So, what happened to the two Ars Magica guys that made it into the shield with our protagonists, because as far as I can tell neither the text nor the characters acknowledge their existence after Minerva questions them?
You'll find out in the second draft, when I fix that. But my initial idea is they'll be turned over to answer very awkward questions from the government - who aren't particularly happy anyone ripped open a hole in Stonehenge to the Far Astral
You'll find out in the second draft, when I fix that. But my initial idea is they'll be turned over to answer very awkward questions from the government - who aren't particularly happy anyone ripped open a hole in Stonehenge to the Far Astral
Could be he's from the future. Or, considering the nature of the astral as apparently a realm between realms, perhaps he's from a separate reality entirely.
Is it just me or did Minerva just get got by the freaking Shrike?!?
Though with the revelation about her injuries, the flying desk instead of the broomstick makes for a much more accessible flying and general mobility device. Well played.
The sunlight dappled across the Blythe grounds as Minerva scowled at the stairs before her.
"I can-" Petunia started, but Minerva frowned, gripped the wheels of her chair, then gently rolled herself towards the stairs. They were gentle enough, and she had managed a shorter flight of stairs earlier - these went down a few extra feet. Her forearms burned as she heard Kat's entire body tense while Petunia bit her knuckle. The trick was to keep complete control of the wheel with every step. She eased forward, released, gripped, eased forward, released, gripped, and with every single step down, her teeth clenched as she felt the rattling impact with every single step.
Then…
She was down with a clunk. She released her wheels, her palms aching, while Kat and Petunia hurried down the stairs. They stood to either side of her while Minerva's arms trembled and she let out a nervous bark of laughter.
"That hurt," she said.
"You'll get callouses," Kat said, nodding, her hand going to her shoulder, squeezing gently.
Minerva leaned back in her seat. Once more, the strange dislocation of her injury hit her - and she felt the confusing welter of emotions. There was anger, yes. Sorrow. Annoyance. But a lot of it was just…surreal. It still didn't feel quite like her life yet, even a week later. She pushed the wheels and then grunted and pushed one forward, and the other backwards, swinging herself around to look at Kat and Petunia. Petunia was looking like her normal guilty self. Kat just gave her a smile and a nod.
"I think getting up will be a little harder," Minerva said.
Kat snorted.
The three of them continued on their constitutional. At first, Minerva had been pushed the whole way. Her body had still ached, despite the best healing she had been given, and her arms had felt too weak. Now, she pushed herself along, the wheels clicking and clacking as she rolled down the cobbled path that wound through the grounds around the Blythe household. The fae kept the place well tended and neat, with blooming flowers and quiet, respectful trees.
Of course they did.
They had too.
Minerva sighed softly, while Kat said: "You are taking it better than Gina."
"Of course I am," Minerva said, amused. "I have a better role model." She glanced at Petunia and flashed her a smile.
"I still don't understand why you can't get fixed like my leg," Petunia said as they came past a large willow. The shade was pleasant, and the air was cool, and Minerva's hands hurt - which was reason enough for her to slow, to stop. "But you and Gina can't get a new…" She waved her hand. Minerva looked down at her legs. The blanket that covered her thighs remained a twitch lower than one might have expected, even with her legs still. She reached down, tugging it back to see the gauzy, smokey hue of semi-transparent limbs. Her legs, her belly, a little bit of her stomach and a part of her lung looked as if it had become smoked glass - transparent enough that one could see the light through it, but thick enough that they were clearly there. She let the blanket down.
"Well, no one has been eager to explain it," Minerva said, quietly.
"You can say that again," Petunia said. Her irritation flashed in her eyes, while her voice remained prim and proper.
"Don't be too mad at them," Minerva said, before Kat could speak up. "They've been busy."
Busy was an understatement. The destruction of the Arx Magica's finest and highest had sent shockwaves through the British government and wizarding life - and the revelations of magic and magister society had sent even bigger shockwaves through the mundane life. Every day, newspapers, both mundane and magical, screamed their heads off about new revelations, new riots, new discoveries. The Empire was terrified and the mysterious vanishing of a General and a few highly placed politicians had only ratcheted up things…
Until, of course, the Labor Party had released the news.
Stonehenge Ritual Gone Wrong!
The newspaper article had only some of the facts, but even those were damning. A hole ripped into the Far Astral. An ancient and terrible evil awakened, its attention drawn to the material world and only pushed back by the efforts of brave men and women in the Ministry. Hubris and folly and utterly sanctioned actions was the line that had leaped out to Minerva, the line that made her smile. But while it was good to see Ars Magica be utterly humiliated in the press and forced to answer very uncomfortable questions before government, that didn't mean that Minerva and her friends had gotten off free and high.
The police had been around the Blythe estate, asking questions. Percival had been around as well, asking even more pointed questions, and actually to Gina, rather than being rebuffed by Melissa. Percival, at least, was no longer wearing the silver lightning bolt of a Blackshirt, and from what Gina had said, he was even madder at Ars Magica than he was at Gina.
Which is saying something! Gina had said, cheerfully.
"Well, explain it now," Petunia said, huffily. "And remember, use the words us mundanes can understand."
Minerva nodded. "The astral realm is where magic comes from. Magic…affects patterns. When you heal someone, you're restoring a body to their pattern, or you're changing the body away from the pattern and holding it in place with raw willpower until the pattern, finally, changes with it. Well, when you are injured in the Astral, doubly so when you're injured by something of…power and potence…" She made a face. "Like, say, the weapon of a Pain Elemental's chosen avatar." Her hand went to her belly. "Then it means that the pattern itself is being ripped apart. I've been healed, I have organs, I have legs, I have a spine. But the pattern remains damaged, and it will remain damaged for…" She trailed off, thinking. "For quite some time."
"Has anyone ever had their pattern revert?" Petunia asked.
"Well, there were some legends that long enough lived wizards did recover," Kat said. "But most people who took pattern damage…they were not the kind to live exceptionally long." She snorted. "It is also being a rather modern problem. Before, most who were injured thus in the Astral Plane did not survive long enough. Healing magic is better these days."
Minerva chuckled. "For now? I'm…going to take life as it is. And I'd vastly prefer this to the alternative."
"Really? You…want…" Petunia asked, while Minerva lifted her eyes up to look at her, then smiled wryly.
"The alternative offered to me in this case was dying, darling," Minerva said, her voice dry.
"Oh. Right." Petunia said.
Kat tensed. A moment later, Minerva heard why: The faint sound of leaves crunching under footfalls came their way. Kat's hand dropped to her belt, where a pistol was holstered, a deadly German piece that she had gotten from her big box of guns and had not seen fit to return. Minerva folded her hands over her lap, sat up, and watched with exactly zero surprise as, around the corner, came a red skinned, spade tailed, contrite looking Merlin. He was dressed in a natty suit, with a trilby hat and a cane, which he was using to keep his balance as he sauntered through the woods. The cane, Minerva was sure, had been a broom until a few moments before.
He drew up short, then smiled. "May I speak?" he asked.
"Oh you might," Kat growled, but Minerva reached up, placing her hand on her wrist. Stilling her.
Merlin spread his hands. "Alone?"
"Oh you have to be kidding!" Kat exclaimed. "You want us to leave you alone with Minerva?"
"I mean her no harm, I just-" Merlin started.
"Kat," Minerva said.
"Please say you are about to tell me to shoot him," Kat growled.
Merlin tensed. His tail stilled.
"No," Minerva said. She gripped her wheels, then rolled herself forward. "Let's find somewhere private." She smiled, slightly. Kat frowned. Petunia looked even more unsure - if that were possible. But neither of them gainsaid her. They just watched and waited and, Minerva was sure, immediately made plans to sneak after and keep watch on her as she and Merlin came to a clearing. Rolling off the path made her arms work harder, but not overly harder. Merlin stood in the sun, his back to her, his cane on the ground. His tail lashed from side to side as he looked up at the sky.
"I would like to apologize," he said, quietly.
Minerva arched an eyebrow. "Apologize?"
"Yes," Merlin said. He turned back to face her, his face serious. "I was a coward. And a fool."
Minerva leaned back in her seat, her hands sliding along the armrests of her chair. She waited, watching him. Letting him continue. The silence hung for a moment as the wind blew through the leaves and the branches.
Merlin bowed to her, his eyes closed. He waved his hand and a chair of his very own emerged from the ground - unfolding itself from moss and leaves, twining together to create something soft and light and airy. He settled into it.
"I…was alive to see the Romans land here," he said, quietly. "Hell, I was here to see the last time that particular entity that you ran into was invoked - too much the same cause and effect." His lips pursed. "I lived through the War of the Roses, the British Civil War, Napoleon, the Roman collapse, the Fall of Camelot, on and on and on. I know how…very fragile it is. The world. The peace, the security, the stability I…" He looked as if he was struggling to find the words. "Do you know what it was like to have lived from 1820 to 1920? To see a century of peace and splendor and wealth and watch it…become…that." His fingers tightened, then opened again.
Minerva listened to him, but didn't respond yet.
"So, yes, I saw Ars Magica. I heard all the risks. But still, I…hoped…" He trailed off.
"You hoped you could keep the Empire on your side," Minerva said, quietly.
Merlin remained quiet. His tail lashed from side to side. Minerva learned forward, feeling her spine twinge as the real and unreal parts ground against one another. She winced, gritted her teeth, ignored it.
"It was very comfortable for you," she said, her voice soft. "For you."
Merlin was silent for a time longer.
"I suppose you have a point there." He stood, then frowned. "Hexgramatica will be getting a new headmaster, I am thinking. Professor Melissa Stevenson may be a good choice - she has shown herself quite talented at outside of the box thinking. Now, ramming a woman through the throats of the Board and the Ministry will be a touch difficult, but…" His lips skinned back, showing off his fangs. "I rather relish a challenge, I think."
"What will you do?" Minerva asked, her eyes widening.
"I think I need to see how life is for those who aren't so comfortable," Merlin said.
He turned, and he started to walk away.
"Sir," Minerva said, surprising herself.
"Yes?" Merlin turned back, looking at her.
"...what was…" she paused. "What was King Arthur like?"
"Oh, he was a war wizard of a pseudo-Roman warlord - Ambrosious Aurelianus, I believe. Arthur Pendragon slew nine hundred and ninety men by himself in a battle near some hill, all Mundanes. He had an enchanted sword, and I asked him to show it to me, and he demonstrated by slashing an entire stone in half." His lips quivered slightly in what might have been amusement. "I have to admit, the way legends have gotten that mixed up is amusing as hell to me."
"And you helped him unify Briton?" Minerva asked.
"Of course!" Merlin said. "Not against the Saxons, mind, they were nearly indistinguishable from the Britons to the wizards. No, no, it was the Necromancer Queen that we had to worry about." He grinned at her. "A story for another day, I think."
Minerva watched him go, shaking her head.
A coward, maybe. But at the end of the day, a legend.
"I should have let Kat shoot him," she said, musingly, to herself. "Maybe in the knee."
***
Gina seemed to be far less settled to her current condition than Minerva.
"This is all a load of…of…of…" Gina spluttered.
"Not going to swear?" Minerva asked as she rolled herself from the doorway of Gina's room to the best spot beside her bed. Gina scowled.
"No, I can't decide on which curse word fits best." She frowned. "Buggery. Fuck. Shit. Bullshit!" She slapped her good hand - her left hand - down onto the bed with a meaty whump that sent the skirts ballooning and sweeping outwards as the impact transmitted through it like the subduction wave of an earthquake.
"I mean, at least football uses your legs, right?" Minerva asked. "And your head."
"And arms!" Gina said, laying back in her pillows, glowering up at the ceiling. She slowly tore her eyes away from the dappled sunlight that shone along the wooden tiles, then held up her right arm. The movement was eerily smooth - it was like the muscles she was using were more perfect than human. Too perfect. Her fingers wriggled and the shimmering unreality of them set Minerva's teeth on edge. The smoked glass view through her palm distorted the painting of hunting hounds on the far wall. She wiggled her fingers more, then dropped it back to her lap. "I'm so sorry, I've been such a beast, complaining about myself, when…" She looked down at Minerva.
Minerva smiled. "It's all right. You know, I've actually been reading a touch about what happened to the two of us."
"Oh, I know what got me," Gina said, frowning. "A little old Cidak bullshit attack spell. Hit my arm, turned it to ash. Now because it's in the astral, I can't get it back." She looked down at her hand again. "Happened to plenty of old boys back in the war. All those astral trench raids and such. It happened to Mr. Vilamont too. And at least I earned it properly." She flashed a smile, her eyes sparkling slightly. "Besides, I have a plan!"
"No, I was thinking of the-" Minerva stopped. "A plan?"
Gina picked up a small silver bell, chiming it.
Titania entered the bedroom, smiling.
"Yes, Mistress Blythe?" she asked, quietly.
"Get Mienrva the thing!" Gina said, excitedly.
Minerva frowned as Titania walked over, picked up a large tome, then stepped over. She handed it to Minerva and Minerva found that there was a small red string that marked the place in Tome of the Impossible by Salvizar Salient-Stiltonwood. She opened it and pursed her lips as she read the spidery script as quickly as she could - her fingers drawing across the shape of articulated metal and gleaming gearwork, drawn in the finest hand that she had ever seen. Her lips moved and she read aloud:
"The gauntlet of Daedalus, crafted by…" She looked up. "You want a magical replacement arm?"
Minerva looked back down. "What the bloody hell is a moon-scythe?"
"It turns moonlight into solid weapons!" Gina said, bubbling over with excitement. "And tools!"
"Gina, if you just want a prosthetic arm, I think we can find a specialist who can make one," Minerva said, amused. "Hell, I bet I could do it, surely there's books on the subject."
"But this one-"
"Is, according to this footnote, buried at Atlantis," Minerva said, tapping her finger down on the paper. "I think the people who live in Atlantis might have rights to it first!"
Gina scoffed. "Atlantis is just a parable."
"Then how are you going to loot them?" Minerva asked.
Gina scowled. "I just want a fancy arm."
"And what makes it less fancy if I make it for you?" Minerva asked.
Gina opened her mouth. Then she closed it, frowning to herself. "Hum." She brightened. "Can you put a gun into it?"
"I'll see what I can do," Minerva said, smiling wryly.
Gina brightened even more. "Oh, can it maybe have a wand hidden inside as well? So I can cast wandless without being wandless?"
"Should I add a grappling hook, so you can pretend to be Black Beard or Long John Silver?" Minerva asked, her voice dry.
"Who?" Gina asked.
"Oh good heavens," Minerva muttered. She wheeled herself over to the shelf, slotting the book back into place. When she turned around, Gina was looking thoughtful.
"Would I have to…throw it?" She asked.
"The hook?" Minerva frowned at her, considering. "Well, it'd have a rope attached, and you can take it out and, you know, toss it up."
"What if it was in a gun," Gina said, slowly.
"A gun?" Minerva asked. "Whyever for?"
"To shoot it at people! And at the top of buildings!" Gina's eyes gleamed excitedly. "Then you can have a winch in there powered by a…a gremlin or something. I could just whisk myself to the roof in a flash." She nodded. "Do that."
Minerva laughed. "I will see what I can do."
Gina's smile was bright enough to light the whole room. Then…it faded. She looked away and Minerva waited, patiently, to see what her friend had to say.
"There's something else I've been thinking about," she said, nodding as she did so. "Do you think Ars Magica are going to just let this go?"
"No," Minerva admitted. "They may be on the back foot, but I don't doubt that we've gotten into a very exclusive list." She frowned. "I don't think they'll try and kill me while I'm living at your home. But how long until your father comes here to toss me out on my ear?"
Gina nodded. "I mean, I'm safe. Melissa is safe - she's going to become a Headmaster at Hexgramatica, right? It's just Kat, Petunia, you. Harry's safe too!" She grinned. "Well, so long as he doesn't become Raven again. What a silly thing for a boy to do. Wasting a perfectly good…" She made a gesture with her left hand that could only be interpreted in one direction. Minerva grinned at her.
"I don't think it's a waste," she said, demurely.
"Well, I- hey!" Gina exclaimed. Minerva laughed. "Still!" She frowned. "Oh! And Mister Gregory! He's in terrible danger, doubly so I should think!"
Minerva nodded. "I've been considering how to handle that."
"It might be best to get well clear, both of you," Gina said, shrugging her shoulders. "He'd be safer back in America, and I imagine he'll want to take Petunia, so why not you and Kat too? Wait until things die down."
Minerva opened her mouth, about to object. Then she paused, considering. The President himself had been announcing the next step of their New Deal. There were news stories being released by the White House, news stories that had filtered into England as sidebars in the foreign news. Stories about wizards working to reverse the damage caused by the Dust Bowl, to push back the expanding deserts, to return life to lifeless soil. Minerva felt the soil beneath her fingers, achingly real, and for a moment, her mind got tangled up in the possibilities and the difficulties of doing that kind of work. Vast. Complex. And it would be bringing life to something. She closed her eyes, considering more.
"That could work," she said, wonderingly.
"Well, of course it could!" Gina huffed. "I'm very smart, after all."
Minerva snorted loudly.
"And you can make my arm there," Gina said, nodding sagely. She snapped the fingers on her left hand - well, she tried at least. She had to try three more times before they finally made the meaty clack that she wanted. "And then you can mail it here, and I can show those Ars Magica fellows what's what. And you can write to me too. Tell me all about the pretty Yankee girls that Kat is seducing. I bet you, I bet you that they're all giants! I hear Yanks are tall, and they love our accents, that's what I hear."
"They'll luv yor accent, Gina," Minerva corrected, exaggerating her own for effect. "But I'll bring it up with Kat."
Kat chuckled. She leaned forward, kissing her forehead. "But you must," she whispered.
"No," Minerva said, shaking her head.
"The Amis are particular," Kat said. Her hands - her strong, loving hands - slid down to cup her cheek. She leaned forward, kissing Minerva gently on the lips. Her tongue darted between Minerva's lips, then drew back. "They have laws, you know, their Lycanthrope Exclusion Act of 1876. Too many of us from the Old Country, so they send us back." Her eyes were sad, warm. "But you? You must go."
"No," Minerva said, again, firmly.
They were alone in her bedroom, her wheelchair parked by the bed. Kat clicked her tongue, shaking her head ever so gently. "Minerva, my dearest, things are going to become very dangerous here in Britain. You've seen what the fascist do, when they get desperate. America is a safe place for you. You can find a fine job with their Department of Arcana, you can earn a great deal of money, and you can send it to me. "
"We can sneak you in!" Minerva said, her voice growing heated.
Kat swept her arms under her. There was a twinge of pain, but only a small one. When she was laid down, she felt the comforting weight of the bed settling around her. Kat crawled atop, her hands planted to either side. Her eyes were gold in the gathering twilight.
"And let me miss all that is going on here?" she asked, huskily. "There's going to be a war, Minerva. A war against the evil here. We've fought the first battle. But there will be more. Many more." She leaned forward. Her forehead pressed to Minerva's. Her eyes were closed. Her ears pinned back. Her tail stilled. "Do you want me to sit this out? To leave Gina and Harry on their own? To not watch their backs?"
Minerva felt her stomach knot. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "But I don't want to lose you, Kat." Her hand reached up. Blond hair slipped through her fingers, silky and wonderful. Kat laughed.
"I am not so easily lost, my Minnie…" Kat drew back, looking once more into her eyes. "I will crawl out of Hell for you, Minerva. I think we can spend a year apart. And you can regale me with every pretty Yankee you've been seduced by, yes?"
Minerva's cheeks heated and she snorted, a snotty, snotty snort. "Oh you beast," she whispered, closing her eyes, turning her head aside. "Don't make me laugh, not now."
"Laughter is for when things are darkest." Kat's voice came from the shadows. The sun had dipped behind the horizon - and everything had gone quite dark, with the shocking speed of light at this hour. Her lips, warm exclamation points, pressed to Minerva's neck, finding her thundering pulse and nibbling there, threatening.
The lights are going out all over Europe, Minerva thought. The quote came to her mind - echoing from some…book she had read, some autobiography or journal or something. She wasn't sure where. And they will not light again in my lifetime.
Her arms reached up. She wanted, badly, to spread her thighs. She whispered, softly. "Kat…are you sure? I can wheedle you, if you're not sure. I can whine and beg and prostrate myself, just…complete debase my very soul, just to bring you with me. If you're not sure." She chuckled, nervously. Her hand twirled through Kat's blond locks, tugging them gently. Kat laughed quietly.
"That's why I think I do love you, Minnie." She leaned forward. She smothered Minerva with the warmth of her kiss.
Minerva and Kat share one final time together...
Minerva felt squished under her, trapped in a way she hadn't felt before. She liked it, even as it made her afraid. But right now, she didn't want to be afraid. She didn't want to be pressed down or pinned. She wanted…she wanted to be free, to feel every part of Kat. She wanted it all. She put her hands against Kat's chest, pushing her gently back. Kat drew away, her eyes glittering with concern in the shadowy darkness overhead.
"On my side," Minerva whispered. "I think…yes…" She put her hands to the bed, rolling herself. Kat's hand on her hip got her the rest of the way. SHe laid with her hand on the pillow and her voice, desperate in the darkness, crooned. "Lift me. Kat, lift my leg…" She felt the silky smoothness of a padded paw - and heard the creak of the bed as it took more weight as Kat shifted with her eagerness. Minerva cocked her head around and watched as the gauzy, transparent limb of her left leg rose into the air, catching a silvery beam of moonlight and seeming to glow. She felt so exposed. So needy.
Kat kissed her neck, licking with a thick, broad tongue. She chuckled. "Hows this? Comfortable?"
"Oh yes…" Minerva whispered. The strength of Kat's palm, the bulk of her body, the heft of her breasts against her back. She was still clothed, but her skin felt so sensitive that every point of contact blazed. Kat used her other hand, plucking at buttons with the casual disregard to fashion that all wizards showed - when it took but a flick of a wand and a muttered spell to sew buttons back on, who cared if they pinged and rolled away. Her paw cupped Minerva's breast and she found her nipple, tugging gently. Minerva pushed with her hands and ground her sex against Kat's bulge.
"Can you feel that?" Kat rumbled, her breath hot against Minerva's neck.
"Mmm, tug harder…I'm not made of glass, love," Minerva whispered.
"Could have fooled me." Kat chuckled, her hand squeezing Minerva's leg. Despite that, she tugged. Hard. Minerva bit her lip, then gasped out a desperate, needy moan as Kat's blunt-tipped, lupine fingers added at twist, sending delicious pain and pleasure through her spine. Her sex felt so wet. She risked a glance down and saw that her ghostly legs had another curious effect - her juices glowed. Kat noticed as well.
"Well, that makes targeting easy for night attack, eh?" Kat chuckled.
"Oh you-" Minerva gasped out again as Kat shifted behind her, squirmed, wriggled, and somehow managed to get her pants off her digitigrade legs with just a few kicks and bucks. Her girlcock, knotted and eager, slid between Minerva's thighs and against her sex. Kat rocked her hips slowly, panting as she did so.
"So wet," she murmured. "Even being impaled through the chest by…by…whatever that was can't slow you down."
"Mmm, it was an Avatar, actually," Minerva mumbled. "Some…poor bugger that the thing grabbed onto centuries ago and twisted int-"
Kat bucked her hips. The tip of her wolfish cock speared into Minerva and Minerva found it quite hard to speak at all. Her eyes closed and she ducked her head forward, gasping. "Oh Kat!"
Kat laughed, then thrust harder, her hips bucking. Her member spread deeper into Minerva, stretching her. The pleasure was not muted - not in the slightest. Minerva bit her lip hard to keep from crying out even louder as the knot began to slap against her sex. Kat used one hand to hold her thigh up, the other reaching around. Two blunt fingers rubbed her clit as Kat relaxed into a casual, lazy fuck. A rhythm that felt like the powerful woman could carry until the end of the world. Pleasure crested inside of Minerva as she felt the warm, loving breath of her Kat against the nape of her neck - as she heard the rhythmic slap of not just furred thighs and furred balls, but of a furred tail, wagging against the bed.
Minerva released her lip and laughed. "Ah. Fuck me. Kat. Oh Kat!" She gasped. "Fuck me! And you better tell me of every conquest you claim!" She laughed.
Kat let out a very wolfish laugh. She leaned over, her nose bumping against her ear. Her voice was a quiet growl.
"The first's gonna be Gina."
"Oh god, you monster!" Minerva laughed. "I called…ah…oh Kat!"
She arched her back and felt her sex tightening. Her legs remained still - but the pleasure still rocked her. Kat nuzzled her neck, fucking faster now. Her knot pushed into her, trying them together as Kat panted, growled, then threw her head back. She howled, careless of the noise, careless of who might hear, careless of the world. In the darkness, light - the blazing white heat of pleasure and love and longing. Minerva quivered and rolled her head back against Kat, laying into her as she felt warm seed spilling into her, straining against the knot tying her shut.
She panted and Kat panted and, together, they wallowed.
"We go…as soon as we can go…" Kat rumbled. "If we wait, you never will leave. Will you?"
Minerva nodded.
She never would.
***
The wind blew warm and filthy off the Themes as the steamship Empress of Britain waited for passengers to embark. The line vast and snakelike, and Minerva felt herself faintly relieved that she was going to be sitting down for the wait. Small blessings.
She grinned up at Kat, trying to seem chipper. Harry, Selene, Gina, all of them stood next to Kat, while Petunia and Gregory stepped forward to take the line. Gregory seemed exceptionally alert - his eyes tracking about in the crowd - but he didn't immediately dive for cover…so, Minerva supposed she might as well try and relax.
"Remember, get many postcards!" Kat said, her voice own too chipper, too cheerful.
Harry smiled, sliding his arm around Gina, who waved her good hand - her bad arm on full display, flaunting it. A few mundanes even noticed, but a shocking number simply walked past Gina as if she were the most normal thing in the world. Minerva supposed there was a staggering amount that a human brain could miss, if it expected normalcy.
"Have fun in America!" she called out.
"Take care of them!" Harry added.
"Oh, I will," Gregory called out. "Minerva!"
Minerva turned, her wheelchair spinning slightly too smoothly, too easily. As she did so, she noticed a tawny cat, threading its way through the pedestrians and the people waiting to board. Minerva narrowed her eyes - then started as the cat leapt up onto her lap. It sat back on its haunches and then cocked its head…then spoke, clearly, in Melissa Stevenson's voice. "Well, Miss Golding," she said, calmly. "I did want to say goodbye before you left for your little adventure."
"Professor!" Minerva exclaimed.
"Please, it's Headmistress now," Stevenson said, sniffing. "You will be my last student…indiscretion, I think." She licked at the back of her paw - an animalistic gesture she weighted with elegance and class.
"Well, good," Minerva said. "Even if I will miss you."
"And I you, MIss Golding. Minerva." Stevenson paused. "You're off to a new adventure. A new place to learn. I hope…what you've learned at Hexgramatica will serve you well." She put her paw on Minerva's thigh. "And…" She looked down at the wheelchair. Despite being a cat, she arched an eyebrow. "...and I think you will cause the Department of the Arcane or whatever it is the Yanks call it a lot of vexation."
"I intend to, Headmistress," Minerva said.
Stevenson paused, then shifted. For a moment, a woman straddled Minerva's lap. Passing mundanes might have noticed. They might not. The kiss was fleeting and warm. And when Minerva opened her eyes, there was nothing but the hint of departing fur among the crowds.
Petuna and Minerva got into the line. They waited. And sooner than they expected, they watched London begin to cruise away from them. The buildings Minerva had found so familiar grew smaller and smaller by the moment. The Themes and the yawning gulf of the English Channel shifted before her eyes as the steamship picked up speed. Minerva didn't feel the rocking as she leaned back in her wheelchair.
Next to her, a man in a business suit groused in an American accent. "You hear that madman Hitler claims to have an entire order of these bloody wizards on his payroll?"
"I'll believe it when I see it," his friend said, chuckling. "But if he thinks he can stand up to England, France and the United States? Well, he's got another think coming. Have you seen what those…those fellas did to Ohio?"
"It scares me almost as much as the Nazis, to be honest." The first man took out a cigarette. "Do you have a light?"
"Please, let me," Minerva said, smiling. She held out her hand and snapped her fingers - focusing as she did so.
Just as she had hoped, a small bead of fire appeared between her fingers and thumb. She touched it to the stunned man's cigarette, then clenched her hand. The flame vanished.
"Jesus Christ," the other man whispered.
"Minerva," Petuna said, her voice warning.
"Personally, I think that if Hitler's wizards want to have a chance, he may want to hire for more than just blond hair and blue eyes," Minerva said, smiling at the men. The man with the smoldering cigarette blinked…then laughed.
"Damn right!" he said, turning to his friend, then back to her. "Might I ask you to take dinner with me, ma'am? I think I want to hear more about wizards from a wizard."
"Are you sure about this, Jack?" his friend asked.
"Don't be a nervous nelly," Jack said, chuckling.
Minerva smiled, enigmatically. "I think…" She glanced away, at the vanishing shorelines. "I think I will take a quick flight before dinner."
"A quick…" Jack's friend asked - but Minerva had already pushed herself forward. The wheelchair lifted up, and then dropped over the railing. The two men cried out in fear as Petunia laughed, despite herself. She laughed, as Minerva dipped, then sailed upwards, her wheelchair soaring through the air as she laughed, whipping up and up and up, and up, around the smokestacks, to peer down at England as she slipped over the horizon.
It's not perfect...my second draft is going to have more classroom scenes so there can be more normalcy that's also worldbuilding! Also, longer times before the accident with the memory spell should make it feel less abrupt.
It's not perfect...my second draft is going to have more classroom scenes so there can be more normalcy that's also worldbuilding! Also, longer times before the accident with the memory spell should make it feel less abrupt.
I mean, while that's nice, the story works fine as is in my opinion. It's a little breathlessly paced, but I think that makes it charming and works in its favour.
It's not perfect...my second draft is going to have more classroom scenes so there can be more normalcy that's also worldbuilding! Also, longer times before the accident with the memory spell should make it feel less abrupt.
Yeah, that would've been my suggestion. I was also hoping for more...payoff? To things like the fey. But I guess that's supposed to wait for the sequel(s).
Yeah, that would've been my suggestion. I was also hoping for more...payoff? To things like the fey. But I guess that's supposed to wait for the sequel(s).
They've already killed Villmont once, had a shift in the headmaster of Hexagramatica, fixed Petunia's leg, formed an antifascist fighting force, and stopped an elder god from devouring reality. All in all, I think that's more than HP ever did.
That really was a lovely little story, you've got quite the talent for erotica with a clever plot, or is it a clever plot with erotica? Anyways, I've really enjoyed this story, you really did the period setting justice (though that's not exactly a surprise after your dracula/war of the worlds story.) I'd also like to note I really appreciate how you represent trans characters, even in an erotic story you let them maintain their humanity (also bringing up Hirschfield was something I did not expect and was very pleasantly surprised to see.) I look forward to whatever you do next
They've already killed Villmont once, had a shift in the headmaster of Hexagramatica, fixed Petunia's leg, formed an antifascist fighting force, and stopped an elder god from devouring reality. All in all, I think that's more than HP ever did.
I like the idea of Merlin becoming Mryddin Wyllt again and just fucking off as now in the persona of a kooky hobo hopping trains, much as he had once been a mad hermit in the woods, a millennia ago, before all the moral compromises and bloody hands of statecraft and law and order.
I like the idea of Merlin becoming Mryddin Wyllt again and just fucking off as now in the persona of a kooky hobo hopping trains, much as he had once been a mad hermit in the woods, a millennia ago, before all the moral compromises and bloody hands of statecraft and law and order.
I really like this chapter bringing together Weird Mythical Merlin and the Merlib of this story, among the many other things I like about it.
Also the offhand note about Saxons and Britons being basically indistinguishable to the wizards at the time really does a lot to sell how new the racial attitudes of the Imperial British Wizards actually are.
It's not perfect...my second draft is going to have more classroom scenes so there can be more normalcy that's also worldbuilding! Also, longer times before the accident with the memory spell should make it feel less abrupt.
In particular, this last bit has a lot of Minerva explaining things to the two new mundanes, but without anything that felt like her learning all that magical knowledge and transitioning out of that novice-audience-surrogate role.
I saw this one slightly in advance on your patreon, and I still liked the extra commentary it attracted by being crossposted here.
Idk what you're proposing to post next but Janice Starr and your Alien hive mind story both seemed more erotic but not stupider to me. Maybe sillier and funnier? JS has that retrofuturist vibe complete with very silly aliens, but also the rocketry and weaponry was hard sci-fi. I think that's pretty smart and was constantly funny. And the alien hive mind story has a fun setting that kinda reminded me of Hannu Rajaniemi's The Quantum Thief and a bunch of tender stuff about the protagonist that I think is smart.
I've been reading along on the patreon but the patreon is usually pretty quiet on commentary. It has been really fun to get to read the commentary and reactions here! Plus, with you and Erika regularly posting about the history, it was like getting commentary footnotes.
Heck, given the higher population of sci-fi nerds over here than on some of the other sites you post work on, I bet if you reposted Jasmine Starr a chapter-a-week here you'd find a receptive audience. Or maybe a chapter-a-week post of The Longshot starting the day of the release might be a fun idea if you want to drive some sales. But that's really all a question of if it's fun for you.
Your plans for the next draft sound solid. Scaling up a little bit of the school life by a bit will definitely help build that sense of normalcy that the memory accident can really disrupt. Still, that's a case of turning a great story into a really great story!
This was definitely one of your stand out novels! I look forward to eventual sequels whenever you decide to write them.
Also, Erika deserves big round of applause for her research work! It very much seemed like you two were having a good time collabing and that energy came through in the results!
Ah, can I get a link to that? That crossover actually makes a lot of sense thematically thinking about it some. Both stories were written in a relatively close period of time and have a lot of the neuroses of late 19th century Britain with them, for better or ill.
Also the Martians are themselves basically blood drinking vampires.
