Doors: Six Short Stories: A Gaggle of Stories, #1

By Katharina Gerlach

Six short stories by Writers of the Future Semi-Finalist Katharina Gerlach
 
Doors are useful. Close them to keep people out. Open them to let someone in. Or step through … into another world.

 

His music condemns a young musician to death on a pyre.
Katlani's plans of revenge crumble around her when her goddess interferes.
To save her father, a young woman must face the danger of doors that take her anywhere.
A disabled phoenix must rekindle his flames or die forever.
To save herself and those she loves from death for being different, a young woman must find the City of Many Worlds.
A bereaved tyrant faces loneliness if he doesn't atone for his actions.

 

In these six portal stories, Katharina shows people at a crossroads. Their actions lead them to a literal or fictional door where they're faced with an impossible choice. Writers of the Future judge Dave Farland told Katharina, "Your writing is excellent and you pulled me in from the start."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Independent Bookworm
• Release date: Apr 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9783956811548

Katharina Gerlach

Katharina Gerlach was born in Germany in 1968. She and her three younger brothers grew up in the middle of a forest in the heart of the Luneburgian Heather. After romping through the forest with imagination as her guide, the tomboy learned to read and disappeared into magical adventures, past times, or eerie fairytale woods. She didn’t stop at reading. During her training as a landscape gardener, she wrote her first novel, a manuscript full of a beginner’s mistakes. Fortunately, she found books on Creative Writing and soon her stories improved. For a while, reality interfered with her writing but after finishing a degree in forestry and a PhD in Science she returned to her vocation. She likes to write Fantasy, Science Fiction and Historical Novels for all age groups. At present, she is writing at her next project in a small house near Hildesheim, Germany, where she lives with her husband, her children and her dog.

Book preview

Introduction

Over the last few years, I've written many short stories, some to a theme, some for a specific magazine, and some just for fun. The interesting thing is that I never got around to actually publish these stories. I shopped a few around to the biggest magazines, where a few were optioned and/or published, and then forgot about them.

When another author urged me into a publishing challenge, I suddenly rediscovered all these stories. Upon re-reading them, I found they still hold up to my standard. Yes, I did learn new things and would have written them differently these days, but the voice is there and they're still fun to read.

My editor then suggested to round out the first story because he felt sorry for one character. I thought it through and decided that the character needed his very own story. Therefore you'll find a brand-new-never-seen-before-story at the end of this eBook.

So without further ado, here are the first few short stories. More will come as the year progresses. I very much hope you'll enjoy them. If you do, please leave a review.

Of Pyres and Peace

When I entered our two room residence, Grandma turned away from the oak table dominating our main room. Stop whistling, Marc.

I obeyed immediately, and the birds that had followed me home, whistling along with my happiness, stopped their singing and flew away.

Gran reached out and stroked my cheek. Remember what they did to all those musicians? Like the fiddler and the flute player? And the man who made wind chimes before that?

As if I could evade the smell of burnt meat still hanging in the streets of our little town. My happiness dissipated. Why did I always ignore the law prohibiting music? I knew how dangerous that was. Still, the rhythm in my blood kept overriding my caution, especially when I had good news. I forced a smile.

The merchant is going to take us to the kingdom beyond the mountains if we're at the crossroads at dawn tomorrow. I kissed Gran's cheek.

I'm afraid to go. She sat on one of the two chairs at the plain wooden table. It wasn't as if we'd leave a lot behind. There wasn't much furniture besides the table and its chairs, just a row of shelves and the open fireplace with its pothook. The dried herbs, the food, the dishes, the few books, and the pans and pots hanging from the ceiling could be packed in no time. It'd be no problem to carry what little we owned to the crossroads tonight.

Why can't we just stay? Life isn't too bad here if only you could keep from singing and whistling. The worry lines on Gran's face contorted into a frown. All of a sudden she looked far older than her threescore years.

I long to feel the power of my song ripple through my veins. Willing her to understand, I crouched before her and took her hands.

She nodded. I understand, but where will we live? We have no relatives anywhere, and I will never live as a traveler again. It wouldn't be the same without… Her voice trailed off, and we both remembered the tragic accident that killed my parents and moored us here.

I'll find a way, I said, and blinked away tears. I went back to the door, took off my shoes, walked through the main room to my little chamber in the back and slipped out of my work clothes and into something more comfortable. We weren't rich, so I was lucky to have a second set of clothes. It would be really horrible to spend the evening in sweaty clothes. I washed my face and hands and returned to the main room, where I shook off the sadness and forced myself to smile. I will go to the forest to collect some raspberries. They will be a nice treat after dinner, I lied, taking Gran's hands.

It was no use. She saw through me like through glass. It was her special talent and the reason why I always had to stand up for the stupid things I did as a youth, regardless the penalty.

Are you seeing her again?

It will be the last time. I squeezed her hands. It hurt to acknowledge the pact I'd made with the love of my life, and there was a dirge playing in the back of my mind. I told her we'd be leaving soon, and she agreed to forget about me. For her father's sake.

Gran sighed and freed her hands. If only it weren't for the prophecy…

We can't change the way things are in this kingdom. I stood straighter, trying to force the dirge into something more upbeat. But we can leave it and start new somewhere else. I'm a talented carpenter. Surely there'll be work for me someplace else. My last sentence twisted my heart so much it felt like I ripped it apart. I did not want to flee the kingdom, not without Lina. As I left the house, I saw that Gran didn't believe my words at all.

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I heard Lina's weeping before I reached our secret clearing, and hurried to get to her. The drumming of my blood and her sobs mixed to the saddest melody ever. I sank into the grass beside my princess and took her hands.

That bad? I leaned my forehead against hers.

The midwife confirmed my suspicions. It's the third month. Her voice was so low, it was hard to make out.

Part of me wanted to grab her and Gran and run as far away as possible. The other part was singing in harmony with my heartbeat. I'm going to be a father. My voice wobbled a little, hinting at the melodious excitement inside.

Lina shook her head. Not if Father finds out who you are. He'll sentence you to death without proof, claiming you're a musician, or a magician. Or both.

Everyone knew how determinedly the king hunted musicians. He had vowed on his wife's deathbed to keep his daughter safe from the musician who was prophesied to magic her away. He'd be delighted to see me burn.

Let's run away. You, Gran and me. We can get married in another kingdom, and I can become a real father.

Oh, Marc. Her arms closed around my neck, and her sweet lips pressed against mine. Fire ran through my veins, and I felt like I could take on the world. But we didn't have time to linger if Lina was coming with Gran and me after all. We'd have to hide in the woods until the merchant showed up. I eased out of her kiss reluctantly.

Let's go, I whispered.

Will you sing us a song, just this once? Her eyes were so pleading, how could I refuse? And we were far from the castle and the town. We should be safe enough.

So I placed my hands on her belly and felt the small bump through her loose clothes. Not much longer and she wouldn't be able to hide it any more. I found a tune and made up words encouraging our child to grow, no matter what hardships we faced. Surely the king would kill it if he caught us, so I tied its tiny life to mine and to Lina's. As long as either of us lived, our child would be protected. The warmth of my hands seeped into my loved ones as I sang, and for the first time in my life I realized there was real power in my music. Would it be strong enough to create a door for us, leading to a place like this in a forest far, far away? If Gran had been with us, I would have tried. Instead, I kept singing for Lina's pleasure and the well-being of our