by M. M. Perry
“So anyway, the dragons started chasing all the gods. Like, just running them down. Every time they scared one back to the River, there was this big boom. It was like fireworks. Everyone would cheer each time they heard it. And man, you should have seen Driscol. He was amazing. I’ve never seen anyone fight a god hand to hand. He kept the god busy while we cleared out a whole sector of town. If it hadn’t been for him,” Nat trailed off.
“To Driscol. May we meet him again someday,” Cass said raising her cup as high as she could.
“What happened to…” Viola stammered, unsure if she should ask, “Selina? Is she?”
“Partying with all the djinn, I imagine,” Cass said. “She may very well have been as old as them, hard to say. But if they are any indication, that’s what happened to her as well. Don’t be sad for her. She was ready to go. And Driscol is with her.”
Viola raised her glass and they all followed the gesture. They drank in silence until Patch spoke up.
“The nymphs, everyone can see them now, not just the satyr,” Patch said. “It’s caused a bit of an issue. People trying to find a nymph to marry. We’ve all had to go back into hiding again. So I guess in a way, nothing changed.”
“The dragons, too. No one has seen one since. I can’t even get Anya to admit there ever were any. Every message I send to her gets a return of, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ It’s kind of sad. I was hoping once everything was done I could study them,” Viola said.
“You could write a book anyway, it’d be more than most people knew,” Nat said.
“Yeah, that’s true.”
They ate in silence for a while. Callan broke it with a loud throat clearing.
“I hear you two are going sailing. Bought a great big boat with all that money I gave you. That true?” he asked looking at Cass and Gunnarr.
“I’ve been a lot of places, done a lot of things. I haven’t spent much time at sea,” Cass said taking a sip of her ale. “And Gunnarr says there are some family members I have to meet.”
Gunnarr gave Cass a little squeeze as she said it.
“Well, you’ll keep in touch, right?” Viola asked.
“Got a hold full of teetons says we will,” Cass said.
Melody stood up.
“Well, I think we better let you two get some rest. Good night, everyone.”
“Yes,” Callan said stretching. He stood and picked up a great fur lined cloak and slung it over his shoulder. “Oh, yes, I have this for you,” Callan said fumbling in his cloak for something. He handed a leather tube to Cass. She took it and popped the top off. Inside was the king’s treasury seal. “You can keep that. No need to return it. I had it made just for you. I don’t want you ever having to worry about paying for anything again. Least I can do.”
Cass looked at the seal and smiled.
“Thank you, Callan. Now I can buy that castle I’ve always wanted.”
“Now wait a minute,” Callan began before he noticed Cass’ grin. “Okay, I’ll go now.”
“We should go, too,” Viola said standing up with Julia. “I’ve got a hundred things to do tomorrow.”
Viola walked over and kissed Cass on the cheek.
“Should we… have a talk before you go,” Viola said quietly.
“Am I old and grey already?” Cass chuckled.
Viola picked up her friend’s hand tenderly, holding it still under the slight tremors that were always there now.
“Do you think you can wait?”
Cass squeezed Viola’s hand. Her grip was not what it used to be, but she could still hold a friend’s hand well enough.
“If I don’t make it, I’m sure the blue guy will make sure to update me when I see him again. And, I think I might have guessed most of the secret. The little details I missed, I’m not too concerned about. I know the important stuff.”
Viola kissed Cass’ cheek again.
“Take care, friend.” She breathed before leaving with a small wave.
Patch stood and straightened his tunic. He nodded as he locked eyes with Cass, saying nothing aloud, but he was understood nonetheless. Then he turned and left. Nat, Gunnarr and Cass were the only ones left at the table.
“I don’t want to leave,” Nat said suddenly, fighting back tears, feeling like he was the teenage boy all over again. “I don’t want to adventure alone. It’s just not the same.”
“It’s a big boat,” Gunnarr said leaning back.
“Really?” Nat said his face lit up.
“Why not. I could use a first mate.”
Nat looked from Gunnarr to Cass and grinned.
“We leaving tomorrow morning?”
“Why wait,” said Cass downing the rest of her ale, “Let’s go now.”
Now, I know you may be wondering. Who am I, this rascal who misleads you every time? Surely not a god, for they are all dead. Surely.
About the Author
I've been storying ever since I can remember. Storying is what I called it when I was eight and my mom asked me what I was doing with these two sticks in my hands. She caught me shaking them while talking. In my mind, they weren't sticks, they were the characters in my story. It was a habit of mine to escape into these stories I made up. I did it whenever things seemed too boring. You should hear my story involving broccoli.
Now, of course, I write these stories down. The idea of being a writer was always abstract to me. My English teacher in high school encouraged me to explore it after I turned in the "day I was born" assignment in a folder labeled "Top Secret." The whole paper was written from the perspective of an FBI agent doing deep background research into her subject, which was me of course. In college, I decided to dabble with the idea of writing. I took several creative writing courses and one of my majors was English. I got a lot of positive feedback from that, but still, the concept of writing was something I was scared to pursue. What if I really sucked at it? I preferred to preserve my dreams intact and got a practical job as a teen librarian. I was very happy with my job, but somewhere along the line, my writing bug took over. One long weekend I sat down at the computer and wrote for two days nonstop. The first book I ever wrote was finished. And, side note, will probably never see the light of day because I really had no clue what I was doing.
After several more years, and a move to a new city, I finally sat down and wrote again. This time with much more purpose. I published the book and sent the link to my mom, telling her I finally wrote one of my stories down for everyone to see. I then published one more each year for three years. I had a plan, you see. I needed a small library of books before I wanted to start investing in advertising. I was well on my way. But life has a funny sense of humor when it comes to those best laid plans.
Two years ago I was called back into the hospital for a CT scan. They had seen something in my chest during an x-ray of my lungs. Obviously, this is not a call you want to get. I looked at all the images they showed me. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t story something to make it more exciting. Two kinds of cancer. They’d have to cut my chest open to remove the rather large tumor. I was only thirty-seven. The whole thing was cliché in how unreal it was. It also stopped me cold in my writing. I needed to put all my energy into solving that problem. So I did. A year ago I got my port taken out. And in the last few months, I’ve written two more books, and am finishing an edit of a third.
So, this was a long walk but hopefully worth it, my hobbies are kicking cancer’s ass, writing stories, and of course, nachos. Nachos can be a hobby. Don’t you let anyone tell you any different.
I hope you enjoy my stories!
M.M. Perry
P.S. I’m an independent author who relies on a gang of the barely willing and highly unpaid for revisions and editing. If you catch something that slipped through the cracks, and think being a member of my gang is cool (it is, so, so cool), you can email me at [email protected] I appreciate your comments and suggestions. Also of interest, any super secret nacho recipes you’d
like to share. :)
WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?
I also have a fan page on Facebook, GoodReads and my blog ( mmperrynews.blogspot.com ) where I post a lot of information about upcoming books and some extras for books I’ve already published.
Other Books by M. M. Perry
Of Gods and Mortals Trilogy
· Whom the Gods Love (Book 1)
· Whom the Gods Hate (Book 2)
· Whom the Gods Fear (Book 3)
The Arbiter