Delicate Dangerous Queens

By Stephanie Barr

Four origin stories for key players from the Curse of the Jenri. All prequels so no spoilers.

Delicate Dangerous Queens - Saldomar has lived the life of a solitary mage until an unfortunate even washes him on shore, all but dead. But all but dead is still alive. Find out how he finds his familiar and a reason to take a companion.

Not a Doxy - There's nothing the assassin, Cristo, hates more than the sound of women or children crying. But how do you help a green girl who's coming face to face with the evil sorcerer who is Cristo's own nightmare. Not that she's crying...yet.

Hidden Treasure - Denra agrees that the town she's guarding will be attacked, but she can't rid her mind of the thought she's waiting at the wrong place--and her only help when she finds the real point of attack is a pretty cantankerous amputee. How can they possible hold off the attack by themselves?

Not Quite a Knight - Tasked to protect the area from the demons and monsters that seem to be coming far more often, Riko happens upon people who refuse to let him do his job alone--and it's a damn good thing.

Sword and sorcery so violence is frequent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephanie Barr
• Release date: May 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463753231

Stephanie Barr

Although Stephanie Barr is a slave to three children and a slew of cats, she actually leads a double life as a part time novelist and full time rocket scientist. People everywhere have learned to watch out for fear of becoming part of her stories. Beware! You might be next!

Book preview

Delicate Dangerous Queens

and other origin stories from Curse of the Jenri

by Stephanie Barr

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2018 Stephanie Barr

Discover other titles by Stephanie Barr at Smashwords.com

Conjuring Dreams or Learning to Write by Writing

Tarot Queen

Beast Within (First of the Bete Novels)

Nine Lives (Second of the Bete Novels)

Twice the Man (Third and final Bete Novel)

Saving Tessa

Musings of a Nascent Poet

Curse of the Jenri

Legacy

Ideal Insurgent

The Taming of Dracul Morsus

Pussycats Galore

Catalyst

The Library at Castle Herriot

Dedicated to Stephanie, Roxy and Alex, always.

To Chuck Larlham who not only supported these stories at every step along the way, but beta read the whole thing again without complaint.

To Mirren Hogan, Eric Klein, Lee Barr, Dar Matthews, Jen Ponce, and Ana Marija Meshkova, proof that good beta readers are worth their weight in gold

And to Fiona Sky who edited three of these stories.

Cover by Shannon Lee

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.

Table of Contents

Delicate Dangerous Queens (Saldomar)

Not a Doxy (Cristo)

Hidden Treasure (Denra)

Not Quite a Knight (Riko)

About the Author

Preview of Curse of the Jenri

Delicate Dangerous Queens

What a stupid way to die, trying to save a stranger, Saldomar muttered, as the surf washed against the horrific hole in his side, bringing a wave of painful fire with its salty kiss. What kind of idiot gets on a ship when he can't swim? Should never have dived after him. I should have let him drown.

Though, upon further reflection, Saldomar had to admit the end the stranger met with—a school of hungry sharks—was hardly more pleasant than drowning. Saldomar wished mightily they hadn't seen him as a second course.

Saldomar got away—magic has its uses—but not unscathed, because magic has its limitations. Saldomar figured he'd used up the rest of his good luck being close enough to shore to make it to ground. He'd been there, baking in the sun, half in and out of the water, for what seemed hours. It probably hadn't been, but the distinction didn't really seem important since even the expectation of death was not quite compelling enough to get him to crawl entirely onto dry land.

Saldomar the Mage. There was a part of the world that would shudder at that name, offer obeisance, or perhaps make the sign against evil. How his master would laugh to see him now, a victim of the tide. Saldomar summoned a chuckle. His master would probably kick him again for good measure for his cockiness.

He ought to get up and do it himself right now, before he ran out of blood.

He waited to see if that would work.

Nope, still nothing.

The sharks didn't get any vital organs—Saldomar was just quick enough to move bowels and kidney out of the way—but the sharks had made a mess of some muscles and more than a few blood vessels, so the sea left a little redder than it came in. Too bad mages can't heal themselves, he thought bitterly, though he could feel his magical reservoirs were ebbing, too. But he might could make it, if he wasn't jammed between a couple of rock spurs on some Bastor-forsaken pebbly beach with no signs of intelligent life anywhere.

As if in answer to that thought, there was a scream. Not human, but also not the scream of any animal he could readily imagine. It was a defiant, angry, I'm-going-to-kill-you scream, and Saldomar was really not in the mood to be eaten by anything that vicious. But, while the screaming and obvious sounds of clashing and tussling, punctuated by yelps and grunts of pain, felt close enough to be within arm's length, Saldomar saw nothing.

Which should have made him happy. That was all he needed: to be torn to bits by thrashing animals. And yet, as the fight progressed and the screaming of the first creature became more strident, more desperate, he wasn't finding himself the least bit pleased.

What in Nether was going on?

Curiosity, as his master had noted, was an occupational hazard for Magii. Saldomar had it in spades. When a hideous beast—dead, about half Saldomar's size, like a dog-warthog cross—landed with a thud by his head, Saldomar had to know what had happened. Following the trajectory of the monster, Saldomar managed to pull himself past his rock spurs, and with a little more stubbornness, over the lip of what he thought was an embedded volcanic boulder, but which turned out to be the hollowed-out cup of a nest of large eggs. The eggs, mostly broken now, were being attacked by a sizable pack of more of the nasty beasts and were defended by the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

She looked like a dragon in miniature, made of amethyst and jade, so like crystal herself she didn't seem opaque. Her efforts to defend her eggs had not been fruitless. There were more dead beasts than those still living, but it had taken a toll. One of her wings was badly mauled, so she was grounded, and there were several wounds in her lustrous hide. Many of the dead were scorched so Saldomar presumed she had fire breath, but it, like magic, appeared to be a finite resource. With her brood reduced to a couple eggs at most, she stood steadfast above them, her functioning wing poised as a shield, but she was but one creature. And they were clearly practiced in teamwork.

He saw the bum's rush, knew she would fall, and spoke without thinking, a simple spell of sleep. Natural magic wasn't his forte, per se, but it wasn't taxing and worked well on all but two of the creatures. She attacked one of the remainder while the other jumped on her back. Saldomar gathered a bit of his magic power and aimed a fireball at the assailant on her back, hoping her fire breath made her resistant to flames.

The creature fell from her, screaming, flaming, but crushed another egg. The dragon queen screamed and latched on to the last of her attackers with a merciless bite to the throat. When it collapsed, she fell with it and didn't move, other than ragged breaths that shook her body and tremors of nerves flailing their last.

Hey, he said conversationally, the others are just asleep. They'll wake up soon.

Oh, well. I did what I could, he thought. Maybe she'll get lucky. But he couldn't quite escape the notion that her store of luck, like his, was finite.

So, with an effort that surprised him and a bolt of debilitating pain, he managed to pull himself over the lip and tumble down into the dragonet-made caldera.

His magic might be tapped out, but he had his dagger. He crawled from one remaining beastie to the next, making sure they were all well and truly dead, pausing only for the waves of nauseating pain to wash over him or to wait out the fits of dizziness.

He found himself truly grieving as he saw the small dragon bodies, in a myriad of jewel-like colors, all but formed, crushed or partially eaten. They were probably only days from hatching. He searched among the tiny corpses, small enough to fit in his hand, and shell fragments, to see if any eggs remained intact. There were three he thought might be, but one was torn through on the other side and one had cracked long since, its cargo long dried out and rattling within the shell. Only one, still warm and heavy in his hand, remained. This shell was purplish and he could almost feel the heartbeat of the creature within.

A hiss broke him from his reverie and he turned his head to see her arched over him, her violet eyes whirling with fury. He could see her shaking but didn't know if it was the pain and blood loss or her own rage. Her body was badly mauled and her ravaged wing dragged behind her. He doubted she would ever fly again.

But she was intent on him and what he would do to her last egg.

He offered her the egg, surprised at his own reluctance, his hands shaking as he leaned on his other elbow and held it out to her. She cocked her head to the side, regarding him intently, and then pushed his hand back.

He had no time to puzzle out her meaning as he found his world going black but had enough presence of mind