Steam and Sorcery

By Patti Larsen

Burdie thought she could handle things on her own. But her troubles just got a whole lot bigger...

Things can’t possibly be any worse for Auburdeen Hayle. What began as a quiet trip for her own protection has turned into a nightmare of capture and escape. Taken by the Brotherhood of Atum and infected with living metal, Burdie is to be used as a weapon to start a war between magic users and the common man. Meanwhile, she battles to combine her witchcraft with the sorcery that has been woken inside her, both of which fight for control. If she can’t bring balance to her magic, she could very well be lost forever.

Don't miss the rest of the Hayle Coven Universe, beginning with Family Magic, from award-winning young adult author Patti Larsen, available now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Apr 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9780987897688

Patti Larsen

About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Book preview

Steam and Sorcery

Blood and Gold: Book Three

Patti Larsen

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Patti Larsen

Find out more about Patti Larsen at

http://www.pattilarsen.com/

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Original Photography by Brian Sharp. All rights reserved.

Model Shania MacPhail

Cover art (copyright) by Stephanie Mooney. All rights reserved.

Edited by Annetta Ribken, freelance Goddess. You can find her at http://www.wordwebbing.com/

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Chapter One

Time stood still in my gilded cage. Without windows or access to outside light, I had no idea how many days passed, or if, in fact, many turns of the clock occurred at all.

Occasionally I would sleep. And dream. Disturbing dreams, filled with fire and shining gold. A whispering voice called my name, summoning me closer. Though if I tried to hear what else it had to say I would wake with a start, bathed in sweat only to collapse into dream again.

And when I woke for real, it was to offerings of food or drink, neatly laid out for me. I began to wonder if, perhaps, I was being gassed or drugged somehow at exactly the proper moment.

I wanted for nothing aside from my freedom. A well-appointed lavatory with a marvelous stone washing pool recirculated the water, maintaining a constant comfortable temperature. I never did feel quite at ease enough with my present circumstance to take advantage of it fully, just in case.

A full wardrobe with dresses of varying fabrics and elaborateness stood along one wall. My old clothes went missing, so I was again stuck with my only choices for garb being far too girly and impractical for my tastes.

My pounding on the door did little but bruise my fists and despite my attempts to use my witchcraft, I was clearly being blocked. And remembering the effect my power had on Jack, I talked myself out of using it time and again anyway.

All that left was my sorcery. I tried my powers against the metal door in spite of the layered protections against me. Worse, every time I broke through one, a new one appeared, regenerating itself somehow even as each attempt triggered the internal fire and horrible itching up my right arm.

I found myself staring at the golden infection of my right hand, sitting for what seemed like hours in study, certain one moment the stuff had spread while the next calming myself down from total panic when I realized it was my fear playing tricks on me. And though I knew the spread of the stuff was inevitable and I needed to focus on escape, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of terror every time my eyes settled on the shining gold, eyes locked into a new staring pattern.

I tested my hand on a number of things, from holding my fingers over an open flame—no reaction—to crushing a metal goblet with little effort. I even attempted to smash my thumb with a weighty glass ornament, only to have the ball shatter everywhere while my hand remained intact.

Engaged in one such experiment, I heard the lock at the door slide open. I dashed to it without thinking, longing for another face, information, anything, even if it came from my captor, Samuel Brindle. As the door began to swing open, my eyes located an ornate candleholder and a desperate plan sprang to life. I grabbed it on my way, clutched in my powerful right hand, beginning my swing of the heavy thing even as I rushed forward.

The metal struck with a jarring clang, springing from my grip as it impacted something much harder than itself. I gasped, realizing what I’d done, who I’d hit, even as my heart plummeted into my stomach.

Jack. But not Jack. This golden statue of my friend had kidnapped me from the train station, taken me from my brothers and my friends after maiming Hugh, the traitorous son of my London hosts. Once a sweet and troubled young man, infected as I was, Jack had completed his transformation into a warrior of Atum, the Egyptian god of perfection.

His golden eyes were empty of anything resembling humanity as he faced me. He reached for me without a word, a relentless juggernaut. I stumbled back, even as I appealed to him.

Jack, I said, you have to remember who you are!

Someone laughed. Not my friend, no—instead, it was the man who’d pursued us both since I’d arrived in London. Samuel Brindle strode into the room behind Jack, black hair slicked back from his rugged face, pale green eyes filled with thorough satisfaction.

But he has, Samuel said. He is mine.

Jack stopped moving, coming to a halt near the center of the room. I fought desperately to regain control over the pounding of my heart even as I scowled at Samuel.

You have no idea what you’ve done. I straightened my back, drawing all of my courage around me. My coven will not stand for this kidnapping. Your pathetic Brotherhood will be hunted down to the man and destroyed.

Samuel’s gaze traveled over me as if he hadn’t heard a word I said. You had to choose the ugliest dress in the wardrobe. I almost twitched, self conscious, before tightening my hands into fists.

Release me, I said, knowing it would do absolutely no good, but having to attempt it anyway.

Samuel’s smirk was the self-satisfied smile of a man who knew he’d won. Bring her.

He turned and left without waiting to see the result of his order. I yelped in surprise as Jack surged toward me and grabbed my right arm.

The moment he touched me I felt the sludge inside me stir in answer, triggering a burning sensation traveling from my wrist all the way to my shoulder. In that moment I felt Jack, connected with him, and was horrified by what I encountered.

He felt empty, a blank slate of nothing, as though the young man he’d been was wiped clean by the infection of gold. Just as I neared despair, believing all hope was lost, for a heartbeat and a heartbeat only, I saw something deep in his eyes, a flicker of recognition.

Jack was still in there somewhere, not erased then, but buried deep. And it was my responsibility to bring him out again.

I stopped fighting, let him lead me out of the room, relief that I wasn’t really alone making me more compliant. I would bide my time and figure it out, find a way to release Jack from the thrall of the living metal.

We traveled a windowless hallway of old brick and mortar with the feel of perhaps an underground tunnel or the interior of a castle. We descended many steps before taking so many turns that I felt completely disoriented and lost by the time we emerged in a long, wide hall. I saw slits in the walls with a hint of velvet black behind. So it was night. I now knew that much at least.

I had little time to wonder, my eyes drifting from the slices of freedom above me to the throng of black-robed men and woman filling the majority of the hall. No underground lair for them this time, it seemed, unlike the one I’d crept through to rescue Jack some days ago. I could only assume now my friend completed his transformation, the Brotherhood saw it as a sign they were safe to emerge aboveground.

Samuel stood on a raised dais, his own robe open and swinging as he addressed his followers.

My friends, he said, voice echoing through the room, I have promised you many things. First, we would someday stand among the rest of humanity without fear of being discovered. Second, we would rise above them at last, the ruling class as we were meant to be. And third, we would have champions, warriors of our sacred god, to bring our power to the attention of the entire world.

The whole group seemed to sway, as if under the same deep control as Jack.

Samuel went on, a thin sheen of sweat on his face, eyes seeming to glow with his own brand of fervor. I bring you the beginning of those promises—and the end. He swept one arm wide, gesturing for Jack who automatically dragged me forward. Behold, the Warriors of Atum!

I scowled, though I’m quite certain my expression did little to alter the feelings of the gathered mass. They hummed happily in response to Samuel’s announcement, their excitement and dedication clear to me.

It was odd, however. For the first time I didn’t think of them as evil. All along, I’d considered the Brotherhood the enemy, some kind of dark and devilish organization bent on destroying everything. As I stood there and absorbed their energy, I understood at last they were nothing of the sort. Instead, their longing to be recognized, to no longer have to hide who they were, to be able to use their abilities without fear or compromise, was as crystal clear as the way Samuel Brindle now used them.

I could feel him as clearly. He didn’t care about the Brotherhood, Jack, me. All he cared about was the power his plan could bring him.

For a moment I felt a thread of hope renewed. If I could speak up, convince the Brotherhood he only manipulated them for his own purposes, that his intentions were impure and tainted, they would turn on him and Jack and I would be free. But even as the thought formed in my mind I absorbed the truth of the matter. They adored Samuel, nearly worshiped him. Turning them against him would take much more than words.

And I had nothing else to offer.

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Chapter Two

The show time didn’t last very long. Once Samuel proved to the Brotherhood we were who he claimed the meeting broke up, though I didn’t get to watch the others leave. Samuel turned and returned the way we had come, with Jack, I in his golden grasp, trailing along behind.

Two corridors and several doors later, I was planted in a high-backed wooden seat at a long dining table, a pristine place setting before me and more food than I could imagine eating spread out before me. Samuel took his place at the head of the table while Jack simply stood quietly beside him.

The handsome Brindle shook out his napkin and placed it over his lap, gaze never leaving me. I’m most grateful to you, Auburdeen. Without you, I now wonder if Jack’s full transformation would have come too late. Not for the event itself, but to keep my followers believing. You’ve done me a great favor.

I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. Why the delay? My eyes flickered to Jack and back again. You could have shown him off when you stole him.

Samuel helped himself to a sip of wine while two servants, dressed in black if not robed like the Brotherhood, quietly went about serving our meal. I tried to ignore the rumble in my stomach as I caught the scent of well-spiced soup as it was placed before me.

I wanted them all here, he said, saluting me with his glass. I summoned every member for this particular show and tell. It was well worth it.

Do they know? I shoved aside the servant’s hands and took my napkin myself, draping it as Samuel had, over my knee. That you don’t care about them? Just the power they bring you?

Samuel’s eyes narrowed a fraction before he laughed out loud. Clever girl, he said. Too clever by half. And powerful, more than him even. Samuel didn’t gesture at Jack, but he didn’t need to. I was well aware of who he meant. Imagine finding a magus, a sorcerer with talent in all five materials, buried in the heart of a talented witch. His lips quirked as he took a moment to enjoy his amusement. Your particular combination of magics clearly sped the process in our young friend here. It makes me wonder how many more witches like you are also sorcerers and how I could use that knowledge to my advantage.

I had nothing to say. Though the prospect made me furious and nervous all at the same time.

Samuel barely noticed, slurping up a spoon full of his soup. According to the scroll I uncovered, Jack’s transformation should have been complete much closer to the date of the ball. I was planning to attempt an induction with the power of the others as a catalyst, but you seem to have done what I needed quite nicely. Bravo.

I wanted to hurl the bowl of steaming soup at him, followed by my metallic right fist, but I held myself in place, the effort making my hands tremble.

At least, once this is over, I’ll have a new path to explore. He sat back a moment, gaze traveling over me. For the first time, our order will be able to actively recruit young sorcerers, test children even. And if the two types of power can be reconciled… why not sorcery/Sidhe hybrids? Or an attempt at tying in demon blood? The power of the vampires? The possibilities are endless.

He was mad, truly mad. It won’t work. The words blurted from my mouth before I could halt them.

Samuel’s expression didn’t change. Oh? His voice dripped velvet and butter. And why is that?

I hated to show my weakness, to admit I struggled. And the fact he’d found a way to block my witchcraft. They aren’t meant to work together.

He nodded slowly. Perhaps you’re not doing it right. Samuel leaned forward. It is my belief if you tried you could not only combine your two magics, but you could use them then to instantly transform yourself.

The man was clearly deluded. Why ever would I chose to do so? I glanced involuntarily at Jack’s stoic golden form and shuddered openly. Absolutely not.

Samuel shrugged and sat back again, smile returning. One way or another, you will complete the process as the living metal devours what is left of you and takes over. You will be one of the Warriors of Atum and I will be your master.

A snarl escaped me.