The Streets of Li Syval

By Kenneth McDonald

This novella-length story is the first installment in a new series set within the “Forgotten Lore” world. Aris, Nails, and Ferret are three young people who have grown up in the poor South Docks district of the island city of Li Syval. The three must help each other to survive and succeed in a place where family connections are everything, and life for those without them is cheap and a constant struggle.
The Leconta are just one of the many middling houses that are constantly striving to make their way up toward the exalted ranks of the Fifty Families. Stefan Leconta, the young heir of the house, just wants to enjoy life and has no interest in taking on the responsibilities of his station. But both the Leconta and the three young friends from the city’s slums find themselves brushing up against a darker mystery hidden beneath the surface of the harsh world of Li Syval, one that combines magic and secrets to pose a threat that may endanger not just their lives, but the bond that holds them together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth McDonald
• Release date: Oct 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005581480

Kenneth McDonald

I am a retired education consultant who worked for state government in the area of curriculum. I have also taught American and world history at a number of colleges and universities in California, Georgia, and South Carolina. I started writing fiction in graduate school and never stopped. In 2010 I self-published the novella "The Labyrinth," which has had over 100,000 downloads. Since then, I have published more than fifty fantasy and science fiction books on Smashwords. My doctorate is in European history, and I live with my wife in northern California.

Book preview

Forgotten Lore

The Streets of Li Syval

Kenneth McDonald

[e-mail]

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2021 by Kenneth McDonald

Cover Credit: The cover image is adapted from The Port of Le Havre, by Claude Monet (1874). The image is in the public domain.

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Works by Kenneth McDonald

The Ogre at the Crossroads

Forgotten Lore

First Series

Secrets of a Lost Age

Warriors of Shadow

The Shattered Key

Mysteries of the Book

Second Series

The Road to Ironbridge

The Towers of Khormur-Dhain

Trouble on the Borderlands

The Horror in the Wood

Third Series

The Streets of Li Syval

The Secrets of Li Syval

The Graves Crew

The Graves Crew and the Restless Dead

The Graves Crew and the Damned Dam

The Graves Crew and the Firestar Amulet

The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest

The Graves Crew and the Mountain Fortress

The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

Refugees of the Crucible

Powerless

Overpowered

Balance of Power

Legacy of the Bulrazi

Power Play

Power Game

Soul Weapons

Wizard’s Shield

Soul of the Sword

Wizard’s Stone

Tales of the Soul Weapons

The Dwarf on the Mountain

Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Colors of Fate

Black Shadows Gather

Green Hearts Weep

Red Vengeance Rising

Faded Yellow Dreams

Blazing White Stars

Shiny Golden Schemes

Silent Gray Depths

The Colors of Fate, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Colors of Fate, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Mages of Sacreth

The Labyrinth

Of Spells and Demons

Grimm’s War

Grimm’s Loss

Grimm’s Love

Of Blood and Magic

Of Steel and Sorcery

The Godswar Trilogy

Paths of the Chosen

Choice of the Fallen

Fall of Creation

Daran’s Journey

Heart of a Hero

Soul of a Coward

Will of a Warrior

Courage of a Champion

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Prologue

STEFAN

Stefan woke up in a strange bed, next to a woman he didn’t know.

That state of affairs wasn’t that unusual, but he still felt vaguely unsettled, as though something unpleasant in a dream had followed him out into the waking world.

He looked around at his surroundings. The room was nice but not too nice; the furniture had that look of old money without that extra shine of extravagance that one found among the Fifty. The girl was probably like him, then, one of the next tier of Li Syval’s houses, always scrambling toward the top while trying to protect themselves from those below trying to do exactly the same.

He pushed himself up on one elbow and studied the woman. She was turned away from him, but the curve of bare shoulder was nice, the skin a slight dusky shade, perfect. She had dark hair that was cut fairly short, and when he lifted the sheet slightly, he could see that she was naked.

Now curious at the puzzle, he racked his brains trying to uncover a few clues from his tattered memory. He remembered setting out last night with a few of his friends, young men like him from the sub-Fifty set. They were going to try out a new pop-up club in a converted warehouse in the upper Bridges. He vaguely remembered seeing some people smoking husk; he normally didn’t partake, but perhaps the girl had convinced him. That could explain the hole in his memory. The funny thing was, he didn’t have a headache or any of the other usual consequences of a carouse; he actually felt fairly well rested and refreshed.

After taking another moment to appreciate the bounty before him, he decided to take matters into his own hands and touched the sleeping girl on the shoulder. Good morning, he said.

The girl stirred instantly. She pushed herself up and looked at him. She was pretty, if not quite beautiful; certainly in the dark and confused atmosphere of a club she could have easily caught his attention. If indeed he’d been the one doing the catching, he thought, as the dark eyes pierced him with an intense look.

Um, hi, he said. I’m sorry, I, ah, forgot your name…

He trailed off as she got up out of the bed, distracting him with another look at her nicely-curved body, and grabbed a robe from an open armoire nearby. Get out, she said.

Hey, wait a second, he said. It seems like we had a pretty good time last night. Maybe over a cup of coffee, we could get reacquainted…

He gave her one of his best smiles as he spoke. It usually had a predictable effect upon women, but it bounced off this one like an arrow shot at a steel shield. Look, she said. You were… marginally entertaining, but I’m finished with you and I have a lot to do today. So be on your way, or I’ll call some of my men and have you thrown out, perhaps a bit the worse for wear.

He got up out of the bed, a little angry now. He found his shirt lying on the floor, and snatched it up. He looked around, and after a moment he saw his pants on the back of a nearby chair, his boots visible beneath it and an adjacent desk. You know, your hospitality leaves something to be desired.

She ignored him and continued dressing. She opened the robe to pull on some smallclothes and then breeches, completely unselfconscious. He found himself looking over again despite himself, then bent to grab his boots. As he did something shifted atop the desk, and when he stood, he saw that it was a design of some sort, a painted sigil that had been covered by a leather folio. Curious, he pulled it out. It showed what looked like a set of stylized towers, and above them a well-done depiction of a dragon, its claws outstretched as if to seize something.

Hey, is this your house sigil? I don’t recognize it… but there’s something familiar in this design.

The folder snapped shut, tearing the art from his grasp, and he looked up to see the woman standing there, a furious look on her face. Hey, no need to get upset, he said, lifting his hands to placate her—or maybe defend himself; she almost looked like she was going to strike him.

But the fury in those eyes was quickly replaced by an iron control; he recognized the shift, having seen it often enough in his mother. But that semblance changed as the intense gaze drew him in. For a moment he felt as if he was falling into those eyes, like pools at the bottom of a tall cliff. He felt a moment’s panic, but there was nothing he could do to escape whatever was happening to him.

Stefan blinked. The sunlight was dazzling, blinding him. He lifted a hand to shade his eyes from the light, confused.

He was standing on the side porch of an old manor house. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was, but he could tell it was somewhere on Council Hill from the familiar sounds and smells on the air. It was Tenthday morning. That’s right, he remembered he and his friends setting out for a night on the town on the eve of the week-end. But how he got to this place…

He heard a laugh, and realized that he was half-naked, with his pants tucked under one arm and his boots clutched in that hand. He had his shirt on, but it was one of the new styles, not quite long enough to grant him his modesty. This side of the house abutted a side street that was, if not quite one of the main boulevards that ran through the district, populated by at least some early-morning traffic. A few more people stopped to watch as he stood there.

He waved and put on a wry smile, as if this sort of thing was just one of those things that happened, then pulled on his trousers and stamped his feet into his boots. Once dressed he made his way out onto the street, giving the audience another exaggerated sweep of his hand, like a street performer accepting his kudos. He waited until he was well clear of anyone who might have seen him before he picked up his pace, looking for familiar landmarks that would guide him home.

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Chapter 1

Excerpt from The Account of Nelsunias Felar

I’m no writer. I don’t know how to tell a fancy tale, and before we met, I would have been hard pressed to write much more than my name. But you said you wanted the true story of what happened, so I’ll give it to you as best I can. That’s the least I can do, after all you’ve done for me.

It all started the day that Riva came to get us. Aris, Ferret, and I were running a con on a small but potentially juicy fish, just some guy that Aris had noticed in the Veterans’ Market a few days before. I wasn’t there for the early stages, for obvious reasons. But I had no doubt that Ferret would get him there. She was good at that part, baiting the hook, making the mark feel like it was his idea.

I was starting to have my doubts about the whole business. It wasn’t the ethics of it—another word I only learned after I met you—but something else. Usually, the fish we targeted had plenty to spare, and many of them were assholes to boot. He’s not important, but it is where all the other stuff began, and I want anyone who reads this later to know who we were. What we were, and why we did what we did.

Anyway, we’d chosen an out-of-the-way spot where we wouldn’t be likely to be interrupted. Aris picked it, along with a few quick ways out, since we hadn’t cleared this with the local boss beforehand. That wasn’t exactly a way to make friends, but while we weren’t starving, we weren’t bringing in a lot of coin either. So we did a lot of jobs like this one, a quick grab-and-go.

I can almost hear you saying, Get to the point, Nelsunias. Sorry. Okay. So I was just coming into the picture at this point, when Riva intervened. I have no idea how she tracked us down; she had a gift for that sort of thing. It was exactly the wrong moment, in terms of the job. Aris, playing the angry older brother, had confronted the mark, and voices were being raised, while Ferret stood there looking upset. She did that very well, and I felt a small lurch in my chest when I saw her, even though I knew it was an act. I’d come along at just the right moment, as the guy was starting to reach for his rapier.

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