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    Gathering of Shadows: Collections, #13
    Gathering of Shadows: Collections, #13
    Gathering of Shadows: Collections, #13
    Ebook265 pages3 hours

    Gathering of Shadows: Collections, #13

    By Meyari McFarland

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    About this ebook

    Darkness abounds, creeping into the corners and sweeping over all life, all hope, all freedom.

    In Gathering of Shadows, Meyari McFarland explores the dark corners of the heart, mind and reality in ways that will haunt you after you put the book down.

    Stars Drifting Every Upwards

    The Widow's War

    Jade Claws

    The Lived Glory

    Bottling the Cold, Hard Heart

    Midwife to Divinity

    Darkness Rising

    Out of the Tower

    Shifting Towers of Fire

    Another Path to Infinity

    Also includes an excerpt of the chilling Steampunk Mystery Emerald Blast!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMeyari McFarland
    Release dateMar 23, 2019
    ISBN9781386841333
    Gathering of Shadows: Collections, #13
    Author

    Meyari McFarland

    Meyari McFarland has been telling stories since she was a small child. Her stories range from SF and Fantasy adventures to Romances but they always feature strong characters who do what they think is right no matter what gets in their way. Her series range from Space Opera Romance in the Drath series to Epic Fantasy in the Mages of Tindiere world. Other series include Matriarchies of Muirin, the Clockwork Rift Steampunk mysteries, and the Tales of Unification urban fantasy stories, plus many more. You can find all of her work on MDR Publishing's website at www.MDR-Publishing.com.

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      Book preview

      Gathering of Shadows - Meyari McFarland

      Gathering of Shadows

      Gathering of Shadows

      Collection #13

      Meyari McFaralnd

      MDR Publishing

      Special Offer

      The rainbow has infinite shades, just as this collection covers the spectrum of fictional possibilities.

      From contemporary romances like The Shores of Twilight Bay to dark fantasy like A Lone Red Tree and out to SF futures in Child of Spring, Iridescent covers the gamut of time, space and genre.

      Meyari McFarland shows her mastery in this first omnibus collection of her short fiction. Twenty-five amazing stories, all with queer characters going on adventures, solving mysteries, and falling in love are here in the first Rainbow Collection.

      And now you can get this massive collection of short queer fiction, all of it with the happy endings you love, for free!

      Sign up here for your free copy of Iridescent now!

      Contents

      Other Books by Meyari McFarland:

      Author's Note: Stars Drifting Ever Upwards

      Stars Drifting Ever Upwards

      Author's Note: The Widow's War

      The Widow's War

      Author's Note: Jade Claws

      Jade Claws

      Author's Note: The Lived Glory

      The Lived Glory

      Author's Note: Bottling the Cold, Hard Heart

      1.

      2.

      3.

      4.

      Author's Note: Midwife to Divinity

      1. Cold Comfort

      2. Shadow Traps

      3. Dark Doom

      4. Baby God

      5. Midwife Spells

      Author's Note: Darkness Rising

      Darkness Rising

      Author's Note: Out of the Tower

      1. Spider

      2. Mansion

      3. Heir

      Author's Note: Shifting Towers of Fire

      Shifting Towers of Fire

      Author's Note: Another Path to Infinity

      1. Loss

      2. Memories

      3. Sanctuary

      4. Family

      5. Return

      6. New Life

      Author's Note: Emerald Blast

      1. Suicide Mission

      2. Status Report

      Other Books by Meyari McFarland:

      Afterword

      Author Bio

      Other Books by Meyari McFarland:

      Day Hunt on the Final Oblivion

      Day of Joy

      Immortal Sky

      A New Path

      Following the Trail

      Crafting Home

      Finding a Way

      Go Between

      Like Arrows of Fate

      Out of Disaster

      The Shores of Twilight Bay

      Coming Together

      Following the Beacon

      The Solace of Her Clan

      You can find these and many other books at www.MDR-Publishing.com. We are a small independent publisher focusing on LGBT content. Please sign up for our mailing list to get regular updates on the latest preorders and new releases and a free ebook!

      Copyright ©2019 by Mary Raichle

      Print ISBN: 978-1-64309-046-7

      Cover image

      ID 118610481 © Branislav Ostojic | Dreamstime.com

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

      Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be emailed to publisher@mdr-publishing.com.

      This book is also available in TPB format from all major retailers.

      Created with Vellum Created with Vellum

      This collection is dedicated to my husband, yet again.

      Author's Note: Stars Drifting Ever Upwards

      There are few furies as dangerous as a lover who's turned against you. In a world where magic exists, love takes on new levels of fear. And betrayal comes with a price far higher than one might expect.

      Stars Drifting Ever Upwards

      Gisela paused, one foot planted on a fallen log, the other buried in a mound of long brown pine needles. The rough bark of the pine scraped against her bare sole, as rough as a rasp despite the wet dragging her hair down over her eyes. The forest was quiet, nothing but the sound of water dripping, dripping, endlessly dripping from moss-covered branches and drooping bunches of needles as long as her hand.

      If it were summer, if things were different, Gisela would stoop and gather great handfuls of the needles so that she could bring them home and carefully weave them into baskets for sale. Or bundle them into loose balls to set aflame, piney sap filling the air with the scent of summer and joy and heat. But these needles were already half rotted, the clear amber color so prized during the summer turned to musty brown patched with blackish mold.

      Nothing good could come of the needles right now. But at least they did not burn. That was good. Better. Safer. For the moment. They shouldn't bring too much attention to themselves, not while they fled. Someday, once they had a new home, then they could be open again but not now.

      Ahead, Alli had one shoulder under Coby's arm, supporting her so that they could hobble along together, their three good legs doing what they could to spare Coby's badly broken leg. Even if Coby still had the crutches that had been taken from her they wouldn't have done much good. The forest floor was too uneven, the blanket of pine needles too thick, for crutches to help.

      It still burned that they'd taken the crutches away before chasing them out of town.

      Gisela shook her head, spraying tiny hot sparks all around her as the anger shifted and left her. A few yards away Liselot glowered at Gisela, sparks rising from her eyes. They'd all agreed, no fire, no magic, no revenge for the slight but it was hard to let anger go.

      Necessary, yes, but still hard. Gisela shook her head again, ignored the upward drifting sparks, and lifted her skirts as she followed Alli and Coby. Her back ached where the mob had kicked, hit, beaten her. Her neck throbbed where the mob had wrapped a rope around her neck, tried to drag her to be hung before Gisela had burned it away in a flash of fury and fire that had sent people screaming in terror. When she swallowed sour bile crept back up, tainting the back of her throat like the hurt fury that wouldn't leave.

      People were stupid, no matter what sweet, pale, gentle Viona claimed. Her magic was all light, all warmth, a fire so intense that it seemed barely there. She stood at the top of the ridge, staring down into the valley with her stark against the black-brown bark of a great pine. It was like staring at the sun, sometimes, or a single candle flame burning in a still, still room. Viona never had wavered, never had doubted, never had to worry about whether people accepted them or not.

      Her fire burned so hot that she had little to fear.

      Gisela did not have that luck. Her fire was the smoldering fire of a stove as morning came and new wood was put on old embers, the deep fires of the earth that moved continents and shoved mountains towards the sky. Slow burning, inevitable, like the turn of the seasons and the heat of the sun on a winter day. She couldn't set the world on fire but if she decided to burn something it was going to go up in flames eventually. Viona was the fast spark, the oil-fed flame that leaped up before you knew it was there.

      What do you see? Liselot called to Viona. Anything?

      They're following us, Viona replied.

      Her voice drifted down the hillside like snow flakes on a windless night, still and calm but still carrying the promise of smothering death. Gisela cursed, hurried up the slope to prop herself under Coby's other arm. Damn fools, they should have learned already. They'd gone. What more did they want?

      He's in the lead, Viona continued as if Gisela's curses weren't sending off waves sparks that scorched the branches overhead, sizzling water droplets and transforming them into puffs of steam. He has a spear. That shield.

      Idiot! Gisela shouted. He got what he wanted. What more is there?

      But he didn't, Viona said. She turned and looked at Gisela, her eyes glowing with white-hot light that made her look as though she was flame wrapped in a paper shell, barely alive, barely holding the flame back. He wanted you, Gisela, you without the magic. He wanted you to renounce it so that you could breed little boys for him, powerful little mages that would give him status. Importance. Money. Rank.

      Truth, that was truth, the sort of truth that punched Gisela in the chest. She'd known from the start that Harbart didn't truly love her. But it hadn't mattered. He was beautiful, strong jaw, broad shoulders, a quick wit coupled with the ability to make Gisela forget that he was a man and not even a gifted man at that.

      Their romance had soured almost immediately. Harbart had resented every minute that Gisela spent away from him. He'd growled at the others, scolded Alli and Coby every time they came to take instruction from Gisela. Viona had ignored his surly attitude utterly, drifting through town secure in her own power.

      It had all gone wrong when Liselot had come over to help Gisela smoke some meat that Harbart had killed, a deer, big strong buck with plenty of meat that would have supported them nicely over the winter. Harbart had scowled and forbidden Liselot access to Gisela's house. Liselot had snorted and pushed right past him only to be grabbed, punched in the face and thrown out of the house.

      Gisela's temper had gotten the better of her then. Punching Gisela's sister, her twin, was the end of it all, or so she'd thought. Harbart had come back that night, hands burned, wrapped in bandages, hair chopped short from the scorching she'd given him. He'd come back the next day with a blood red burn on his cheek from where she'd slapped him hard enough to put him on the ground. Then he'd come back the third day with a mob that roared for their blood as though they didn't rely on the family to heat their homes and save their lives when the summer dried the forest to tinder and a single lightning bolt could kill them all, every single year.

      Liselot, Gisela snapped, Come help Coby.

      What are you going to do? Liselot asked with enough scorn that it should have been a refusal.

      It wasn't. She moved quickly, gently taking Coby's arm from Gisela. Coby's eyes were wide, her face pale. Alli's face was equally pale but she wouldn't meet Gisela's eyes at all. They looked like twins, weren't, but they looked it as much as Gisela and Liselot didn't. They'd inherited great-grandmother's fine pale hair, much like Viona. Liselot's hair was fiery red where Gisela had hair as dark as their unmourned father's.

      Stop them, Gisela declared.

      You'll burn the forest down, Viona said, calm, quiet, eyes like living torches as she stared down at Gisela. You'll kill everyone, Gisela.

      I know, Gisela replied. You're responsible for keeping the other safe, Viona. Only one who can handle the level of flame I'm going to bring up is you.

      Be careful, Alli whispered.

      I'm sorry I wasn't faster, Coby agreed, tears burning as they crept up her cheek and then into the sky like embers from a bonfire.

      Don't die, Liselot huffed. Sparks shot out from her nostrils.

      They headed up the hill, carrying Coby outright now. Viona watched them, waited until the others passed her and then nodded down to Gisela. The air around Gisela heated, a gift from Viona that would make the coming forest fire easier to start. Gisela nodded back, waved for her to go and then planted her bare feet deep in the wet pine needles, toes digging downward until they found the wet clay underneath.

      Didn't take long at all for Harbart to show up. He had more scorches, more burns. Good. Gisela'd intended to take his head off entirely but getting rid of the noose had been more important. Harbart paused when he saw her standing there, ratty skirts covered with embroidered flames drifting in a wind that only Gisela could feel. Her dark hair drifted around her face, tendrils shifting in front of her eyes to block his no-longer handsome face.

      You can still renounce it, Harbart called to Gisela.

      You can still renounce your testicles, Gisela called back. Be glad to fry them for you, serve them with a nice sauce. Something a little sweet, bit of a bite at the end.

      He flinched and glared, no heat at all to it. Nothing he did had heat. Gisela had been entranced by the pretty face, the strong shoulders and fingers that could do so much. She'd ignored all the ways that Harbart could never measure up to what Gisela needed.

      Witch! Harbart shouted.

      The ground under Gisela's feet heated, dried. Steam came up from the pine needles around her, musty, moldy, full of death, decay. All around them, between Gisela and Harbart, behind them where the mob shifted and clutched their weapons in white-knuckled hands, steam rose until it roiled like fog across the ground.

      Harbart didn't realize what he faced. The other men, older men, backed away. Their eyes were wide and lips bloodless with fear. Most of the young ones stayed, weapons at the ready. Two archers, arrows on the string, kept their bows drawn, fletching by their cheeks as they glared at Gisela.

      You knew that when you climbed into my bed, Gisela replied. Praised me for it. Said it made me more enticing. Should have known you were lying then. I'm not the pretty one of my sisters. No reason for you to pick me other than you thought an ugly witch would be grateful for the attention.

      One of the archers snarled. He let fly and the fire rising around Gisela, slow and deep and all the more dangerous for not being fast, burnt the arrow to ash before it went more than a handful of yards. Harbart snarled at her, waving one hand at his men and then shouting when he saw the majority of them running away, stumbling, tripping, all but flying across the rough ground as they tried to escape.

      They wouldn't. Gisela already knew that. The wind around her shifted, blowing hard downslope towards Harbart and his friends, the loyal ones who believed that magic was something they could own, could control, could somehow breed into their children like a farmer would breed for more milk out of his cows.

      Stupid, the lot of them.

      The archers moved, separating from each other so that they could shoot at Gisela from either side. Pointless though they might get an arrow or two through. She didn't care if they did. A spear through the gut would only speed her magic up. Gisela had already decided that Harbart and his friends were going to die even if it meant she had to die, too.

      A forest fire in winter was hard to accomplish. The ground was too wet, the trees dormant, sap too slow to burn well. The layer of pine needles needed to dry before they would burn. She could do it, of course, but it wouldn't work as well as something bigger, something far more violent and honestly, the ache in Gisela's back from being beaten, the bruises around her throat, the pain of Harbart's betrayal, it demanded more than a mere fire.

      The town would survive a fire. They'd run and mourn and come back and rebuild. The forest would survive it, green shoots coming up between blackened stumps in just a season or two. In a year the forest would be stronger than ever, would support Harbart and his noxious friends in luxury.

      No. Gisela wouldn't allow that.

      Submit to me or die, witch! Harbart shouted.

      I already made my choice, Gisela replied.

      The words rumbled through the ground under her feet, dry clay heating as the fires deep within the earth rose, summoned by Gisela's fury. Viona's magic was there too, wrapped around Gisela like a blanket. She could feel Alli and Coby, sparking the air around her face, making starts drift ever upwards with every breath she released. Even Lisolet's magic was there, hot around her hands, her arms, her legs like the armor that Harbart had worn when he grabbed Gisela and tried to tear her clothes off before slinging a noose around her neck to drag her across the town square to the gallows they'd built overnight.

      Kill her! Harbart shouted.

      The earth rumbled again, louder, harder. Arrows arched towards Gisela. The one from the left burnt to ash. The one from the right came through the fire, stabbed into her shoulder. Gisela cursed, wrapped her hand around the shaft and burned it away in a puff of smoke. The arrowhead, wide metal tip buried deep into her muscle, melted out of the hole along with Gisela's blood. The blood trickled down Gisela's arm, flaming and burning like burning oil from a spilled lamp.

      Monster! Harbart shouted at her. He waved for the spears to be flung but even his men looked spooked now. Kill her! Kill her now!

      Too late, Gisela murmured. Too late for all of you. Don't you know not to offend a fire witch? We'll burn you all to ash and dance as the embers drift up to the sky.

      Every word shook the earth underneath their feet. Gisela stayed standing, riding the bucking earth as easily as if it was still and cold. Harbart tumbled to the ground, screaming something that Gisela couldn't hear over the rising fire below.

      Molten rock erupted out of the earth between them. The now-dry pine needles sparked into flame, then into a sheet of fire that swept outwards from the molten rock. Gisela smiled as Harbart's face went white. Even through the heat, the white-hot flame and smoke and radiating golden-red of the rock, she could see that.

      His men bolted, even the archers, running away just as the other men already had. Harbart didn't. He struggled to his feet, waving one hand at Gisela as if he could order her to stop, to make the molten rock settle back down into the ground.

      Gisela pulled at the rock instead, heaving the hot, heavy stuff up into the sky in a spray of red-yellow-white that flowed like candy melted on the stove until it was near to liquid. The fumes were deadly, vicious, cutting at Gisela's skin, her eyes and nose and mouth for a moment but then her magic pushed that away. Down the valley, down the hill towards Harbart whose scream was drowned out by the roar of the earth letting loose its burning blood to consume him.

      Him and the trees and the pine needles that burst into flames as soon as the soupy rock flowed over them. Lava flowed fast, racing down the hill. It looped around trees, dragging them down to burst into fire as they toppled into the rock, dimming its edges to black until more rock swept over the tree to consume it whole.

      Good, Gisela murmured.

      She turned and walked up the hill, away from the new volcano that would fill the valley with molten rock. Nothing was going to survive other than legends of what happened when you insulted, attacked, tried to control fire witches.

      Her legs shook as she walked. The pine needles, so damp earlier, were dry as tinder. They smoldered under Gisela's feet. Fire drifted across her cheeks. It took Gisela a moment to realize that it was tears.

      Tears. She was crying. Gisela brushed her hands over the hot rivers, stared at the flames that guttered and trailed over her fingertips. Why was she crying? Harbart was gone. Her sisters were safe. No one would hurt them ever again.

      When she reached the top of the ridge Gisela turned back and looked towards down just as Viona had. The valley wavered and danced in front of her eyes, partly because of the tears that wouldn't stop flaming out of her eyes but also because of the lava that had already reached the end of town.

      There went the smithy where Mother had worked. The old, old building with its huge timbers cut from logs as big around as Gisela's hips went up in flames, burning

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