“Ilex and Melia were both of the sacred bloodline,” said Genevre. “As mutually conjoined alchemists of the bloodline, their blood was extraordinarily powerful. My own blood is likewise powerful by virtue of inheritance.”
Gradually and finally swayed by Genevre’s logic, Cedar held an ink bottle beneath Genevre’s hand to catch each drop of her blood. Made of clear glass and housing barely an ounce of Lapidarian ink, the bottle allowed both Cedar and Genevre to watch the blood hit the blue liquid. Unexpectedly, the conjunction of blood and ink made a sound — a short but distinct sizzle that startled Cedar. Yet as expected, the blood remained visible only momentarily before dispersing into the ink. Cedar was more intrigued by the sound than the sight of this venture.
“Your blood is powerful,” said Cedar.
“Your turn,” said Genevre. Cedar set the bottle on the table and took the needle. She poised it above her fingertip.
“What will happen if I prick my finger with this needle, Genevre? What do you think will happen if your blood mixes with mine?”
“Alchemy.”
With those words, Genevre had offered her friend a fragment of the truth. But what she did not reveal to Cedar, what she knew Cedar could not have anticipated despite the partial truths Genevre had revealed, is that mixing even one drop of her own blood with Cedar’s would have repercussions far more extensive than anything any alchemist could have imagined. Cedar had hundreds of years’ worth of Elixir coursing through her veins. She remained a powerful alchemist regardless of the unorthodox erasure. And even more relevant in this particular case, her Elixir-filled blood not only flowed with the after-effects of Sephrim but also with the essence of the one with whom she had conjoined years ago. Thus, when Cedar pierced her own finger, Genevre’s blood mixed with that of both Cedar and Saule. Within seconds, Cedar was writhing on the floor in pain.
“You will be okay. The discomfort will pass,” Genevre said, positioning herself beside Cedar in an effort to prevent her from flailing against the edge of the raised fireplace hearth.
Moments later, Cedar screamed so loudly that Genevre feared she would attract unwanted attention from the neighbours. Thus, as soon as physically possible, she helped Cedar to her feet and guided her to the relative privacy of the bedroom at the back of the house. Within the hour, the pain appeared to have passed. Cedar rested comfortably, breathing calmly, and eventually falling asleep. But the end of the pain did not mark the end of the transmutation. The alchemy of the combined bloodlines continued even as the night progressed, even as they moved through restless dreams awaiting dawn, even as the morning light fell across the bed, even as Genevre opened her eyes to face her friend.
“Do not fear, Genevre. Cedar will be fine.”
“Where is she?”
“Resting in the shadows,” replied Saule.
Acknowledgements
Thank you, first of all, to all the people who wrote a review of The Alchemists’ Council. Receiving positive feedback on Book One was extraordinarily motivating as I wrote and revised Book Two. Thank you, also, to my family, friends, and colleagues who have supported my creative endeavours in myriad ways — from retweeting book updates to laughing with me over a margarita. Thank you Farah Moosa for all our chats and dinners, and especially for listening to the book fair pitch. Thank you to all the folk who attended the Book One launch, with special thanks to friends who helped out (including those who baked bee cookies, set up beekeeping equipment, or sported sartorial bee wear): Darby Love, Marni Stanley, Kathryn Barnwell, Sonnet L’Abbé, Farah Moosa, Joy Gugeler, Melissa Stephens, Tami Joseph, Nicole Klan, and Paul Klan. Thank you Janis Ledwell-Hunt for joining me at Nanaimo GeekCon and informing people you weren’t the author! Thank you Sandra Hagan for brainstorming the Rebel Branch chant with me as we awaited literal fireworks. Thank you Malgorzata Drewniok for your enthusiasm and encouragement when we chatted about the books in London, UK. Thank you Frances Sprout, Rhonda Wilcox, and Tamy Burnett not only for the savvy reviews but also for your ongoing friendship and inspirational chats. Thank you Tami Joseph and Johnny Blakeborough for rescuing me on the day I first attempted to set up the News from Council Dimension blog. Thank you Elaine Lay for our biweekly alchemical ponderings during your research assistantship. Thank you Cheryl Morrison for the stunning Amber Tree pendant and our interprovincial phone calls. Thank you Joan Coldwell and Ann Saddlemyer for sanctuary and sustenance — and, Ann, thanks for our discussion on Yeats and alchemy (which, as you will see, inspired a few elements of Book Two). Thank you Anita Young for being not only my beloved friend for thirty years but also my virtual literary patron. Thank you, once again, to everyone at ECW Press, especially Crissy Calhoun and David Caron. And thank you, most of all, to Jen Hale — not only for the exquisite editing but also for the laughter, the inspiration, the texts, the memes, the visits, the fluctuating percentages, and the spaghetti recipes. Book Three awaits!
About the Author
CYNTHEA MASSON is a professor in the English department at Vancouver Island University. After completing a Ph.D. in English with a focus on medieval mysticism, she was awarded a postdoctoral fellowship, which included work with alchemical manuscripts at the British Library. Her award-winning academic work includes the co-edited book Reading Joss Whedon. The first book in the Alchemists’ Council series was shortlisted for the Kobo Emerging Writer Prize and won the Gold Medal for Fantasy in the 2017 Independent Publisher Book Awards. She lives in British Columbia.
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A rebellious heroine faces a colonial world coming unstitched in Jae Waller's stunning debut fantasy
Seventeen-year-old Kateiko doesn’t want to be Rin anymore — not if it means sacrificing lives to protect the dead. Her only way out is to join another tribe, a one-way trek through the coastal rainforest. Killing a colonial soldier in the woods isn’t part of the plan. Neither is spending the winter with Tiernan, an immigrant who keeps a sword with his carpentry tools. His log cabin leaks and his stories about other worlds raise more questions than they answer.
Then the air spirit Suriel, long thought dormant, resurrects a war. For Kateiko, protecting other tribes in her confederacy is atonement. For Tiernan, war is a return to the military life he’s desperate to forget.
Leaving Tiernan means losing the one man Kateiko trusts. Staying with him means abandoning colonists to a death sentence. In a region tainted by prejudice and on the brink of civil war, she has to decide what’s worth dying — or killing — for.
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Copyright
Copyright © Cynthea Masson, 2018
Published by ECW Press
665 Gerrard Street East
Toronto, Ontario, Canada, M4M 1Y2
416-694-3348 / [email protected]
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any process — electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise — without the prior written permission of the copyright owners and ECW Press. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
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.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Masson, Cynthea, 1965–, author
The flaw in t
he stone / Cynthea Masson.
(The Alchemists’ Council ; book 2)
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-77041-274-3 (softcover)
Also issued as: 978-1-77305-147-5 (PDF),
978-1-77305-146-8 (ePub)
I. Title.
PS8626.A7993F53 2018 C813’.6 C2017-906210-7 C2017-906211-5
Editor: Jen Hale
Cover design: Michel Vrana
Paper texture © Kamyshko/Shutterstock
Honeycomb © sauletas/Shutterstock
The publication of The Flaw in the Stone has been generously supported by the Canada Council for the Arts, which last year invested $153 million to bring the arts to Canadians throughout the country, and by the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund. Nous remercions le Conseil des arts du Canada de son soutien. L’an dernier, le Conseil a investi 153 millions de dollars pour mettre de l’art dans la vie des Canadiennes et des Canadiens de tout le pays. Ce livre est financé en partie par le gouvernement du Canada. We also acknowledge the Ontario Arts Council (OAC), an agency of the Government of Ontario, and the contribution of the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.
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