Infinite Travels

By Meyari McFarland

Seven journeys: Infinite Travels collects seven stories by Meyari McFarland chronicling travels physical, emotional and metaphorical. Questions of identity, of freedom, of gender and justice are examined in these seven stories that span the genres and explore whole new worlds.

Infinite Travels collects seven exciting trips into the imagination of Meyari McFarland that you will never forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MDR Publishing
• Release date: Mar 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311532572

Meyari McFarland

Meyari McFarland has been telling stories since she was a small child. Her stories range from SF and Fantasy adventures to Romances but they always feature strong characters who do what they think is right no matter what gets in their way. Her series range from Space Opera Romance in the Drath series to Epic Fantasy in the Mages of Tindiere world. Other series include Matriarchies of Muirin, the Clockwork Rift Steampunk mysteries, and the Tales of Unification urban fantasy stories, plus many more. You can find all of her work on MDR Publishing's website at www.MDR-Publishing.com.

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Infinite Travels

By Meyari McFarland

Other Books by Meyari McFarland:

Fitting In

Artifacts of Awareness

A Range of Debts Collection

The Nature of Beasts

Captured Debts Collection

Repair and Rebuild

Infinite Horizons Collection

Tales from the Dana Clanhouse

Storm Over Archaelaos

Infinite Dreams Collection 2

Coming Together

Tales of Adventure

Tales of Romance

Following the Trail

Crafting Home

Transport of War

Copyright ©2015 by Mary Raichle

Cover image © Phakimata | Dreamstime.com - African Tribal Beauty Face Photo

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be emailed to [e-mail]

This book is also available in TPB format from all major retailers.

Dedication:

This collection is dedicated to my favorite authors, Wen Spencer, Barbara Hambly, and Robert Heinlein, for inspiring me to write, write, and keep on writing, no matter what.

Table of Contents

Memories of Fire

Bringing the Rains

Midwife to Divinity

Center

From the Night

Transformations

Bottling the Cold, Hard Heart

Transplant of War

Afterword

Memories of Fire

Youneda rolled over, scales rasping against the stone slabs he'd had installed in his front yard instead of that messy, irritating grass. He had no idea why humans loved the stuff so much. Always growing, spreading into the cracks and the pollen! Sticky, stinky, horrible stuff, pollen. Felix next door yelled every time Youneda burned the grass off his front yard but there was no possibility that he'd leave the stuff there. A week, no more than two, and every single crack in the rocks would have roots creeping in and that just wasn't acceptable. Stupid grass getting into everything no matter what you did, wormlike roots creeping through everything even as their dagger-leaves burned to ash.

He opened one eye to glare up at the sky with a shudder. Still overcast. There wasn't supposed to be any rain today, thank goodness, but the clouds were thick enough to block the afternoon sun he'd come out to enjoy. If the fines against weather modification weren't so steep Youneda would cast a spell to clear the skies so that he could properly bask under the sun, even though it never got truly warm in the Puget Sound. Youneda certainly had no intention of investing in sun lamps the way the local government suggested.

How was a dragon supposed to properly bask with sun lamps? He growled, flopping his head against the stones again. Ridiculous thought. He should have eaten that damned pencil pusher for suggesting it, even though human flesh did terrible things to his digestion system. If he weren't so comfortable in his house, especially his new rocket mass heater with the large basking couch covered with thick cushions, Youneda would move somewhere warmer. Maybe the southwest though there were entirely too many dragons in that area. He'd have a hard time even getting a house down there.

Damn you kids! Felix bellowed from next door. Stay off my lawn!

Suck it grandpa!

Ah, we're just taking a short cut, gramps!

Youneda opened his eyes, raised his head over the fence and then huffed a cloud of smoke across Felix's lawn. Young Shinji Miyabe, riding his spelled float board that left gouged twin tracks through Felix's beloved grass-patch of a lawn, zipped straight through the cloud while his best friend Mayami sailed higher into the sky, her wings flipping insolently at both Felix and Youneda.

They laughed as they swooped across Felix's lawn, out into the street and then over the top of a Fed Ex truck slowly coming up the lane to deliver who knew what. Probably another stack of books to Fuwa. That was a dragon who could do with a good bit more basking and a lot less hoarding. Pretty soon he wouldn't be able to move inside his house for all the books stacked high. Not that Youneda would help clean the mess out. Fuwa chose that horde. He could deal with it when the health officials came to forcibly remove him from the house until the mess was cleaned up.

Damned kids these days, Felix grumbled. No respect.

Call their parents, Youneda advised in a grumpy huff that scorched a spot of stone in front of his nose but not the sturdy wood fence dividing their properties. Grass-lover notwithstanding, Youneda did somewhat respect Felix. They should learn proper respect at home.

That's not going to work, Felix said, waving one hand to blow the smoke away. He didn't appear to mind that much, which made sense given that he had his pipe out and was puffing great clouds of blue sparkly smoke around. It curled around his shoulders as if alive, surrounding him and not spreading across the fence. Miyabe's parents are both cyber-mages. They don't respect tradition. And Mayami, hmph! That child's dam works on the city council. Last time I had to deal with her all she'd talk about was improving the city water supply and how lovely cell phones were.

Youneda groaned, flopping back onto his stones. Definitely no point there, then. Next time I'll fry them.

Felix snickered approvingly. It was nearly impossible to catch his scent when he smoked that pixie weed but Youneda thought that he had a hint of fear at the idea, not that Felix would ever show it. Old dragon hunter like Felix would never show fear to a dragon, no matter what.

And wasn't that the summation of Youneda's life? Living next door to a dragon hunter. Friends with one, no less. How the mighty had fallen, not that Youneda was ever one of the mighty dragons. A dragon who hoarded various forms of pottery was never going to rise to power. You needed gold or silver or, better these days, programming skills to do that.

Still, he hadn't done too badly for himself. His horde had some very nice pieces worth quite a lot of money. The occasional sale of one or two provided for him quite nicely and the house, legacy of his maternal great-aunt Ougi, was fully paid for. His needs were modest and at this point in Youneda's life all he really wanted was a nice quiet bask on a warm sunny afternoon. Not that he could get that today.

Hmm, Felix grunted. That's odd.

What?

Fed Ex, Felix replied. Stopping here.

What?

This time Youneda opened his eyes. He sat up properly when he saw that the Fed Ex truck actually had stopped in front of their houses. The young dragon who clambered out was thin, svelte, attractive in all the ways that would have had Youneda preening his wings despite the scars and sagging membranes a few decades ago. Just the lovely lavender and purple scales around her throat would set any dragon to preening even with her beautiful colors half-hidden by a plain brown Fed Ex shirt.

Her tail wagged slowly, invitingly, as she rummaged through the truck for her delivery. Felix snorted, raising an eyebrow when Youneda glowered at him. Really, he ought to allow an old dragon his fantasies. Youneda's scales weren't that faded with age, not yet. Though his wings, admittedly, showed his age in all the worst ways. Flying was such a challenge anymore. That was why his garage had an old Harley Davidson in it instead of racks of pottery for his horde.

Youneda? the young Fed Ex dragon asked.

Ah, yes? Youneda said, feet firmly planted on the stone despite the way his tail twitched with the need to preen. At least he managed to keep his wings firmly folded against his back where their sagging membranes didn't show quite so badly.

Delivery, the Fed Ex dragon said, passing him a padded envelope and one of those irritatingly small data pads to sign off on. Just sign here, please.

Ah, yes, of course, Youneda said, snorting a little at how little reaction the young Fed Ex dragon had to his size and the breadth of his chest. At least she didn't eye his overgrown belly. Young people these days, no respect for age and power.

He signed, sighed as the Fed Ex dragon flitted back to her truck and then drove away in a roar of pixie dust colored exhaust. Must have filled up on Seventeenth. They never did get the proper gas there.

So what is it? Felix asked. Message from family? Present? You actually spend money on the internet for once?

Bite your tongue, Youneda said, glowering at him as he used one sadly dull claw to tear the envelope open. As if I'd waste money on the ridiculous things they manufacture now.

Well, didn't really think so, Felix said, puffing at his pipe and then grumbling that it had gone out. Nice bit of dragon lass though. Quite turned your head, you ridiculous old fool.

I'm not that old. I can still look, Youneda complained. Hmm. Odd.

It was odd. Inside was a cream paper envelope. There was no return address though the thing felt thick and firm enough for a business card inside. Youneda sniffed, nodding that it smelled of human hands though he thought he detected a hint of dragon on it, too. Felix took the Fed Ex envelope, grumbling that there wasn't anything on it to indicate who'd sent it.

Ah, work, Youneda said, settling down on his elbows to scan through the packet of information inside the envelope. It's little Morton, you remember, fourth son of Sam Ellis? Went off to college and then became an archeologist.

Didn't he go to work for some company? Felix asked, peering over the fence while puffing furiously on his pipe. Sparkling blue smoke crept down over his arms, around his waist.

No, that was the second son, Youneda said. The one with the Ferrari.

They both grumbled about that. Paul Ellis was, in both Youneda and Felix's opinions, the bad seed of that lot. Always roaring up the street, bragging about his money and power and then quietly begging his father for a handout when he was in town. No horde sat behind that boy's riches. His credit card debt had to be horrific.

So what does Morton need? Felix asked.

He's found an old teapot from the Opening, Youneda said absently, tapping the back of one claw against the picture that Morton had included. It's very similar to several he saw in my horde. Wants a second opinion on the thing as there are some factors that don't make sense.

Right one to ask for that, Felix said with such a bored expression that Youneda's ears slid back against his skull as he lifted one lip in a snarl. Felix snorted, tapping the pixie weed out of his pipe. The smoke immediately dissipated around him in a crackling role of sparks. Oh, stop. Wanted to know about weapons you'd ask me. Pottery, that's you. That's all. Still don't know what's so fascinating about old clay pots.

You're an idiot, Youneda grumbled at him as he carefully refolded the letter around the picture before tucking them back into the envelope. His wing fingers gripped it as Youneda headed back into his house. Do get to work on your precious grass, Felix.

Damn kids, Felix grumbled. Luck to you and all that.



Youneda smiled as he leaned over the handlebars of his