowd began to disperse. A few professors smirked or tittered, but Fieta glared at them until they fled. Most of the students gave her pitying looks. Lisander glared at the crucible he’d lent her, then stormed from the room, creating a gap in the retreating crowd. It stayed parted when Headmistress Chani appeared.
If Vandra’s heart sank any further, it would lodge in her heels.
“No luck?” Chani asked, giving the crucible a quick glance. “Bit of a letdown, eh, Singh?”
Vandra had no choice but to nod. “Yes, Headmistress.”
“And after all that hoopla? Ah well, better to know now rather than when someone is really depending on the outcome.”
Vandra wanted to say, “Besides me and my career,” but she bit her lip.
Fieta turned her threatening stare in the headmistress’s direction. She never took shit off anyone unless they were wearing a uniform. Vandra poked her hard in the leg.
“I’m sure, Headmistress,” Vandra said, “it must be a miscalculation in the—”
“Course it is, course it is.” Chani’s eyes held the same false sympathy as when a student’s parents insisted that their child really was a hard worker and only needed a little encouragement to pull themselves up from a failing grade. She wasn’t a bad person, but she’d been an administrator far longer than she’d been an alchemist. “Better luck next time, eh?” She turned to go, then swiveled as she got to the door, an old tactic that allowed her to have the last word. “Maybe next time, do a test before you invite everyone, eh?”
Vandra wanted to say she’d conducted many tests, but the headmistress was already gone.
Fieta rolled her eyes. “Uppity bunch of bookworms.” She clapped Vandra on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out.”
Vandra slumped against the table and put her head in her hands. Where had she gone wrong? Maybe one of the metals hadn’t been as pure as she’d thought. Maybe she’d been off in her original calculations slightly, and now she stuck to them too rigidly. Maybe it was the sand that she’d gone through grain by gods-cursed grain! She wanted to sweep the whole thing off the table and hope she got lucky enough to burn the building down.
Fieta was still oozing false cheer. “Pietyr’s probably done with his rounds by now. Come have lunch with us.”
Vandra shook her head. Their brother would also try to cheer Vandra up, and she wasn’t in the mood. She loved her family, but they didn’t understand.
“You’re going to stay here beating yourself up instead?” Fieta asked.
Vandra nodded. “Until I solve this thing or pass out. Whichever comes first.”
Fieta kissed her temple then gave her a light shove to even out all the caring and feeling. “I’ll be back later.”
Vandra nodded again but didn’t watch a
s Fieta left. Without people, her black thoughts poured in to fill the empty room. She’d created syndrium just after graduation, when the world seemed to stretch before her in endless waves of possibility. Her successful experiment had gotten her an appearance before the assembly. The head assemblyperson had told her that the five monarchs were proud. Everyone had been waiting, breathless, to see what she might do next as the pride of Parbeh.
People had laughed off her first failure. It was proof that no one was immune to slipups; it made her relatable, likeable. She hadn’t known until then that she needed a colossal screwup to be more likeable, but she’d tried to laugh it off.
Now, six failures later, she was either a laughingstock or a subject of pity. When she introduced herself, people’s faces scrunched up as if trying to remember where they’d heard her name, then they’d say things like, “What a shame.”
After hearing that so many times, Vandra thought she’d be used to it. To her surprise, it hurt. Every. Single. Time.
“Give up or wake up.” She went back to her desk and pulled out her books on syndrium again, one of which she’d written as her dissertation. Many people now used it as the final word on syndrium. If not for her original success with her formula, her dissertation would have been her legacy. Only alchemists would have known about her, but she could have lived with that.
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