Laura Anne Gilman - Tales of the Cosa Nostradamus

by Laura Anne Gilman

  “Susan.”

  I moved across the room and stood behind her. My reflection in her mirror was from hip to shoulder, and I paused a moment to consider how that would look to her. I’m in damn good shape, in the prime of my life, and if you don’t mind some pelt I’m told I’m pretty damn cute. Didn’t matter. This wasn’t about sex or even physical attraction, but seduction. The gnomes lured her down; I had to lure her back.

  My dusting had to be stronger than theirs.

  I placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly enough to be a caress, firmly enough to be thrilling to a young girl who didn’t know the first thing about men but was old enough to be intrigued. Carefully, carefully. I relaxed the tight hold I normally kept on my instincts, leaned forward so that my face came into view in the mirror, close to her ear, and whispered again, “Susan.”

  Susan’s gaze flicked up, instinctively, against her will, and met my gaze in the mirror. My narrow face seemed leaner, my cheekbones more prominent, my eyes more gold than brown, and the horns almost shimmered white in the silvered mirror.

  There was no way I could have passed for human, not in any crowd.

  Susan’s pink-painted mouth fell open a little, showing teeth that had been a gift from the orthodontist, and her gaze lifted and zeroed right in on my horns. Typical.

  “You think that you know what’s fantastic in this world?” I asked her, still keeping my voice low, my touch gentle. “You think it’s down here, in these caves and stone and steel?”

  She swallowed hard, but didn’t move, the eye pencil still in her hand.

  “Up above, my sweet. Up above, in the green grass and the flowering trees. The sun warms our bones and we dance until we are exhausted and then we sprawl in the shade and feast until we sleep, and then we rise and do it again.”

  Her breathing sped up, just a bit, and I moved my hand down from her shoulder to her upper arm. “We eat fresh fruit and cheese, and wash it down with wine, and shout into the winds…. We are free. None of this enclosed space, this lack of fresh air or blue sky. Gnomes look down, they see only the dirt. Nothing grows here. Come with me, sweet Susan. Come see the world in all its glory. See the magic that surrounds us, every day.”

  Everything I was telling her was true. Full-blooded fauns were hedonistic, careless, loving sorts. Useless in any practical manner, but a lot of fun to hang out with, and they simply adored every tingle of magic they could get their hooves on.

  Pity they were also callous bastards.

  “I am promised here…” she managed. Her eyes were very wide now, like she’d ingested a full dose of belladona, and she hadn’t blinked once while I was talking, then her lids fluttered three, four, six times in a row, trying to recover.

  “Promises are made to be broken,” I told her. “Otherwise there wouldn‘t be half as much art or music in the world.”

  That went over her head a bit—ah, the teen years, when you think everything’s forever, and their hearts will never be broken.

  I was about to educate her.

  I knelt down and rested my chin lightly on her shoulder, still keeping my touch gentle. Spooking her now would be catastrophic. “You’ve only seen one side of fairyland,” I told her. My voice was brown sugar and warm breezes, soft grass and the smell of apple blossoms and honey. “Come see more of it. Griffins and dryads are in Central Park, my sweet, and dragons live in the hills of Pennsylvania. Piskies flitter in the Botanical Gardens, and kelpies swim off the Seaport‘s piers….”

  All true. Of course, the dryads didn’t mingle much, and the dragons didn’t mingle at all, kelpies were nasty-tempered, smelly beasts…and the less said about piskies the better.

  “So much to see…so many creatures to dance with. How can you let yourself waste away here, living in this single room like a drudge when you should be a princess….”

  Her eyes sparkled at that, and I almost had her. My hand rose up her arm again, stroking her hair. “Sunlight suits you, my sweet,” I said, leaning in for the kill. “Come with me, and I will show you the true wonders of the fairy world.”

  I sounded like a B-grade Hollywood movie extra, but it was working. Her eyes started to glaze over, and her mouth curved up in a dreamy smile, even as I threaded my fingers in her hair, and tugged her head back just a little, as though to deliver a first kiss.

  Her head lolled to the side, her body utterly relaxed as my dusting took effect, and I scooped her into my arms without hesitation.

  It was a crap way to rescue a princess, but I wasn’t exactly prince charming.

  oOo

  By the time Miss Susan recovered from the hormonal overload enough to protest, she was back in her parents’ care, and I was on my way back to the office. They had been all sorts of overjoyed not only to see her, but to have assurances that she was unmolested. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that she wasn’t entirely untouched. All I did was remove her from the scene—and I’d dusted her myself to do it

  Yeah, I had good intentions and good results, but she had the taste now sexual, the rush magic could bring, and odds were pretty damn good that she’d disappear again, chasing after another hit. They’d lost her already; they just didn’t know it yet.

  All I could hope was that the images I’d used in my dusting would keep her aboveground this time. There were other humans who associated with those breeds… they’d be able to keep an eye out for her, teach her the ropes. Keep her out of too much trouble. And maybe by then, she’d have grown up enough to handle it.

  The fatae weren’t bad company, as it went. It was just better to accept what you were, before you went chasing something else.

  That thought kept me company as I walked up the steps to my office, and let myself in the door, looking around the space with a sense of relief. Home. Wood furniture, plants, light…they were all a steady, solid reminder. I was human.

  But my little stunt reminded me that I was also faun. My father’s son, the product of my magical genes. A real charming sonofabitch when it came to women.

  I didn’t like it, I didn’t let it out very often…but it was me, as much as current—and art—was Lee. Me, who I am. What I am.

  I sat down in my chair, and reached for the bottle in my desk. Not to forget; I never drank to forget. I drank to remember. I drank so that the pleasant warmth of the booze, the heady shot of inebriation, would remind me that I wasn’t entirely fatae. My human half was stronger. I wasn’t my father.

  Some days, I needed the reminder.

  BONUS FEATURES

  Excerpts from A Handbook for Working with Talents, a handbook

  (Didier, Sergei. d.y.m.k. press, 1st edition, 2014)

  "Benjamin Franklin: Genius, Talent and Troublemaker"

  In history class we learn about Ben Franklin. Bon vivant, man of letters and science, inquiring mind.

  They don't tell you that he was also one of the most influential Talents of his time. Or that he is credited — blamed, by some — for the formation of the first Mages' Council in America.1 Knowing this, one looks at the experiments he performed with weather, including the creation of a lightning rod to draw down electricity in order to experiment on it, and the now legendary kite-and-key story, with a slightly different eye.2

  Before his work (and similar experiments being done in France and elsewhere during the same time period), any understanding of what lightning was—and any possible connection to electricity—was minimal, at best. The long-held religious interpretations were that lightning was the wrath of (a) god coming down upon the sinning or unworthy. In fact, science, that rational study, was uncertain about the origins and structure of electricity itself: although a fascination with it dates back to the ancient Greeks, any kind of detailed observation had of necessity been confined to the results rather than a quantifiable, scientific breakdown of its origin or cause.

  In 1746, that changes drastically, when an object known as a Leyden Jar (so named for the University of Leyden, where its creator, Pieter van Musschenbroek, studied) becam
e all the craze in Europe, for its ability to collect static electricity in a glass jar, and use it to create shocks in those who touched it. The connection between this lightning in a bottle and the lightning which appeared in the sky with similar but much more impressive results was obvious. But how to test any theories on such a powerful force of nature?

  One of the popular scientific theories at the time was that electricity formed out of two opposing forces—that those forces "fought," and out of that fighting created energy. Franklin's experiment proved—to the public world—that electricity instead was comprised of a "common element." However, in private notes taken by his son and student, who was also present during the experiments, Franklin comments on the "second electricised element" encountered during correct atmospheric conditions, and which could be felt only within his body, and not register in any of the apparatus he had set up for measurement.

  That element, the son's notes continued, sent such a surge of Power through his body "as was to make him feel rejoiced with the Power as was our gift and our joy, and Empowered to do as he might wish, without thought of the cost." His work thus confirmed what some magic-users had long-suspected: that the ability within them was woken not by spells or sacrifices, but through the infusion of a positive charge into receptive cells within their body that transform current into power.

  More, his work confirmed the nature of that charge, and how one might intentionally channel it.

  However, because of the secretive and close-mouthed nature of Talents, arising from the waves of persecution they had endured over the generations, this information was at first not widely disseminated. Instead, it was passed, as was much of their knowledge, from mentor to student, one transference at a time.

  Fortunately, Franklin's indoctrination as a Talent was not enough to hold back his admiration for the democratic ideal, and—after a rather strident argument with his son and several other Talents in the community—he decided to offer his knowledge to the Talented community as a whole, leading to a radical change in how magic—now called current—was viewed and used.

  (from from A Handbook for Working with Talents, 1st edition, by Sergei Didier. dymk press, 2012)

  1 (The work-journal of John Ebeneezer, from the private collection of Wren Valere. Note in margin of bell lightning lecture from March 1994. Seconded in discussion with Council members, unverified.)

  2. (The Papers of Benjamin Franklin. Edited by Leonard W. Labaree. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1962. Letter from Benjamin Franklin to Peter Collinson dated September 1753.)

  Mentorships and Journeyman Practices in the Cosa

  Magic, as a force by or through which events or actions are influenced, has been around for as long as humanity, and doubtless before1. As a force, or energy, or however it is defined by both users and observers, there is no doubt that the energy which enables magic is a part of the primal universe.

  Much has been made in the literary media of how magicians are trained, from the ‘coven’ theories of traditional witchcraft, to the master-apprentice system, and the ‘wizarding school’ stories popularized most recently by LeGuin, Wynne-Jones, Bradley and Rowling. And, of course, the historical precedence of the druids and other religious and semi-religious orders, which seemed magical as much as mystical in their knowledge to outsiders.

  It is not known precisely when the first realization of magic–so-called ‘Talent’– as a manageable, trainable skillset came into being; in the days before the formal creation of the Cosa Nostradamus, in what is referred to alternately as the “Old Time,” or the “Time Before,” a person with talent often had no idea who or what they were, and stumbled up on their abilities purely by happenstance. This led to a number of what were referred to, dismissively, as ‘hedge-witches’ and ‘gutter-mages’–individuals who often did as much harm as help with their magics. They did not understand what they did, or how to harness it.

  It did not help that, at that time, magic was considered a supernatural phenomena, often influenced by gods or devils, demons or other creatures we now know to be part of the fatae or magical community, but not otherwise related to magic (exception: demon, e.g.). As such, practitioners were viewed alternately with fear or suspicion, and only rarely, when tied to the local religious beliefs, were they held to any esteem. In many cases, those who showed any ability at all were immediately co-opted into the local religious structures either as priests or handmaidens, but just as often as suitable sacrifices for a jealous or hungry God–said God possibly being another, pre-established magic user. This is specifically hypothesized in the writings of Professor Archibald Leonard, Chair of Antiquities at the H. Jones Museum of Artifacts and Research, specifically referring to the pre-Incan civilizations of Peru near the Pachacamac temple complex outside of Lima.

  By the time the Cosa was first mentioned in print2, it was with reference to the secretive nature of their selection and training, with specific mention of the one-on-one nature of that training: “And so did one take on another, with no recourse to the child’s parents, and so did that child disappear from the world of God’s works and become a familiar of the dire practices hidden behind such curtains as to be invisible to God Almighty and the very gift of Redemption.”

  By that we may assume that the mentorship practices of the Cosa were established early on in its history, with the associated ‘family lines’ being drawn in the same way. A Talent would not formally identify his or herself as being “Jane Doe, daughter of Susan and Michael Doe from Montana” but “Jane, student of John, student of Joseph, student of Julia, of the line of Jacob from Montreal...”

  The Cosa Nostradamus FAQ

  What is the Cosa Nostradamus?

  It's the name given to the entire magical community–Human Talent and non-human 'fatae.' Also the all-encompassing name for the books set in the world of the Cosa Nostradamus.

  What are fatae?

  The fatae are any creatures of supernatural origins, specifically those who are made of or utilize magic in some way. Most people assume it simply refers to the Fates, but the term "Fairies" (fate or fata) comes from the Latin fatae—which in the wider use of the word simply meant supernatural creatures with nature-associations. The Fates (in English) were merely one aspect of that supernatural world (and they were actually "Moiare" in Greek, and "Parcae" in Roman mythology, I think). The Italian tradition of the fairy tale is one of the oldest, and had the added advantage (to me) of not being Celtic. I wanted to stay away from the Anglo interpretations of mythology, since the point of the Cosa Nostradamus is that it is worldwide, and ancient.

  How many books are in the Cosa Nostradamus universe, and do you need to read them in order?

  There are currently six books IN THE “Retrievers” series (STAYING DEAD, CURSE THE DARK, BRING IT ON, BURNING BRIDGES, FREE FALL and BLOOD FROM STONE), all featuring Wren Valere, the Retriever, and her cohorts Sergei Didier and the demon P.B.

  The PSI novels , featuring paranormal investigator Bonnie Torres, will begin in May 2010 with HARD MAGIC, and continue through PACK OF LIES and TRICKS OF THE TRADE.

  It's not necessary to read the books in order, but I generally suggest that you do, in order to get a real sense for the growth of the characters. Also, I do refer back to events in previous books. You can start with either series, once they're out; they are independent of each other. The short stories can be read in any order.

  Short stories?

  What you have in your hot little e-reading hands, right now. And yes, there probably will be more.

  Are there any vampires in the Cosa Nostradamus?

  No. I reserve the right to have something exist on blood, but there are no vampires as such. Why? Because there aren't. There are lycanthropes, though.

  How do you feel about fanfiction?

  I think that fanfiction is a wonderful thing, an expression of affection on the part of the fan-writer. I also think that anyone writing Cosa fan fiction should never show it to me, or tell me about it, for various technical
and legal reasons. Also? Being demon, PB doesn't have a sex drive. Sorry, folks.

  Is there ever going to be a plush version of P.B.?

  As soon as I find someone who can make me a reasonable prototype, you betcha!

  Questions for the FAQ? Email me at LAG@lauraannegilman.net

  ###

  About the Author:

  Laura Anne Gilman is the author of the Cosa Nostradamus books for Luna (the “Retrievers” and “Paranormal Scene Investigations” urban fantasy series), and critically-acclaimed The Vineart War trilogy from Pocket ( the first book, FLESH AND FIRE, was short-listed as a “Best Book of 2009” from Library Journal and nominated for a Nebula Award for Best Novel). She is also a member of the on-line writers’ consortium BookVew Café, and continues to write and sell short fiction. She also writes paranormal romances as Anna Leonard.

  Connect Online:

  Official website: http://www.lauraannegilman.net

  Twitter: @LAGilman

  Livejournal: http://suricattus.livejournal.com/

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lauraanne.gilman

  1 The work-journal of John Ebeneezer, from the private collection of Wren Valere; pp 34-35, section 7a, “historical antecedents of magic and the Older Beings of Power.”

  2 (Of Magic and Magic-Users”, from the Wilibrod Collection in Utrecht. Vatican Library, Private Collection (Restricted), date and author unknown but probably ca. 500 A.D.