Sapphire - Chapter 2

On the flight home from a writing craft class last Friday, I started re-reading the Oz series by L. Frank Baum. I read so much faster now than I did when I was seven. I got to the part in the first book where the Wizard has gifted the Scarcrow, the Tin Woodman, and the Cowardly Lion their desires. I finished it last night while catsitting my niece's feline, and started The Marvelous Land of Oz tonight while Miss M sat in my lap and purred wile I stroked her fur. I don't I could have had a better hour. I got home, ate some supper, and finished Chapter Two of Sapphire. All in all a very good start to the weekend.

For those waiting for the other promised books, I am working on them. This is the project of my heart I save for an hour or two on the weekends.

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Bright morning sunshine filled Allophane’s laboratory, sending sharp glints through the crystal beakers and delicate glass vials before being reflected by the magic mirrors. Even the metal instruments reflected the light, giving her a sense of hope. The fireplace remained unlit on such a warm, glorious day. She had opened the laboratory windows to clear out the noxious fumes from her latest brew. But the light and fresh air meant nothing if she and her sisters couldn’t find a cure for the king.

The clock on the mantel ticked away the time with its silver pendulum. Shadows and reflections shifted across the room as she measured and stirred and poured. Heating part of the solution over a silver Bunsen burner until it turned pink. Cooling another part in a silver bucket of winter ice from the laboratory’s icebox until it also changed from clear to blue.

Her stomach rumbled, but she couldn’t stop working. The Kingdom of Oz could fall into civil war if King Pastoria died, especially with his daughter and only heir merely a few months old. Two of her sisters, Beryl and Willis, had proposed the sisterhood should take control and act as the princess’s regents until she reached the age of majority.

Allophane knew exactly how the governors of the four lands of Oz would react to that idea. It was the same reaction she had when Beryl and Willis proposed their plan. Power of any kind could be misused. Magic most easily of all. With the queen’s death from delivering her daughter and the king dying of what everyone assumed was heartbreak, the princess needed love and care, not to be a pawn among the nobility or the witch protectors.

Allophane shooed away her wayward thoughts and concentrated on what she was doing. She carefully poured the now-cooled pink liquid into a clean empty vial before she added the chilled blue solution.

The two liquids swirled together until the lavender mixture started fizzing. It bubbled and foamed while she carefully fed her magic into the potion so it wouldn’t run over the top of the vial.

At the rapid knocks on Allophane’s study door, her concentration shattered. So did the glass vial holding the potion she’d spent the morning brewing. The contents spilled across her work table, searing the antique wood. Drops of her elixir dripped from the edge of the table, splashed upon the flagstones of her study, and spread across the floor until the brew ignited the small blue braided rug by her favorite chair.

Holding her breath against the billowing acrid smoke, she summoned a tiny raincloud to extinguish the flames before she stomped across the drier parts of the floor. Her azure skirts and white apron whipped around her ankles with the force of her bootsteps. She yanked open her study door.

“What?” She glared at Jamina. The diminutive maid wore her household uniform of navy dress, matching leather boots, and her pale blue apron.

“This just arrived from the capital, madam.” Jamina dropped a curtsey as she held out the pure white envelope, its surface marred by a blob of brilliant green wax. In the middle of the seal was the stamp of the royal vizier, not Pastoria’s personal sigil.

With dread dragging down her soul, Allophane broke the wax and scanned the contents twice. She was too late. The king was gone.

Her entire body sagged, and she grasped the edge of one of her cabinets to remain upright. “Wh-when?”

“The messengers literally just arrived,” Jamina murmured.

“Does my sister know?”

“Jellia took Lady Beryl’s envelope to her.”

It was the mannerly thing to do. However, worry twisted Allophane’s innards. What would Beryl and Willis do with the king dead? And which way would their sister protectors jump?

“And the messengers?”

“The human is caring for his horse,” Jamina reported. “The poor thing ran for three days straight.”

Allophane nodded. “Please see that they both are given a gold coin for going above and beyond their duties.

“Yes, m’lady.” The maid curtsied for a second time before she left and closed the laboratory door.

Allophane made her way to her chair by the dark fireplace and dropped onto the soft cushion. Her tears rolled down her cheeks. How could this have happened? She, Locasta, Amber, and Glinda had been researching and brewing and—

It had all been for nothing.

Now, the baby princess would grow up without either parent. Would she even have real love with the governors and the protector witches fighting over who would be the girl’s regent until she was old enough to take the throne.

A horrible thought occurred. Would the child live long enough to become queen of Oz?

Someone knocked on the laboratory door. Someone with force. Someone who didn’t bother with respect. It could only be the one person in Munchkin Country who didn’t respect her.

Allophane wiped the tears from her cheeks with the hem of her apron before she strode across the floor and yanked the door open.

Beryl took one look at her and sniffed. “You had to have expected this news, sister.”

“Just because your compassion is non-existent, it doesn’t mean mine is,” Allophane murmured.

“This needs to be a private conversation.” Beryl stepped into the laboratory and yanked the door from Allophane’s tight grip. Once the door was closed, Beryl whirled to face her again. “This isn’t the time to wallow in emotion. The deaths of the queen and king will throw the nation of Oz into chaos.”

“Excuse me for taking a moment to grieve the passing of a good person.” Allophane glared at Beryl.

“If Pastoria was good, he would have put aside his own grief to care for his child and his people,” Beryl snapped. “Instead, he wallowed so deeply he died of a broken heart. He is at fault for the current crisis!”

“I don’t wish to argue about this right now.” Allophane looked over her shoulder at the mess in her laboratory. “Give me an hour to clean up here. I’ll have Jamina and Jellia pack one bag each for us.”

“We’re not taking a proper carriage?” Beryl’s expression turned from her typical haughtiness to outright annoyance.

“This is too important for a three day trip to the capital,” Allophane pointed out.

“Not all of us have adorable silver shoes with which to travel in an instant,” Beryl sneered.

Allophane lifted her right eyebrow. “I told you I’d help you enchant a pair.”

Beryl made a very unladylike sound deep in her chest. “Fine. I’ll make my maid packs appropriate mourning clothes.”

“Her name is Jellia,” Allophane retorted. “She’s more than a maid.”

“I don’t know why you care so much about servants.” Beryl yanked the laboratory door open and flounced out of the room.

“Because you don’t,” Allophane whispered.

And suspicion at her sister protector’s behavior dropped a seed in her heart. What if Pastoria’s death wasn’t from simple heartbreak?

Sapphire - Chapter 1

The first chapter book I ever read was the unabridged edition of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. I begged for it for my seventh birthday after seeing MGM's The Wizard of Oz (1939) a couple of times.

And as I read it, I discovered that the movie only adapted the first two-thirds of the classic novel. Then, I found out Mr. Baum had written many more books about the characters and the land of Oz. He'd also left many tantalizing, and often inconsistent, clues about the history of the fairy tale land.

One of those clues was that Oz was ruled by King Pastorius and there were eight witches, two in each of the four countries of Oz. Pastoria's queen died in childbirth, the king died shortly thereafter, and the heir Princess Ozma disappeared. A civil war broke out between the witches, leaving supposedly four alive. When the Wizard arrived in Oz, his presence was the start of a cold war between the combatants until a tornado dropped Dorothy in Munchkin Country some years later.

I've always wondered what happened during the hot war. My imagination started filling in the blanks.

Sapphire isn't the first Oz story I've published. It won't by the last either. I hope you enjoy this tidbit.

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A light-blue umbrella shielded Beryl’s pale skin from the spring sun’s morning rays as she inspected her gardens. Dark blue brick paths wound their way around each section of freshly sprouted greenery or rich loam awaiting new transplants. Munchkin lads paused to bow or tip their hats in respect as she passed before they continue to weed the perennials and plant the seedlings of the annuals. The young men were strong and limber, as delightful to look at as the blooms in her hot house, but with a much earthier smell as they worked the soil.

She had no doubt they watched her, too, after she passed them. A quick glance at her ward revealed Nimmie was not as enthralled with the morning inspection. Pink suffused the girl’s cheeks. Whatever was the matter with her would wait. Beryl wasn’t in the mood to deal with any petty problem that troubled Nimmie at the moment. It was simply too beautiful of a morning for any worries.

Boq, the supervisor of the garden crew approached them. A middle-aged man with a bit of gray in his dark beard, he removed his pointed blue cap, jingling the silver bells hanging from its brim in the process, and bowed.

“Is there anything I may assist you with, Lady Beryl?” he asked as he straightened.

She smiled. “I need someone to help me with transplanting some herbal seedlings in my greenhouse this afternoon. Could you recommend one of your crew for the duty?”

The supervisor blushed and stammered. “Surely, you would want someone with a more delicate touch to handle your valuable herbs, m’lady, than this crew. I can—”

“Pull someone else from their duties?” Beryl flicked her fingers dismissively. “It’s planting season. Everyone in the province is busy as well this week, and these gentlemen are already here at my manor.”

“I’ll volunteer, m’lady.” A young man in the iris bed pushed to his feet. His blond hair gleamed beneath the morning shine. The locks were pulled into a queue at the nape of his neck, secured by a blue silk ribbon. The color matched that of his heavy cotton trousers. An undyed apron of the same material protected his white shirt. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms.

Yes, he would do. He would do very nicely.

“Come to my private greenhouse after your lunch…”

“Fedall, m’lady.” He inclined his head.

“Very well, Fedall.” She nodded. “After your lunch hour then.”

She continued walking along the path. Nimmie scurried to catch up with her.

“Mother Beryl,” the girl murmured. “Must you use the people working on your estate in such a manner?”

“And what manner is that?”

“U-u-using them for your pleasure,” Nimmie whispered.

“Hasn’t the king commanded all citizens to support the royal protectors of Oz?” Beryl asked.

“Yes,” Nimmie stammered.

“I can focus better on my duties when I am relaxed.” Beryl stopped and stared at her ward before continuing her lecture. “Certain pleasures relax me. Yes, the people I choose give me pleasure, but I do the same for them in return. How is that not a fair trade?”

“I-I suppose it is.” Nimmie’s face was nearly as red as the southern witches’ tresses. If the girl wasn’t so loyal and valuable, Beryl would have sent Nimmie to one of the other protectors years ago.

“Are you finished criticizing your own guardian?” Beryl asked.

The girl stared at her shoes. “I apologize for my impertinence, Mother Beryl.”

“Very well then.” Beryl sighed. “It’s time for your lessons anyway.”

They took the left hand path back toward the manor. From the horrible odors drifting from the open windows on the first story, her sister witch protector for Munchkin Country worked in her laboratory.

“Maybe we should do your lessons on the north terrace.” Beryl wrinkled her nose. “Neither of us need to be gagging from Allophane’s current experiment.”

“My lady! My lady!” One of maids ran toward the pair. She skidded to a halt and barely remembered to bow in her trepidation. The instant she straightened, she thrust a brilliant white envelope sealed with green wax. “A message from the capital.”

Beryl accepted it, noting the imprint in the cooled wax was that of the royal vizier, not that of the king. She broke the seal, pulled out the letter, and scanned the contents.

“Lessons are canceled for today, Nimmie.” She eyed the girl. “Go see the cook about finding a task to occupy you.”

“What’s wrong?” her ward whispered.

“Nothing you need to worry your silly little head about.” Beryl forced a smile as she placed the letter back inside the envelope. “Unfortunately, my duties to Oz take precedence at times.”

Nimmie curtsied before running in the direction of the manor’s kitchen.

Beryl turned back to the maid. “This is not addressed to both me and my sister. Does she know about this letter?”

The maid gulped. “We received two letters, one addressed to each of you.”

“Thank you,” Beryl murmured. “You are dismissed.”

The maid also curtsied and ran in the same direction as Nimmie.

Beryl tapped the corner of the envelope against her right palm. The royal vizier had been smart enough to notify each of the eight protecters individually. Perhaps he was too smart. He would need to be eliminated before she and Willis launched their plan.

For now, she needed to display the appropriate mien of mourning when she spoke with Allophane. Then she’d use young Fedall to release her growing tension before she and Allophane traveled to the Emerald City for the funeral.

Kitties and Possums and Squirrels--OH MY!!

The first week of the new year is under my belt. Taking off the last two weeks of the year did me a world of good. I thought I could hit the keyboard hard after a break.

Except the universe and my Muse had other ideas. Too many ideas as it were. I've got future projects lined up, but Muse wants to work on all of them at the same time!

I also need to upgrade both my main computer and my travel laptop. On the former, I didn't get a chance to swap out the 512G with 2T drives. My anticipated quiet holiday was not as quiet as I'd planned. However, that task needs to wait until I get back from a writing class in Las Vegas next week.

Which leads to my latter problem. My travel laptop Baby Blue doesn't have the room to do any upgrades, especially virus protection. It is essentially only useful as a word processor. And I need the upgrades because I need to access the internet during the Vegas class. *sigh*

Both DH and I did a great deal of research and testing based on such research, but Baby Blue simply won't let us boot from a flash drive or an SD card even after cloning Baby Blue's drive. Since I was running out of time, DH found a reasonable facsimile of Baby Blue with a larger hard drive. Now, it's a question of installing the operating system and MS Office so I can do my assignments during the class.

I'm lucky DH has stayed up on tech over the last thirty years. I know just enough to be dangerous.

What does this all mean?

I won't update word counts on the blog until I get back. I'm skipping a release for January because I've already got a homework assignment for this class that needs to be finished before I leave for the class. Next Wednesday, I'll post the first chapter of War of the Witches, so you have an idea of what's coming next year. And I can buckle down on writing this year's releases during my flights.

And if I get delayed at an airport because of snow, well, that'll be more writing time, right?

Happy New Year!!

Just a reminder! The sale at Smashwords ends tonight!