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Light of the Outsider: The Shaper's World Cycle, #1
Light of the Outsider: The Shaper's World Cycle, #1
Light of the Outsider: The Shaper's World Cycle, #1
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Light of the Outsider: The Shaper's World Cycle, #1

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In this stand-alone character-driven fantasy thriller debuting a brand-new, original world, desperate people vie to find a kidnapped prince before magical and political pressures threaten the stability of the entire continent and millions of lives.

"The invitation was a trap..."

For menial palace servants Sot and Lama, the infant prince represents a means to finally escape their disappointing, stagnant lives... and each other.

The tavernkeep, Kug, is torn between duty to his family and the fate of the realm, not to mention the very real chance that all choices lead to personal ruin.

The sellsong, Talen, hides paralyzing survivor's guilt beneath brash exuberance. If he can rescue the infant prince, will he find the resolve to restore his family name and his own sense of worth?

Dennick, the sellsword with compromised loyalties, faces an impossible choice -- save the prince, or save the love of his life? Either way... will he lose everything that matters, not least himself?

Rajen is the gifted practitioner of a forbidden magickal art, forced to keep her true self hidden. The forking future holds many paths for her... will she follow the road to her future freedom, and at what cost?

And even if this disparate, desperate bunch achieve their objectives... Wresting their prize from the foul forces of a nefarious, reality-threatening plot and bringing him back alive are two different things...

 

In LIGHT OF THE OUTSIDER...

 

Is there magic? You bet!

Crime? The whole thing's set off by a vile act. A few, in fact.

Violence? Yes. Sudden, brutal, and final.

Intrigue? Sure! The fates of a child, a city, an empire, and maybe an entire world are at stake.

LIGHT OF THE OUTSIDER is a character-driven low fantasy with a touch of noir and just a hint of cosmic horror oozing between the cracks, as if George R. R. Martin ("Game of Thrones") and James Ellroy ("L. A. Confidential") had a literary love child and left the squawking sport on a filthy altar in the woods to be discovered... by you!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMWS Media
Release dateJun 18, 2020
ISBN9798201202491
Light of the Outsider: The Shaper's World Cycle, #1

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    Book preview

    Light of the Outsider - Matthew Wayne Selznick

    Part One

    Chapter One

    Sot

    The invitation was a trap.

    The fact of it made Sot jittery with excitement and anxiety in equal parts.

    Especially when he thought of his role in the scheme.

    It was Lama's idea to involve Vadi. Sot didn't mind at all. If pressed, he might even admit to being grateful, though the cost was Lama drawing attention to his guarded glee more than once.

    Let her take credit for that small part of the plan. It was still Sot himself Lama had to thank for the opportunity.

    He was the one the magicker had approached. He was the one with the courage to accept the offer.

    Thanks to Sot, their lives would soon, at last, and finally, change.

    And what a change it would be. So far beyond any of their own thwarted, stillborn ambitions.

    His shoulders tensed as if expecting a blow. Even safely voiced in the dark and private space behind his own forehead, that was a poor choice of words.

    Guilt and shame, unwanted and undeserved, tightened his gut. His face must have betrayed him, for, looking past Vadi's bare, pale, smooth shoulder, Lama caught his eye and sent him the barest scowl.

    He bobbed his head just enough to signal that he got the message.

    Now was not the time for wandering off the path.

    They had a task.

    Pardon, Vadi, he said.

    Vadi, perched with her infallible grace on one of Sot and Lama's only two stools, scooted to make way for him as he carefully squeezed between the table and the foot of the bed.

    Her voice was light and only a little over-loud from the essa she'd imbibed. Do you want to sit down, Sot? I don't need—

    Sot waved a meaty hand and shook his broad head. Nah. I can sit on the bed. The wooden frame creaked beneath the straw-stuffed sleeping pad as he did so. You're our guest, after all.

    Vadi's smile was full of big, bright teeth behind lips enticingly too full for her narrow face, which somehow still seemed unblemished and smooth as ever.

    Sot had more broken molars than not. Lama's own teeth were a yellow and brown wall held behind thinning lips that rarely parted from laughter or joy.

    When Lama did attempt a grin free of sarcasm or scorn, as with the expression she cast at Vadi now, it was as if rough, unseen fingers tugged her cheeks toward her ears in an exercise unrelated to intention.

    Lama said, A guest absent too long. We're so glad you came to see us, Vadi.

    Sot wondered if Lama deliberately tried to sound like palace folk. Vadi was born of the Shadow District just like the two of them. Did Lama hope to impress her?

    Sot watched as Vadi blushed and lowered her eyes, suddenly fascinated by the mug of essa in her hands.

    Truth, Lama. Their long-estranged, oldest friend's voice came low and breathy. I thought you never wanted to speak to me again. Vadi looked up at Sot through long, thick eyelashes. And you, Sot. After so much time; with so much grown between us…

    He knew it was appropriate, even necessary, that he should reply.

    He was too distracted by how much of her beauty she'd managed to maintain, while he and Lama were chipped and stained like their meager flatware; creaking and rough as their loveless bed.

    Too slow.

    Lama shrugged and spoke for him.

    Sot and I… we realized you're more important to us than anyone else. More than any… thing else.

    Well, thought Sot, not everything. No denying Vadi held great value for them this particular night.

    Vadi moved to put her mug on the small table, but the plate of meat and bread (scraps from Lama's mothersbrother’s tavern, and not from today, either, though Vadi need not know that) and the big earthen jug of essa left no room.

    Lama took up the jug. There y'go. She bent and put it on the floor at her feet.

    Thank you. Vadi put her mug down and took Lama's hands in her own. I hope you believe me. I never thought things would happen as they did.

    She squeezed Lama's hands, large and square and barely contained in the tiny cage of Vadi's slender fingers. Never, she said again. I thought…

    She shook her head. Her thin eyebrows gathered on her brow. Sot's gaze was drawn to the way her hair shone in the unsteady lantern light. How often did they let her wash it? With what, that it glowed so?

    Vadi sighed. I didn't know how things work. You think you can make every path come together, but then you're there and in it, and…

    Her eyes glittered. Sot realized she was drunk.

    At last.

    Vadi blinked and smiled faintly. Her head dipped. It's not how I thought it would be.

    Lama retrieved the jug to top off Vadi's mug. Sot was pleased to see her drink from it immediately.

    Vadi, he said. Vadi! You're not to blame for rough roads. Even as a sharp bark of laughter dropped from his mouth, he worried it betrayed too much bitterness; too many years of regret.

    Besides, he said, life on the palace staff isn't anything like how us yardies live. He looked to Lama for support.

    Lama's grin was just a little stale and hard as she arranged the table to make room for the jug. No yard dust in your throat, she chided. Your clothes… She sniffed the air dramatically. I don't smell laundry water! Sot, can you smell laundry water?

    Sot snorted delicately as he could manage. I can't.

    She nodded sharply. Just what's soaked and dried on your own sorry clothes, and mine. And her fingers! She turned Vadi's palms up. Look, Sot! Her fingertips are pink, and not wrinkled at all!

    Like a baby, Sot deadpanned. He just couldn’t help himself.

    Vadi's eyes went wide. She looked quickly at Lama, who seemed unaffected by Sot’s undeniably boorish comment.

    Had this been any other night, Lama would have let fly with a volley of prickly insults and degradations ready-made to pierce his pride.

    Tonight was different.

    Tonight, there was the plan.

    Lama had no choice but to play her part.

    She did.

    Speaking of babies, she gushed, Vadi, share with us: do you see Ranith? Do you get to help the nursemaids care for him? What's Alwarden Deanae like with her son?

    Vadi's apparent relief rushed from her with laughter. So many questions! Lama, it's not like that. I'm not allowed that close to Ranith. The Alwardendyn don't really… I don't get to do anything like that.

    Lama pouted. No? After so long? I would have thought you to practically be Deanae's left hand by now!

    Vadi rolled her eyes. I tell you, Lama, life inside the palace is not as you think. It's… it isn’t like any of us thought when we were children.

    Sot tilted his head and shifted so he could look at Vadi directly. Oh?

    Oh, no.

    Vadi gulped from her mug. Sot glanced at Lama, whose pleasant facade looked to be slipping. It was his turn to bring her back with a pointed look.

    Vadi didn't seem to notice their silent exchange.

    I'll tell you, she said. My chamber ward… his name is Glin, you may have seen him? Tall and bent over like an old tree on the seashore?

    Sot and Lama shrugged.

    Lama said neutrally, We don't have many chances to see you palace folk, most days. She appeared to sip from her mug, but Sot saw that she only brought the essa to her lips, not beyond.

    Sot said, Or the seashore.

    Vadi laughed. Oh, well, who does?

    Sot laughed agreeably while he thought about it. From the palace tower windows, perhaps, one could glimpse the sea, and not just the sluggish soup lapping at the docks beyond the Shadow District, either.

    Anyway, Vadi said, Glin is not kind. Her cheer seemed to waver a bit. Not kind. Not to my mother, and not to me.

    Sot's mind gifted him with a memory of when a palace guard, walking along the top of the wall near the launderer's warren on the edge of the yard, spit on Sot's bare head.

    Not with malice, though the ranks of the guard had offered him plenty of deliberate offense over the last eight years.

    Worse.

    With no thought at all.

    That was yesterday morning.

    Really? Sot battled to relax the smile on his face before it rotted into a sneer. What's the worst thing this Glin's done?

    He scolds us all the time, Vadi said. Calls us shadow snipes.

    Lama said, Well, though, Vadi… it's what we are, right? What we always will be, no matter what. Remember the fun we had as girls, running around the District and getting into all kinds of trouble?

    Sot nodded and laughed. Your Glin would probably be robbed in a blink if he ever stepped foot in the Shadow. Or worse!

    Vadi pouted. He turned the rest of the staff against us, right from the start.

    Sot looked at Lama, who was, if he knew his heartfast mate at all, fighting hard to keep cold satisfaction from her face.

    Still, he ventured, you sleep in a softer bed than when you were one of us yard folk. Your meals are hot, I'd wager. How bad could it be?

    She looked at him with the hard-fought, deliberate stare of a fresh drunk.

    Soft, but lonely, that bed. She turned to Lama. We did have fun, didn't we? And once Sot came along..? She raised her mug to her lips and drank deep, but never took her eyes off Lama. I've missed the two of you so much, and the fun we had.

    We should honor that time, Lama said, and celebrate our reunion. We've missed you, too, Vadi.

    Sot stood up and stepped behind Vadi. He put his hands on her smooth shoulders and squeezed affectionately.

    And firmly.

    Just enough to keep her seated as Lama leaned across the table and kissed her.

    His precaution was unnecessary. Vadi returned Lama's kiss even as she reached back to seek out Sot’s meaty upper thigh.

    Lama broke the kiss and sat back on her stool, watching Vadi. Sot moved his hands to Vadi's forearms, then gently eased her off the stool and to her feet.

    Vadi pressed her back against Sot. How many long years since he'd felt another body's willing heat? His flesh well remembered her own.

    Vadi made a noise low in her throat and raised her arms so Sot could pull her shift over her head, and off.

    So long..! Vadi giggled.

    Sot noted the braided cord around Vadi's neck. He saw Lama's eyes widen, confirming that the key was, indeed, hanging from that loop.

    He felt a rush of relief that fueled his confidence like a bellows to a flame. If Vadi hadn't bothered to wear the key, he and Lama would have had to resort to a far more desperate and risky second plan that, despite everything, Sot had dreaded.

    Vadi seemed to think her nakedness inspired the hunger on Lama's face, and not without cause. Had their former friend not aged at all?

    Vadi leaned back against Sot and purred, What about you, Lama?

    Soon. Lama stood up and took her hands. And when I do disrobe, you can show me everything you've learned behind the palace walls. She directed her to the bed.

    Vadi stumbled on her own feet and fell on the lumpy, coarse, sleeping pad. Concern crossed her face for a blink, and then she laughed. "Woooo! I forgot… Kug's essa is strong!"

    Lama kneeled next to the bed. My mothersbrother brings us together once again. She swept Vadi's long hair away from her slender neck and licked below her ear, then traced her jaw with kisses until Vadi moved to meet her mouth with her own.

    Sot untied the drawstring of his trousers and let them pool at his feet, where they'd serve as thin padding between his tired knees and the cold floor. Better than nothing. He yanked off his tunic, kneeled at the foot of the bed, and put his lips on Vadi's ankle.

    His kisses led him to her gate, which he parted with his tongue.

    Vadi bucked and moaned. He put a heavy hand on her flat belly and held her there while he got re-acquainted with once-familiar territory.

    Vadi gripped Sot's fuzzy, patchy scalp with both hands and pushed his face into her groin. He had to strain to look up Vadi's body, where Lama once again focused her attention on Vadi's neck and ears. They both knew how sensitive she was.

    Lama nudged the cord around Vadi's neck with her nose and gave a mild grunt of frustration. Vadi took one hand off Sot's head and touched the wooden key on her chest.

    Lama's voice was rough and husky in a way Sot had not heard in years.

    It's in my way…

    Three words rode the sharp exhalations breaking from Vadi's open mouth. Can't… take… off…

    Lama started to remove the key and its cord from around Vadi's neck. Vadi pushed the back of her own head against the sleeping pad. Lama gave Sot an imploring look.

    Sot was ready. He found Vadi's little gatekeeper and sucked, even as he put two fingers inside her.

    Vadi's head lifted; her body twisting against Sot's restraining hand even as she gripped his head with her left hand and slapped the sleeping pad with her right.

    Sot looked up again. Lama pulled the cord away from Vadi and deftly put it in the pocket of her shift.

    She said to Vadi, Don't worry. It's right next to the bed.

    Vadi nodded quickly, eyes tightly closed. She tilted her head and opened her mouth, seeking. Lama kissed her.

    Sot returned his full attention to his efforts. He'd need to move on soon, both for the sake of the plan and for the benefit of his creaking branch, which was painfully pressed against the edge of the bed. He needed the warm, close sanctuary beyond Vadi's gate.

    He felt Lama standing up, so he took that as his signal to slide up the bed.

    As he did so, Vadi said to Lama, Getting naked..?

    Lama took her coat from a peg on the back of the door and slipped it on. "Too much essa. I need to open the valve. She bent down and kissed her. I'll be back."

    Sot, propped above Vadi with his mouth on her ear, let his branch tease her gate with twitching strokes. Let's stay busy…

    Vadi's hands roamed across his shoulders, down his back, and across his ass. Sot felt a flash of deep self-consciousness: there was so much more of him, and all of it softer, than the last time the three of them had played like this.

    She didn't seem to care. Eyes still closed, she kissed him—her tongue was small and strong and hot—and, reaching down between them, guided him through her gate.

    As her warmth engulfed him, Sot was vaguely aware of the door opening and closing.

    Lama was away.

    Vadi slid around him deliciously.

    This was a wonderful plan.

    Chapter Two

    Lama

    The silent, narrow launderer's warren was dimly lit by a few glowglobes. It was well after curfew and everyone's doors were closed.

    Lama padded to the outer door and unlatched it with care. Palace yard staff were allowed into the yard after curfew to drain the valve, so she had that ready excuse if she needed it. So much the better if no one knew she was out of their apartment at all.

    Fortunately, Vadi had always been a loud one. Maeg and Jaf and everyone else in the adjacent apartments would think Lama, Sot, and their guest were occupied with each other and in for the evening. As there were few secrets in the close quarters the launderers shared, it wouldn't take long tomorrow for the entire warren to believe it, too.

    By then, Lama and Sot would be gone.

    But first, Lama had to cross the palace yard.

    And then.

    And then.

    She checked the pockets of her shift. There was Vadi's precious key. And there, wrapped in an oiled skin, was the special square of foul-scented cloth the magicker had given Sot.

    She had everything she needed.

    Blood pounded in her skull. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, exhaled slowly through her nose…

    Opened her eyes

    Opened the door.

    The launderer's warren was built right up against the wall, nearly as far from the palace as could be to keep the acrid odor of detergents and solvents out of the delicate noses of the Alwardendyn and company. It still seemed a short stroll by the light of day.

    By night, it was a vast expanse with few opportunities for cover.

    Lama closed the door behind her and glanced up and over her shoulder to the top of the wall ten stride above the warren roof.

    No guards patrolled. At least, not here, now.

    She stepped away from the warren; took another step, and another. Even as a desperate tension between her shoulder blades screamed for her to turn around, to confirm that she was not (or was!) being watched… she continued on.

    Nearly lost in the pale grey reflected light from the canopy of flat clouds overhead was the unremarkable wooden door at the base of the north tower, her destination.

    No farther than any other time.

    No farther than when she delivered laundry to the palace staff waiting there, so many times in the last decade.

    So far away tonight. As far as salvation was near.

    She kept her eyes on the door, as best she could, and her focus on the soft shushing of her sandaled feet against the packed earth of the yard.

    There was nowhere to go but forward.

    She ground her teeth. She had been standing still for eight years. Standing still, or falling back.

    There was nowhere to go but forward.

    Earlier today, thinking about the walk to come, she noted the tall stack of hay bales about a third of the way between the launderers' warren and the tower. It was just ahead now.

    A beckoning black patch of shadow pooled there. She made for it.

    Not twelve stride from the shelter of darkness, Lama saw a small figure emerge from that shadow.

    Lama stopped cold with an automatic, superstitious dread she quickly suppressed. This was no nightfaien or flitething skulking around the palace yard.

    It was a child, surely.

    A little girl.

    Lama quickly crossed the space between them. It was Sepi, Tala's daughter, born two years after Lama and Sot had come to work behind the palace wall, and still too young to do much more than play with her pet twighopper and be underfoot.

    Of course, Sepi knew Lama on sight. The little girl seemed relieved to see her, even if her eyes went wide when Lama took her by her bony wrist and quickly almost dragged her back to the concealing shadow of the hay bales.

    Sepi, Lama snapped through clenched teeth. You know better than to be out in the yard at night. What are you doing?

    From somewhere outside of herself, Lama worked a bleak calculus. Before the girl could answer the first question, Lama had another, with which she hoped to assign value to a very important variable.

    Does your mother know you're not in your bed? Does anyone?

    Sepi glanced at Lama's tight fingers wrapped around her arm, and tugged.

    Lama relaxed her grip slightly, but did not let go.

    It was very difficult to keep the rage out of her voice.

    I'm not angry with you, Sepi.

    She would not be stopped. Not like this.

    Why are you out in the yard after curfew, all alone?

    Sepi seemed defiant, even if her face was flush and her eyes wet. She kept her voice down, which told Lama the little girl knew she was doing something wrong, and feared discovery by anyone else. That was good.

    Valoo, she whispered. He got out!

    Her pet.

    Lama crouched down so she could look Sepi in the eyes. She maintained the grip on her tiny arm.

    This is important, Sepi. Very important. Did Kala say you could run around in the yard after dark and look for Valoo?

    Sepi looked at her dirty bare feet.

    No.

    Did anyone tell you not to come out here?

    Nobody knows. Sepi raised her eyes and looked around, obviously hoping to

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