Prompt: City Nightscape, or Finding the old, lost in the new

Thanks to Abdel for permission to use his beautiful image, "Titel-title"!

Ben ran his hands over the flight panel and checked the approach schedule one last time. He submitted his approval to the controller and leaned back in his pilot’s seat. Snorting with derision at the thought of this as piloting, he cleared the window so he could watch their approach.

Prague was still one of his favorite metros. You could hardly make out the old city tucked low against the river and surrounded by towering skyscrapers. As one of the oldest metros, Prague’s central towers weren’t as high as later developments. Ben’s home base in Dallas, for instance, didn’t have a single tower less than 150 floors. But he preferred Prague’s chaotic mishmash of old and new.

The hovercraft reached the entry point on their flight path and Ben felt the brief stomach flip he always did as the Martine Drive suspended their forward motion. The large round engines on either side of the craft rotated from forward-facing to upward-facing, and they began to descend from their hi-atmo cruising altitude into the city airspace.

Ben loved night landings into metros. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else – they’d think he was being ridiculous – and it did make him feel like a kid again, watching his granddad pilot one of the old airjets. Now, that was piloting. Hands on controls the whole flight. Sure, Granddad had plenty of help, but he was still the real pilot. Ben felt cheated of that experience. By the time he was old enough, the airjets had been replaced by the automated craft like this one, doubled in speed and size. Like the metro towers themselves, everything bigger was better.

Leaning his forehead against the cold glass, Ben peered down through the moonlit towers and tried to identify the familiar nightscape of the old city. The Einstein Tower—currently the largest residential building in New Europe—loomed in the metro center, with its lighted crown piercing the sparse louds. Below it, Ben could barely see the glint of the Vltava as it meandered through the metro. Following its path, he found the broad S-curves that framed the old city. Even the lights of the stumpy buildings were different, casting a yellow glow like ancient lamplight instead of the cold blue and white gleam of the tall towers.

Ben heaved a sigh in time with the engines’ shift into final descent. Staring up at the towers that now loomed over the hovercraft, he rolled his forehead on the glass once more, searching the darkness that was old Prague. There—there was St. Vitus Cathedral. If he had enough time between loads, he would go light a candle. Maybe step into one of the booths. He always had something to offer up for a priest to give him a penalty. Never the real thing though. He was still working that out with God himself. If he got it right with God, maybe he could go home someday and make it right with Granddad.

Dogs in house	Houdini, Brindle
Time writing:	~40 minutes, including research
October word count:	11,134

Prompt: Red Eyes

“How can you tell them, Gran’pere?”

“I see them through this camera. My great-great-gran’pere, Joshua Cowen, built it.”

“But how can you tell them through that?” I raised my eyebrows and wrinkled my nose. It looked sort of like a camera, but big and boxy and old. I liked my little red camera that showed the pictures on the back screen much better.

“By their red eyes, cher,” he said, with an earnest gleam in his own brown eyes.

I laughed and pushed at his shoulder. “No funnin’, Gran’pere! That’s from the flash in the pictures. I know that. I’m big! You can’t fun me!”

“Trick me.”

“I like fun better. Tell, me, Gran’pere.”

“It’s true. Look through here.” He held the back of the big camera up to my face.

I pulled away. “It smells funny,” I complained.

“That’s the flash powder they used to use. Gran’pere Joshua and his partner George Eastman weren’t making cameras for fun, cher. They weren’t interested in capturing images on film, they were hunting demons.”

I shook my head and jumped down from his knee. “Gran’pere, you tell funny stories. Okay, let’s go demon hunting. Can I use my little camera instead of that big one?”

“I don’t know, cher. Let’s take them to the mall and find out, shall we?”

Dogs in house	Houdini, Brindle
Time writing:	45 minutes, including research
October word count:	10,320

Prompt: FaerieCon Sunday Report

…Continued from yesterday

FaerieCon East, Hunt Valley MD

My travel crew had determined that we needed to leave by about 12:30pm in order to make everyone’s schedules work. This meant we had to get up and going in the morning to pack up and make our final rounds visiting dealers, exhibitors, and guests.

Daughter and I made our way downstairs, only to see Princess Author Alethea Kontis in the Children’s Book area at the very entrance to the lower realm. We chatted while she personalized books for Daughter and travel companion. I highly recommend Alethea’s new Woodcutter’s Daughters series, beginning with Enchanted and Hero. Retold fairy tales, with more capable heroines than the traditional sort you may recall from your youth.

While chatting with Alethea, we met another author, Annette Curtis Klause, and bought her 20^th anniversary reissue of The Silver Kiss. Then we headed through the realm to find Charles de Lint, who had cheerfully promised to sign the last of our books, including Tanglewood Cats. Since this was our final visit with him and Mary Ann, we bought their CDs to enjoy on the way home.

We continued our farewell round of the realm, saying goodbye to new friends including

·      Michelle Heffner of brightandshining.com, who painted my face so beautifully the day before,

·      Robert Quill, the talented artist from whom I commissioned my first portrait, and

·      James, who sold Daughter her first costume dress (thereby earning hourly hugs for the duration of the con).

Unfortunately, the biggest disappointment of the convention was that we weren’t able to stay long enough to see Charles Vess, who was one of the primary reasons I had wanted to attend. That makes me very sad, of course, but Daughter sensibly suggested that we should simply plan to attend another con where he will in the coming year. :)

Our trip home took even longer than the trip north, but we finally made it safe and sound, much to the bounding happiness of the dog and the loud purring of the cat.

So I think the upshot is that we probably won’t plan to attend FaerieCon East again – it’s a little far out of our travelling orbit, and not the most well-organized event, but we’re very glad that we did attend at least this once. The costuming was magnificent, and we made several new friends whom we hope to see again at some of our adopted Virginia cons in 2014 and beyond. All in all, a successful weekend.

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing:	~30 minutes
October word count:	10,102

Prompt: FaerieCon Saturday Report

Okay, let me get this over with. Fangirl *squeeee* over the charming and gracious Charles de Lint and his lovely and equally charming wife Mary Ann Harris! Charles signed several books for me (in two rounds, with two more books he’s already reassured me he’ll sign in the morning). And we got to hear the tail end of their hall concert, which was also a treat. *And* we saw them in the lobby during the Bad Faerie Ball costuming frenzy, and got pictures. *And* Mary Ann fussed over Daughter’s new costume dress, which made her squee too!

Well, now that *that’s* over with…

FaerieCon East, Hunt Valley MD

This is the 5^th FaerieCon East, and they loudly touted the return of their inaugural guests, Charles de Lint, urban fantasy author, and Charles Vess, fantasy artist. I’ve known Vess since 2000, when he was the inaugural art GOH at Trinoc*coN in Durham, NC. And I’ve been a fan of de Lint for even longer, since the Science Fiction Book Club introduced me to his created upper-midWest town of Newford, where reality intersects with the magical realm, not always with predictable or comfortable results. I was also very happy to hear the beautiful music of Martine Kraft and to see Jim Butcher, author of the Dresden Files, and the lovely Princess Author Alethea Kontis, in particular.

I decided to make the trip with Daughter, who has recently expressed interest in becoming more active in convention life, and two friends, another mother-daughter duo.

A longer-than-expected trip from NC on Friday meant we arrived just in time for the Good Faerie Ball on Friday night. We had a wonderful time at the ball, enjoying all the beautiful costumes and the music and dancing.

Saturday morning started rather slowly. Faeries like to party late and sleep in, so my first panel didn’t start until noon. So we enjoyed a relaxing morning and breakfast buffet at the hotel. In typical con fashion, I made friends with a woman while waiting for fresh-made omelettes, and we bonded over Charles de Lint and Neil Gaiman. She had already met de Lint and said he planned to be at his exhibitor’s booth when he wasn’t at a panel or other scheduled event. This is one of the “small moments” that I love about conventions – random connections with strangers who have specific common interests. :)

After breakfast, we strolled around visiting all the dealers and exhibitors. We made friends with the lovely ladies at one of the face-painting booths, and I treated myself to “faerie” eyes, which seems more like a half-face mask to me. I gave her more than she charged, she did such a lovely job. And one of her cohorts sang and danced the Time Warp, which had us all dissolving in giggles as we sang along.

We met Charles and Mary Ann for the first time, and when I pulled out my old Science Fiction Book Club edition of The Newford Stories, he laughed and pointed to the next booth over. “That’s the cover artist, right there!” After we chatted for a bit, I went over and met Gary Lippincott and thanked him for introducing me to Charles all those years ago! Gary is sweet and funny and a talented fantasy artist – check his work out at http://www.garylippincott.com. He described how dramatically the publisher changed his artwork for this particular cover, much to his chagrin. While talking with Gary and looking over more of his beautiful artwork, one of his longtime fans told me that she’s collected tarot cards for some 30 years, and his collection is her absolute favorite. They are certainly beautiful!

I tried to attend one of the main lit panels with several of the author guests, including de Lint, but by the time I arrived (a few minutes late), it was standing room only and out into the lobby, so I couldn’t even get into the room or hear very clearly. Another panel I planned to attend on steampunk was punked indeed – none of the panelists showed up after 15 minutes. I was discouraged from making much effort to attend the other panels I was interested in. We saw Jim Butcher standing in a hallway, signing books - he clearly should have had a table, and some scheduled signing time would have been nice.

So the panels proved a bust, but the dealers & exhibitors have a great variety of selections, and we enjoyed looking through so many fun and beautiful items. Daughter was particularly attracted to a fancy dress/underdress at one of the costumers. She kept returning to it again and again, despite my discouragement based on the price. Yeah, I broke down and bought it. She might sleep in it. She’s under orders to wear it at every con she attends for the next…forever.

After a relaxing and enjoyable day, we headed off site to as nearby mall for dinner. On our return, we prepared for the Bad Faerie Ball. By the time we made it down to the lobby, it was crowded with wonderful fae costumes. We enjoyed people-watching and eventually made our way into the Faerie Ball. It was much less crowded than the previous night, which surprised us until we realized there was no band playing, the diehard dancers were making do with canned music (albeit unjoyable). We waited for over 30 minutes before wandering back out to the hall dealers.

Where I met up with friends who introduced me to talented and uber-charming artist Robert Quill…from whom I ended up commissioning an original fantasy portrait! I’m looking forward to seeing what he does!

The 2^nd musical act finally started, and we enjoyed dancing for awhile. It was so hot and crowded, we had to go outside to cool down every few songs. After awhile, I decided I’d had enough for the night --writing and sleep hold more allure than late night partying these days!

So, that’s my report for our 1^st night/day of FaerieCon. Not entirely as I expected, but so far very enjoyable nonetheless.

To be continued...

Time writing:	~45 minutes, interrupted
October word count:	9,499

Prompt: Made of music

Stefan had set his phone alarm for just after dawn. His mother didn’t even stir when he fumbled to turn it off, or as he crept around the camper pulling on his jeans and a tee-shirt that didn’t smell *too* rank. He guzzled the last of the orange juice in the small fridge and wondered if he could find any money to buy groceries on the way home. It might take the edge off her temper. Well, he couldn’t buy beer, so probably not.

He shut the door carefully behind him and jumped on his bicycle, adjusting his backpack so it wouldn’t jostle around too much on the way to the dunes. He parked his bike behind a big trash drum and pulled out his dad’s old binocs, hanging them around his neck and shouldering the pack as he headed across the dunes to his favorite spot.

Settled in the sand, he scanned the beach. The regulars were there, little sanderlings and black oystercatchers. He saw some pelagics flying offshore. Ordinarily, he’d be keeping a close eye in case one of them flew in to shore as they sometimes did. Today he was in search of bigger game. Old man Ruiz said he heard a whooper swan when he was picking up oysters in the evening. Stefan had been dubious, but Senor Ruiz did know his birds, and Stefan didn’t want to miss a whooper if he had the chance.

So here he was at dawn with the usual little shorebirds and not much more…when he saw her. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, wearing a fancy white dress like in an old movie. Her dark hair was piled on her head, and her dress was open in the back. He was too starstruck to even pick up his binocs for a closer look as she wandered with dreamy barefoot steps across the white sand. Something swirled around her, like sheets of paper, and Stefan thought one fell out of her dress, picked up by the wind and swirling away.

To be continued...

Prompt: Angel at sunset

Matadel stood overlooking the valley, arms lifted in prayer, wings outstretched.

What am I watching for? She had asked the Great One when he placed her there, so many countless days and nights ago. She had been so very young, afraid she would not recognize her charge. He had smiled and cupped her cheek in his warm palm. You will know.

How long? Young and naïve, perhaps foolish to think she could measure time in any way compared to Him. As she turned to stone, the cold creeping through her body, she heard his answer in her heart. You will know.

So many long days, hot, cold, dry, rainy. She liked the weight of snow against her hard body. She liked feeling washed clean by the rain. Birds kept her company, and little creatures sometimes ran around her bare toes, or under the sweep of her windblown skirt.

People had come, stayed, gone, returned, built, built more. And more. The air began to corrode her outer layer. The rain had an acid bite that stung as it splashed, burned as it washed over her time and again.

What was she watching for? Waiting for? The sun rises, sweeps in its broad arc across the sky, sets the horizon on fire, sinks to reveal the night sky…what if she missed it? What if she let Him down? There might have been a moment, a year, a century, when she was lost in thought and not paying close enough attention.

Was that it? The cruelty of one person to another? Many people to many? Many to one? Tears mixed with rain on her cheeks, an extra sting that burned out from her heart.

Was it the gentle moments she saw over and over. Mother or father with a child. Lovers. Strangers.

Was it the beauty of His creation itself? Great and small, she marveled over every moment, every act, every emotion. But how would she know what she was waiting for?

This day, the sun blazes in brilliant colors as it sinks below the horizon. Golden light flares in streams across the clouds, and they reflect dozens of reds, orange, pink, purple, colors that have no name, no definition.

There! So far away! Her eyes burned through the veil of age, through the stone that imprisoned her. Yes, her heart sang with fierce joy. That is what she was waiting for. She had always wondered what would happen, would the stone fall away in chunks? Would she be weak? There was no time between the thought and freedom. Her wings fluttered in the evening breeze, and she stretched them wide, feeling the muscles across her shoulders and back. She leaped into the air to carry her message.

Well done, He spoke in her heart. Now it begins.

Time writing:	20 minutes
October word count:	8,383

Prompt: Walking to the moon

Anders divided his attention between the rough road and the sliver of the crescent moon low on the horizon. Its orange glow warned of the cold to come. He glanced down at the child’s head, barely visible as she slept snug against his chest in the sling he had improvised when she grew too weary to walk. At least she would be warm enough. He shrugged into his tunic and wished he still had his fur-lined cloak. And a horse. And food.

He paused and leaned on his battle staff, pulling open his water bottle and taking a small swallow. She stirred, and he held the bottle to her lips. He let her take more. Dear goddess, please let us find shelter, or at least a spring by sunrise.

“Where are we, dear kedjin?” she asked in a sleepy voice, snuggling back down in the relative warmth of the sling. He almost smiled at her unusual endearment.

He stowed the bottle and started walking again. “Still on the road, tana baq. Sleep.”

“Don’t drop me,” she mumbled. It was almost a joke between them. Imagine, having a private joke with a baq. He never would have believed it until now.

“I will do my best,” he groused, then added under his breath, “At least you’re not kicking my kidneys anymore.” She replied with a sleepy chuckle, unfazed by his familiar tone. Her back wasn’t bruised from dangling feet thumping against it for leagues on end.

He smelled the torguin before he could see them, then he heard a soft snort and a hoof stamp in the darkness ahead. The moon wasn’t bright enough to reveal much of the landscape, but Anders had trained as a kedjin for the baq since he was little older than the child he carried. His eyes gathered moon and starlight enough to see the slow-moving shapes near the trees on the left side of the curved road.

“Tana baq,” he said more softly than a whisper. “We have company. I cannot carry you and fight them all.”

She pulled down the edge of the sling, and her eyes glowed as she peered into the darkness. “It’s all right, my dear kedjin. You won’t have to fight them all. Look, the orange moon will fight them for us.” Before he could stop her, she twisted her fingers in front of them, then blew the sigils into the crisp night air.

“What have you done?” he breathed. As he stared into the darkness, the slender crescent moon grew brighter, and a beam of orange light, like sunlight, shone on their would-be attackers ahead. Anders dropped to his knees and wrapped himself around the child as the air froze around them. He buried his head in her hair to breathe her warmth.

The cold faded from his back, and he lifted his head. No sound, no smell from the torguin or their riders. Anders rose and shifted the sling to a less uncomfortable position. “Are you all right, tana baq?” he asked as he continued walking.

She pressed her head against him once more. “Of course I am, my dear kedjin. Please don’t drop me before you make camp.”

“I’ll try,” he said, thumping his battle staff as he walked past the frozen party, some with weapons half drawn against a foe they couldn’t have seen. They looked like a ragged band of thieves, not uniformed soldiers. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they weren’t being followed.

He glanced back at the men as they passed and shuddered. He’d never heard of a baq with this kind of power. She didn’t need him as a kedjin, that’s for sure. Maybe as a torguin. And a friend. Friend to a baq, who could have imagined it?

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing:	35 minutes
October word count:	7,898