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    Quiet Magic
    Quiet Magic
    Quiet Magic
    Ebook81 pages1 hour

    Quiet Magic

    By Sharon Lee and Steve Miller

    4.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A Yours, Mine and Ours collection of short stories from Liaden Universe® authors Sharon Lee and Steve Miller.

    In Steve Miller's "And Hawks for Heralds," we meet Rove Captain Slate, who doesn't believe in magic, and who only wants to cross a bridge and settle his men for the night. Unfortunately, the Bispham is on duty, and he's taken exception to the Rove Captain and his men.

    "Master of the Winds," by Sharon Lee follows two hopeful young people during their test to become the Kitemaster's apprentice. Only one can succeed.

    Lee and Miller join forces in "Candlelight," the story of a family-by-intent, and the craft that holds them together.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPinbeam Books
    Release dateMay 21, 2011
    ISBN9781935224754
    Quiet Magic
    Author

    Sharon Lee

    Sharon Lee has worked with children of various ages and backgrounds, including a preschool, a local city youth bureau, and both junior and senior high youth groups. She has a bachelor’s degree in sociology and also in psychology. Sharon cares about people and wildlife. She has been an advocate in the fight against human trafficking and a help to stray and feral animals in need.

    Read more from Sharon Lee

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    • 5/5
      I love all three of those stories and wish they'd write more in those universes - well, Steve has written more, there's at least a partial book (The Grasp of Griffins) but it's never been published. Want to read it! I like the Master of Winds too. But my absolute favorite is Candlelight - I really really want to know more about those people. Quiet magic indeed! It was published in Pulphouse a long time ago, then reissued in the chapbook - never been published elsewhere to my knowledge.

    Book preview

    Quiet Magic - Sharon Lee

    Pinbeam Books

    http://www.pinbeambooks.com

    This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fiction or are used fictitiously.

    QUIET MAGIC

    Copyright © 1999, 2011 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author. Please remember that distributing an author's work without permission or payment is theft; and that the authors whose works sell best are those most likely to let us publish more of their works.

    First published in June 1999 by SRM, Publisher.

    Master of the Winds first appeared in Dragon #84, April 1984

    Candlelight first appeared in Pulphouse #19, Spring 1995

    And Hawks for Heralds is original to this chapbook, May 1999

    ISBN:

    Kindle: 978-1-935224-75-4

    Epub: 978-1-935224-76-1

    PDF: 978-1-935224-77-8

    Published May 2011by

    Pinbeam Books

    PO Box 1586

    Waterville ME 04903

    email info@pinbeambooks.com

    Cover design by Sharon Lee

    Image ©2011 by Jupiter Media

    And Hawks for Heralds

    Steve Miller

    ROVE CAPTAIN ROMILY Slate sat comfortably ahorse, enjoying a moment of solitude. Afternoon clouds shredded themselves on still higher mountains. Before him a hanging mist was folded into a green-and-stone tumble of hillsides; hillside and mist fell away together into the river gorge they'd heard so much about for the last ten-day. Beneath all, a disquieting distant rumble—more felt than heard—as if the entire land trembled at the might of the river they approached.

    Ahead lay the Carrsbritch Crossing. It was best, he'd been told, to keep merchants hours when crossing, no matter that the bridge was open all the hours of the day and night to accommodate the traffic that flowed so heavily between the lands.

    It wise, too, to avoid those folks too eager to sell in the hurly-burly town of Hartwell they'd just left. Indeed, if one more well-meaning citizen told him Never buy from a traveler on the Carrsbritch Road he would likely draw sword!

    Advice could not be avoided in these lands. Everyone was sure to let you know that it was unwise to enter Lamonta with stolen goods if your route took you through Hartwell and the Carrsbritch Crossing.

    And so they were warned....

    They were from overseas. Even in this well-traveled corridor there was fascination about those from beyond the Bilder Sea, especially when they traveled not as merchants or mentor-and-student, but as soldiers under flag. The fascination extended to their accents, which were sharper and quicker than the speech of the seamen and coastal merchants the locals were accustomed to encountering as travelers.

    Captain! Hah! I'd camp if I were you! Mist makes a crowd on the bridge, you know! Hah! Better view, too, in the sunlight! Hah! Besides, soldiers deal better with soldiers than magicians! Hah!

    This from Ekyr Farer, the odd herb merchant they'd met on the road days before. He tugged his train of pack ponies behind him, and headed for the fork down-trail toward the cliffsides, where he had business collecting precious yellow 'fron. The little man rode, as always, urging his own small horse as if pursued; as always he smelled of his wares—a stark contrast to the bracing scent of the river valley.

    Hah. Camp before the rain comes! Hah! Sleep till dawn! Hah! came his instruction as he disappeared around a sharp hillside to the right.

    Slate muttered under his breath while Grayling, his horse, cocked his head, as if turning to get a repeat of a badly given command, and then pulled slightly on the reins, attempting to drift to the left...

    Poof, horse! Everyone wants to give me directions, including you! Slate quieted the horse with a good-natured pat on the neck.

    Slate and his small troop had made good time from their bivouac on the far side of the sprawling town of Hartwell until a series of gusty rain showers had overtaken them on the slopes rising toward the divide, turning a relatively comfortable fall ride into a miserably damp one, and slowing their progress considerably.

    Now his troopers—Catania, Disburno, Arbran, Littlebrook, and Hall—were relaxing around the luxury of an afternoon fire while they grazed their horses in a hilly meadow a few hundred paces off the busy trade route. The area was known as Kinzel Overlook after some ancient mage. Slate laughed to himself and Grayling, already grazed, pranced for a moment.

    Fifty days ago he and his men had been hurried out of DaChauxma on the order of his Lady and her new wizard. Since then he'd gathered to him a magic map, a coin sectioned by a wizard's will, a one-night lover who slept with a glowing talisman around her neck....

    Fifty days ago he'd have ridden through a thunderstorm to avoid stopping in a meadow said to have been a wizard's vantage. Now, he merely did his best to move on quickly. His sword had given him no warning of danger, after all.

    With that thought he shrugged, flexed his knees, and stretched into the stirrups, nearly standing in them. No getting around it: he was well and truly immersed in magic, against his will. That he'd willingly carry—much less depend on—a magic sword was proof that he was taking leave of his senses well before his mission to find and deal with griffins would likely take his life.

    Grayling eagerly accepted his hand's casual hint that they return to the troop and Slate let the horse set his pace on the ride to the day-camp. A cooler, drier breeze was at his back coming away from the valley and as he approached the campsite the high keening of hawks echoed about him—a sign that clearer air must be on the way.

    The sound of hawks got unexpectedly louder and more boisterous the closer they got to the campsite; not even the noise of Grayling's quickening strides hid it. Under that was another bird-like call.

    Slate hurried his mount on the damp road and up the trail to the meadow. The scent of the wet meadow grass mixed with the husky odor of low-drifting wood smoke as they entered the clearing. Slate caressed the pommel of his sword and found no

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