Magic Below Paris Complete Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 8): Trading Into Shadow, Trading Into Darkness, Trading Close to Light, Trading By Firelight, Trading by Shroomlight, plus 3 more

by C. M. Simpson

  “You, sir,” Marsh managed, and he shook his arm free as he headed out the door.

  “By the Deep’s dark ass it is…”

  Author Notes - CM Simpson

  March 12, 2019

  Thank you, once again, for joining me in another story. I trust you are enjoying Marsh’s journey as much as I am. Every time I take a break, I look forward to finding out exactly what she does next. That’s the thing about stories: it doesn’t matter how carefully you outline, there’s still space in between what you plan, for the characters to surprise you.

  I live for those surprises, even when they make my life... interesting.

  As I write these notes, I’m planning for a house inspection, which means I have to pay attention to those small spaces I don’t get to very often. So, in addition to researching things made from mushrooms, I’ve also been looking up how to clean the oven using bicarb and vinegar – since it does a better job than anything else I’ve tried, and smells a whole lot better than any of the chemical cleaners I’ve come across so far.

  I mean, vinegar, right? When you use the oven for the first time after cleaning it down, the whole house smells like fish and chips. It’s not a bad deal, plus the oven actually shines, which makes the agent happy, so it’s kind of a win-win situation.

  On top of that, I’m also coming to the end of Book 4 in this series, which makes me kind of sad, because I’ll have to leave these characters for a while, and I don’t think I’m ready to. I also think they’re a bit like some of the pets I’ve had; they can sense something is up, and they’re being downright crotchety. It’s like they don’t want this series to end, either.

  I keep telling them they’re lives will go on, just without me peering over their shoulders all the time, to which Marsh’s response usually involves shrooms and shadows, and other interesting things, while Roeglin just gives me a look that says he’s seen inside my head and, damn, it needs a spring clean. The kat, on the other hand, just yawns, stretches and flicks her tail in a derogatory way, leaving me to wonder if any of them will complain if I open a shadow door right underneath them.

  Still, recalcitrant characters aside, it’s been a bit of a wild ride, and I might be glad to write something restful for a while... if only I can work out what that is. In the meantime, Book 4 will be here soon, and the adventure continues.

  I hope to see more of you on the way.

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  March 28, 2019

  THANK YOU for not only reading this story but these Author Notes as well.

  (I think I’ve been good with always opening with “thank you.” If not, I need to edit the other Author Notes!)

  RANDOM (sometimes) THOUGHTS?

  I was walking through a pulp-fiction con last Sunday (where they sold a bunch of old paperbacks from the ’50s to the ’80s) and I ran across a Tarzan table.

  I was first thinking, ‘Oh cool, Tarzan!’ (Yes, I speak like that in my mind. I’m over 50, I get a pass.)

  The next thought was ‘Wow… that is a LOT of Tarzan.’

  Finally, as I turned to keep walking (I have very little space in our Vegas Cave in the Sky (™) I can’t really purchase anything) I wonder…

  Is Post Apocalyptic fiction a present-day version of Tarzan?

  Think about it a moment…

  Tarzan was anti-technology (for the most part) in the story.

  Tarzan was man (or woman) against the environment.

  Tarzan had a different environment than the readers.

  Tarzan had mystical events layered over the story (meaning, they would bring in ‘weird’ stuff.) I am suggesting that changes to the World Post-Apocalypse would be similar.

  You never knew what was going to happen, but there were going to be fights involved…

  I’m suggesting that those who love to Read Tarzan, would enjoy a good Post-Apocalyptic book or series as well…

  So, would YOU enjoy a Tarzan, or did you in the past?

  AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS

  One of the interesting (at least to me) aspects of my life is the ability to work from anywhere and at any time. In the future, I hope to re-read my own Author Notes and remember my life as a diary entry.

  The Cave in the Sky(™), Las Vegas, USA

  It’s early morning, I’ve been awake about twenty-five (25) minutes and my glass doors are both covered in black scribbles.

  I’ve learned that I can use black erase markers on the doors, and then just wipe it off. This (#Probably) means that my glass will never all be clean again until we sell this condo in the future.

  My wife came walking into my office last night after a particularly lengthy conceptioning period working on a book and told me it looked like ‘A Beautiful Mind’ happened.

  I haven’t seen the movie, but I’m taking that as a compliment.

  FAN PRICING

  $0.99 Saturdays (new LMBPN stuff) and $0.99 Wednesday (both LMBPN books and friends of LMBPN books.) Get great stuff from us and others at tantalizing prices.

  Go ahead, I bet you can’t read just one.

  Sign up here: http://lmbpn.com/email/.

  HOW TO MARKET FOR BOOKS YOU LOVE

  Review them so others have your thoughts, tell friends and the dogs of your enemies (because who wants to talk with enemies?)… Enough said ;-)

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

  Trading By Firelight

  The Magic Below Paris™ Book Four

  1

  Mika’s Outlet Established

  Mika’s Outlet was secure. Marsh took a long look at the clearrock the rock mages had grown to block the opening and the massive set of iron-bound gates that sealed it from the outside and turned to where Roeglin, Gustav and Master Envermet stood beside her.

  “It’s done.”

  “Way to state the obvious, Marsh.”

  Marsh pivoted to face the direction of the voice. She saw nothing but a darker patch of shadows and imagined herself stretching to take them in her hands.

  “You like digging latrines, Tams?”

  Marsh tugged on the shadow but it would not yield. Damn! The boy had gotten stronger in the last few weeks. She tried again, coaxing the shadows apart, trying to get them to thin and show what hid beneath. As she did, she felt them resist her attempts and knew Tamlin was working just as hard to hold them together.

  A small giggle escaped the densest section of them, then Tamlin gasped.

  “Stop it, Aysh!”

  The giggle came again, and Marsh felt the shadows wriggle beneath her hand.

  “Aysh!”

  More giggling followed, then an exclamation of outrage, and the shadows dissipated to reveal Tamlin squirming away from his little sister as she tried to tickle him.

  “Thanks a lot, sis! Now, c’m’ere!”

  Marsh watched as Tamlin made a grab for the mischief-maker, only to have her slip into the rock she was leaning against.

  “Cheater!”

  “Am not!” the rock said.

  “Get your tail out here!”

  “Uh-uh!”

  “You have to sleep sometime!”

  Aisha stuck her head out of the rock.

  “Yeah? You and whose army?”

  Beside Marsh, Roeglin started to laugh.

  “Remind you of anyone?” he asked, nudging Marsh in the ribs, and Envermet snorted.

  “Every damn day,” the shadow guards’ captain said and walked to where the rock mages were inspecting their work.

  Marsh stared after him, not sure whether to be insulted, shocked, or entertained. Envermet’s parting comment didn’t help.

  “I told you to watch the examples you set.”

  Marsh turned to Roeglin, ignoring the amusement dancing in the dark-haired mage’s eyes.

  “I can never tell if he’s mad at me or joking.”

  Roeglin smiled and clapped her on the shoulder.

  “Join the club. Come on, let’s go see how Master Petitfeu’s latest batch of cookies cam
e out.”

  “Cookies!”

  At the mention of the word, Aisha came out of the rock and shot past them, with Tamlin in hot pursuit. There was a flurry of movement, and Scruffknuckle emerged from a nearby cluster of shrooms and grass. He bounded after the two children, two hoshkat kits racing in his wake.

  “You think he’s still bent on revenge?” Roeglin asked, but Marsh shook her head.

  “Nah. He’s just trying to beat her and the pup to the cookies.”

  Roeglin broke into a trot.

  “Boy has a point,” he said as he bolted past her. “If those two get to them before the rest of us, there won’t be many left.”

  Laughing, Marsh sprinted after him.

  Her laughter died, however, when she entered the community center that was acting as a temporary barracks in the small town.

  “You!” Brigitte scolded, brandishing a ladle at her.

  Before Marsh could reply, the mage swept her hand toward where Aisha was sitting and sipping a cup of hot chocolate, her hand curled protectively around two very large cookies.

  “I thought things would change when Envermet elevated me to master, but no. Instead, I get assigned not one but two pestilential apprentices—and one of them has the appetite and all the manners of shroom-muncher!”

  “Hey!”

  Clearly, Aisha’s lessons with the rock mages had extended to include all the lifeforms in the caverns. She knew enough of the shroom-devouring beetle to know what Brigitte was referring to and be offended. Across the table from her, Tamlin said nothing.

  “Shut up and eat your cookie!” Brigitte scolded, but Aisha was way ahead of her, so she couldn’t do anything but chew and roll her eyes in reply.

  The ex-journeyman looked at Marsh and Roeglin.

  “I suppose the pair of you thought you’d get to test these too?”

  Marsh looked at Roeglin, feeling her skin heat as she blushed. At least the shadow mage looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. Brigitte raised her eyebrows.

  “I see,” she said, and reached behind her for two small baskets. “Then you can take these out to the mages working on the wall. The Deeps know they need the energy far more than either of you.”

  She watched as they took the baskets and gave them an impish grin.

  “And you can have one, too…as thanks for your help.”

  “Hey!” Roeglin began, but Marsh grabbed him by the arm and spun him around before he could say more.

  “On it!” she said, and she had the shadow master out the door before he thought to resist.

  “What did you do that for?”

  “What? She gave us a whole basket of cookies each, and left us unsupervised to deliver them…” Marsh started, and let the words trail off.

  Roeglin’s eyes widened when he caught where she was going.

  “You wouldn’t…”

  “Oh, I don’t know. New mage master giving orders to her seniors…it might be fun.”

  “Right up until I give you both latrine and stable duty for a week.” Master Envermet’s disapproving rumble interrupted her before she could go any farther. “Make sure my mages get their cookies before I fine you yours for being more of a pain in the ass than usual.”

  And he brushed right past them, heading for the kitchen.

  Marsh watched him go, her mouth open in surprise.

  “That was humor,” she managed after a small pause, and it was Roeglin’s turn to hook his arm through hers and guide her toward where the rock mages were resting beside their wall.

  “It was,” he agreed, “and aren’t we just lucky he was in a good mood today?”

  “I wonder why…” Marsh mused, but Roeglin didn’t reply, and neither of them spoke until the cookies had been delivered.

  The answer became clear on their return to the dining hall.

  Shadow guards were hurrying back and forward, some packing their bedrolls into backpacks, and others clearing the tables and chairs from the center of the room. At the same time, several Mika’s Outlet locals were lining up before a short, round man with a balding pate and curly gray hair. Master Envermet was standing beside him and looked up as they entered.

  “Good to see you back so soon,” he said, but whether he was referring to them delivering the cookies or genuinely glad to see their rapid return, Marsh couldn’t tell. “I’m leaving twenty guards to train the Protector’s here; the rest of us are moving out in the morning.”

  He looked at Roeglin.

  “It would be helpful if we had more mind mages,” he said. “I don’t suppose…”

  Roeglin shook his head.

  “Only Felicity so far, but I’m hoping there will be more.”

  Master Envermet’s face clouded, his good mood evaporating as he glanced down at the man at the desk.

  “Everyone has the ability to do magic, don’t they?” he pressed, clearly repeating a question he’d been asked. Roeglin sighed, realizing he’d have to explain the whole magical ability thing again.

  “That is what the first wanderer told us, but we have found that the ability varies…like other human abilities. Some find magic an easy thing,” and here he glanced at Marsh before continuing, “and others find it difficult to the point of near impossibility…and then there is the fact that not everyone can access the same kind of magic, or more than one kind. It’s just a matter of people trying to see what they can do—and knowing and believing that they will be able to do something.”

  Roeglin delivered that last bit like he was delivering a speech, but Marsh didn’t mind; she knew why. She recognized the gray-haired man now. He was the village leader, the mayor, and Marsh knew he’d be looking for a way to get his people to embrace the need to discover and use what magic they might have.

  She didn’t envy him the task. Ninetta’s farm wasn’t the only place they’d discovered a bad attitude toward magic. Of course, they hadn’t arrived in the nick of time to save the farmers from a band of raiders, but they had done that when they arrived at the town—and the rock mages and shadow mages had been the only reason Mika’s Outlet wasn’t a ghost town like so many others before it.

  Things like that had a way of turning attitudes around—for most people. She had no doubt that there would still be some who needed more proof… and others who would never be convinced. The community would just have to find a way to deal with it as they developed. From what she could see, magic had always been inside them, and it was there to stay.

  She studied the mayor’s face, watching him digest the news. From the little she knew of him, he’d already be trying to work out ways of getting his people to try what Roeglin had suggested—trying to see what abilities they had that he could leverage. Marsh cleared her throat, looking around the hall, and drawing Envermet’s attention.

  “Yes, Shadow Mage?”

  “I was just wondering how many of the rock mages were staying,” she said. “There’s a wolf pack looking for partners, and…”

  Master Envermet waved for her to stop.

  “I’m leaving a contingent of twenty shadow guards, and a half dozen of the rock mages have asked to stay, something I will agree to as soon as I’ve cleared it with the Masters of Beast and Stone.”

  He said this last with a glance toward Roeglin that was as good as an order.

  “When?” the shadow mage asked.

  “When we’re done here,” Envermet told him. “The mayor needs to know as soon as we are able.”

  The mayor, for his part, was looking at Envermet in puzzlement.

  “Yes?” the shadow captain asked, no doubt knowing what was coming.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” the mayor began, and Marsh sensed genuine concern behind his words, even with the “but” hanging in the air between them.

  And sure enough, it was there when the man continued.

  “But how can rock mages help us with wolves? Or crops,” he added after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t understand how workers in stone can be of any help with the plants and
beasts…and I don’t see any druids here.”

  He cast an apologetic glance toward Marsh.

  “With the exception of the shadow mage here, and the child, of course. No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” Marsh told him, but left it to Master Envermet to explain why the rock mages were so much more than their name implied.

  The shadow guard captain gave a heavy sigh and walked away from the table. Before Marsh and Roeglin could do more than draw a breath in protest, he’d collected a nearby chair and returned to sit beside the mayor. Marsh and Roeglin hurried to do the same.

  “The rock mages,” Master Envermet began as soon as they’d seated themselves, “are only called that because that is how they served the Caverns when they showed themselves at all. If they’d lived on the surface they would have been called druids from the start, but, just as the shrooms and their creatures are a part of the natural world around them, so too are the rocks, and most work with more than one of those elements.”

  Marsh listened as the shadow captain described the different things the rock mages could do, her eyes tracking the movement in the room. She saw when the last of the Mika’s Outlet recruits arrived and gathered around the table. These men and women listened intently to what Envermet had to say, their gazes drifting across the room as though searching for these “rock mages.”

  Marsh saw some frowns when they didn’t see any of the druidic mages and watched as their attention was drawn by something else. She followed their gazes and found that, having cleared the packs and bedding from around the hall, the shadow guards had moved the tables to the edges and stacked the chairs on top of them before forming into squads in the room’s center.

  She had to admit they looked impressive in their Protector uniforms. They looked even more impressive when they started their first set of katas, drawing their swords and going through the standard moves before pulling shadow from the edges of the room to coat their blades. Marsh saw the Mika’s Outlet recruits’ eyes grow wide as Master Envermet finished his explanation.