The Mantle: Shaman States of America

By Chrishaun Keller-Hanna and W.T. Meadows

To protect our tradition, and those that cannot defend themselves, those families of the Hunt that produce three children of the same sex - born or chosen - those children are pressed, upon threat of expulsion and exposure, to join the Hunt. 
- The Spencer Doctrine, founding law of the Shaman States of America.

Stefen and Maria Mauer were the fiercest and most famed Hunters in Tennessee. 

Until a lethal hunt left one man dead and Stefen without his legs.

They left the Hunt and never looked back. 

18 years later, their son Edward gets news from home - his mother is pregnant with twins. 

Three siblings of the same gender means they all have to Hunt or face monsters coming to their door. 

He wasn't raised in the Hunt, and no real desire to enter it. 

But Edward begins to see what life would be like if he takes up the mantle of the Hunters before him. 

But is he ready? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: The CKH Group
• Release date: Aug 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393403074

Chrishaun Keller-Hanna

Hello All, Chrishaun here! Welcome to Allazar! A place of beauty, danger, magic, and monsters.  This is the space where I want to have fun, write crazy stuff for the far edges of my imagination, while still looking at issues like oppression and struggle, where men and women can take on challenging roles. It’s my hope that you will understand my drive to create the magical space for adventure and that you’ll listen to and enjoy my words, these worlds, and thoughts. The Allazar Universe is big and there is room for you.  Meanwhile, on Earth, I live in the Great of Texas where I read, watch documentaries, podcast, and help my husband try to keep our cats from opening the Seventh Seal.

Book preview

Prologue

1981

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The sides of Stefan Mauer’s wheelchair smacked against walls of the hallway as he tried to navigate from the bedroom where his wife Maria lay screaming in agony. His reliance on the chair had been recent enough that he was still getting used to handling the thing. Cursing under his breath as he reversed the chair enough to make the turn, he cringed and looked back at her on their bed. Her already-dark hair, soaked with the sweat coursing down her brow, looked almost black where it lay across her face. Stefan threw a quick glance at the phone down the hall before looking back at the growing pool of wetness spreading between her legs.

Get yourself in gear, he muttered aloud, and focused on reaching the phone mounted on the wall of the kitchen.

Pushing with arms that had become stronger following his relatively recent transition to the damned chair, Stefan was able to make quick work of the distance between himself and his goal. Within seconds he was at the other end the hall and yanking the phone from its cradle.

His wife Maria had of course thought through all of this day’s possibilities and had scotch-taped a card with a number written on it to the immediate right of the phone. Stefan momentarily stared at the small holes that had been left in the cabinet when the phone had been lowered so he could more easily reach it shortly after the event that had cost him his legs. The cord was certainly long enough—and somehow managed to get its yellow coils tangled in the spokes of his chair on a regular basis—but they had needed to lower the cradle so that, newly crippled, he could get to the handset. The necessity of accommodations like that was a constant nagging frustration to him, but he had other things to focus on right now.

With clumsy fingers caused by his frantic state, Stefan punched the wrong buttons on the handset multiple times and had to re-dial the number written on the taped card that was now in his other hand. After what felt like an eternity in his panicked mind, he heard ringing and was able to breathe for first time since Maria’s first gut-wrenching cries.

After four or five rings, someone picked up and spoke in a sleepy voice. Hello? Who is this? What on earth time is it?

Dr. Michaels, it’s Stefan—Stefan Mauer. It’s Maria. I think she’s in labor. You’ve got to come deliver the baby. He didn’t even attempt to keep the panic out of his voice.

Labor, you say? The doctor’s voice immediately became alert. Did her water break, or is she in active labor? How far apart are her contractions, Stefan?

Stefan shook his head as though the doctor would be able to see it through the phone.

"I’ve got no idea how to answer that, Doctor. What I can say is that there is a puddle of something between my wife’s legs and she is screaming louder than anyone I have ever heard. His voice rose in volume as he spoke…until he looked down to where his legs had been. He took a hasty breath and continued in a lower tone, Sir, I can’t drive yet, and she sure as hell can’t either right now. It sounds like she is dying back there."

Thank you for waking me for this, the doctor said in a crisp but not uncaring tone. Call an ambulance, and I will meet you at the hospital for delivery.

Stefan took another breath to keep himself from screaming at the man. His nostrils flared in frustration, but he otherwise contained his agitation.

"You know the pitiful insurance The Judge offers won’t cover an ambulance ride, and I sure can’t pay for it. If we can’t do this thing here, you have to come get us. Otherwise this baby is coming on his own, and I’m the one who’ll help him into this world. And no one wants that to happen."

There was a pause while the doctor considered his options. Stefan heard the man take a deep breath.

I will be there within the next twenty minutes, Stefan. When I get there, we can decide if we have enough time to get her to the hospital.

Hurry, doc. Please, Stefan urged, and hung up the phone.

As he turned his wheelchair back around, Stefan’s eyes briefly rested on the fireplace in the living room of his and Maria’s one-story house. On its mantle lay a longsword. There had not been time to mount it in the last few months, but he planned to give it a proper place. He silently prayed it would never come down again.

Stefan stopped at the bathroom between the kitchen and his screaming wife to fill the glass they kept there with water. He placed it between his shortened legs and tried to keep it from sloshing as he maneuvered back to the bedroom. When he arrived, he was amazed at how beautiful her pale face was despite the sweat and pain on it. He rolled to her side and stopped to check that there was still water in the glass between his legs before he smoothed the dark hair away from her face. Holding her head gently, he coaxed her to swallow a little of the water.

Breathe, dear. In and ou— He was cut off by eyes twitching with rage and pain.

"I. Know. How. To. Breathe. Stefan. She punctuated each word with its own shallow breath, and his eyes widened at the accusation in her voice. Perhaps now was not the time to offer her advice. And where in the hell is Doctor Michaels?"

Stefan tried to smile at the woman who lay in front of him. It was the kind of smile you flashed at an angry pack of Worgs to show you weren’t a threat to them, but it didn’t work. Her glare maintained its intensity.

He’s on his way, dear. We’ll get you taken care of—you and the baby. He’ll be just fine.

The doctor arrived in twelve minutes by Stefan’s reckoning. While he appreciated the man’s celerity, the soon-to-be father felt like the wait had been interminable. Any wait was too long to get his wife the help she needed. When the doctor opened the front door, the glow from the streetlights lit the living room with a vaguely orange hue.

Stefan had been waiting by the doorway to their bedroom so he could see Maria and still hear the doctor’s knock. He frantically shouted for the doctor to enter, then maneuvered his chair to get back into the bedroom with the doctor right behind him.

Once Dr. Michaels got there Maria’s labor progressed quickly. He agreed that trying to get her to the hospital at that point might not be safe for the baby, so he had Stefan get whatever towels and hot water he could scrounge up.

Never mind what Stefan had faced as a Hunter; assisting in the delivery of his child was the most horrifying, gross, awe-inspiring, and beautiful thing he had ever experienced. All those emotions jumbled together, and made it difficult for this man who rarely cried to keep the tears from running down his cheeks. They started when he first saw the head crowning, and didn’t stop until the slimy lizard creature had been cleaned up and transformed into the most perfect baby boy he could have ever imagined.

The doctor wrapped the infant in the softest cloth Stefan had been able to find, which happened to be an oversized old t-shirt Maria would sometimes sleep in. The light blue of the shirt that swaddled him clashed garishly with Stefan’s red and yellow plaid button-up shirt, but that was outshone by the radiant miracle in his arms. He gently placed his son on his lap and gingerly rolled his wheelchair over to where Maria was lying exhausted. She opened her eyes and smiled weakly at the two men in her life as they came toward her. Their progress was slower than if Stefan were wheeling only himself since he stopped constantly to check that he was not jostling the infant.

When he finally made it to Maria he lifted his son toward her, and she carefully took him with an exhausted smile.

What are we going to call him? Stefan asked as Maria stared into her son’s eyes for the first time. Despite how weary she must have been, her eyes shone as she held her child in her arms.

Edward, she told Stefan without hesitation. We will name him after your father. Despite coming from a long line of Hunters, he will be the first of our family who will never have to Hunt.

Stefan smiled and nodded, which she did not see since she was preoccupied with their son.

That is perfect. He won’t ever have to deal with… He paused briefly and nodded to the still-bandaged stumps where his thighs abruptly ended. He won’t have to deal with this. I will make sure of it.

The doctor’s eyes went wide despite himself and locked with Stefan’s for a moment, the former feeling waves of judgment from the latter. Stefan was fully aware that stating with any degree of certainty that their newborn would never Hunt was going to be unpopular. Dr. Michaels knew about the trauma that had caused Stefan to lose his legs and understood the mental toll the Hunt had taken on him, but had not been aware of the Mauer family’s plans for their child.

I know, Stefan. I know. Maria managed to wrest her eyes from her son long enough to touch her husband’s arm. He turned to her, and her face glowed with a weary but genuine smile. The Hunter line of the Mauers ends with us.

The doctor gathered his things and mumbled something about the bill before hurrying out. News of the Mauers abandoning the Hunt would be everywhere before long, Stefan did not intend to keep quiet about their plans, and there would be a price to pay. He considered his stumps momentarily, thinking of the phantom sensations of his toes wiggling or itching that still sometimes plagued him. Losing a few friends due to Hunter politics was nothing compared to that.

And it was nothing compared to preventing that kind of trauma from happening to that tiny guy in Maria’s arms. No price would be too much to keep that child from the Hunt. Stefan smiled back at his wife and peered down at his son.

That’s right, Edward. You will never need to Hunt. No one from this family will ever have to endure that again.

1

1999

The black crate