Loyal Magic is out! I love this book. Then, again, I love the whole world of the Faerene Apocalypse and its characters. They’ve become incredibly real to me. It’s a joy to write their story. I hope you enjoy reading Loyal Magic as much as I loved writing it.

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07Q1KMLW6/ – and it’s in Kindle Unlimited (Amazon’s lending library) if you want to borrow a copy.

Blurb

Trouble, ancient and new, is stalking Amy and her griffin partner, Istvan. 

The more Amy learns about Faerene politics here on Earth, the more she realises the danger she is in as a human familiar. And what threatens her, could devastate humanity’s chance of recovering from the Faerene Apocalypse.

Excerpt

The alligator surfaced, its snout breaking the green scum on the water with the softest of plops. An instant later, just long enough for it to detect the scent of my companion, it fled; tail thrashing and scattering algae everywhere.

I wiped a blob of green from my face.

Dorotta, the dragon ambling beside me on the unsurfaced road, sighed with a hint of smoke. “Too bad. Your gators make delicious snacks.”

Mosquitoes and other bugs swarmed around me, but none landed on my exposed skin. I’d sprayed myself with a bug spray bought at Sabinka’s apothecary shop back in Justice. I smelled of aniseed and orange blossom with a sour sharpness, and the bugs whined their frustration. About an inch from my skin, their blood hunger was defeated by Sabinka’s alchemical magic.

“The saltwater crocodiles in Australia are even better,” Dorotta continued enthusiastically. “They’re so much larger. Some are nearly as long as my tail.”

I stared at her tail and shuddered. Dorotta was a copper-colored dragon with a body the size of a truck. I didn’t want to imagine how big the crocodiles she snacked on were.

I opened my mouth to say something about how lunch had only been an hour ago, and choked on a bug. It served me right for contemplating being snarky. Dorotta was my new bodyguard, and we needed to get along.

Rory had appointed her. After she’d joined his pack, he’d hired her away from the Messenger Service to act as my personal guard.

It had been in her role as a Messenger dragon that I first met her, and back then, I’d thought Dorotta reserved and wise. Now, I knew better. Maybe she was wise, but she was also quirky and gossipy and addicted to the thrill of danger. Hopefully, we wouldn’t encounter any of the latter. With Rory and Istvan metaphorically hovering, if I was threatened with any real danger they’d pull the plug on my plans.

Rory was a magician, a werewolf, the alpha of a new pack, the Guard Master for the Magisterial Guard Unit of the North American Territory, and self-declaredly intent on wooing me.

As the magistrate for the territory, Istvan was his boss.

I was Istvan’s human familiar. I’d given him my rare human magic via an oath, and he channeled it into his spells—when he remembered.

The arrival of the Faerene on Earth had changed everything, so much so that the ongoing cataclysm was called the Faerene Apocalypse. Yes, they’d crossed the Rift and sealed it behind themselves to save us, but in doing so, six sevenths of humanity had died from disease, starvation, environmental disaster or violence. Now, Earth hosted approximately a billion humans and half a million Faerene.

The Faerene were a mix of magical peoples. As well as dragons like Dorotta and werewolves like Rory, there were griffins (Istvan was a huge black griffin, very handsome), unicorns, elves, goblins, nymphs, orcs, vampires and others.

The worst of the apocalypse ought to be over. It had taken six months to seal the Rift, but now that it was stable, the Faerene were focused on establishing their new lives. However, the Faerene didn’t intend on including humans in their new world for another few generations.

The Faerene Migration had been planned down to the last detail, but they hadn’t anticipated the emergence of magic in a few rare humans like me. Whilst the Fae Council debated a policy of eliminating our human magic for a century or so, I proposed the opposite. I had more faith in my fellow humans and believed that we could integrate with magical peoples—the Faerene—now, and not wait for generations.

We had to. We had suffered so much; something I couldn’t dwell on for my sanity and survival. We had to move forward. There had to be hope.

I had found my purpose in life. I wanted a blended human and Faerene world to rise from the devastation of human civilization. To get there would require knowledge of, and respect for, one another. I could be part of fostering that understanding and acceptance.

I still struggled with my special status as a human in Faerene society. Before the apocalypse I’d aligned everything in my life to the goal of becoming a psychiatrist. I’d only been at the beginning of that journey, a college student, but my interest in how the human psyche worked had left me with a few understandings. Things like the fact that each of us thought we were special, yet, contradictorily, a number of us suffered from imposter syndrome. We doubted our own accomplishments.

Except I was an imposter.

I was special in the sense that I was pretty much unique as a human familiar, but I hadn’t earned the secure life I now lived. Sometimes the guilt of that ate at me: that while others fought daily to survive, I could be sure of my next meal, and not exhausted, not dead! It was a luxury that I could laugh and spare the energy to be curious.

Dorotta and I were on our way to Miami, or what remained of it. This “teensy-eensy” side jaunt to the Everglades was her idea.

“The Huh adore charcoal,” she’d said. “But it’s difficult for them to acquire in the swamp. So I drop off a sack whenever work brings me close by. Hickory is their favorite.”

So we’d translocated in, appearing in the air above the swamp. Dorotta had circled a couple of times as she chose a road to land on. Now, we walked in the direction of the Huh’s hidden settlement.

A three foot tall humanoid frog popped up to the side of the overgrown road.

“Hello, Kes,” Dorotta said casually.

“Greetings, Dorotta.” The bulging-eyed green being stared at me.

Dorotta flicked a claw in my direction. “This is Amy, Magistrate Istvan’s human familiar.”

Four more Huh popped out of the swamp to stare at me.

“Hi.” I waved lamely.

They waved back with three-fingered, green, splayed hands.

“Charcoal.” Dorotta extracted a sack from the capacious leather satchel strapped to her belly. “I won’t be back this way for a while. I’ve quit the Messenger Service and joined Magician Rory’s new pack.”

Kes opened the sack of charcoal that was as large as him—or her. Although the Huh wore no clothes, I couldn’t discern their sex. Not that I was staring.

The other Huh padded forward to take a charcoal piece each to nibble on. Nibble charcoal, stare at the human familiar. Nibble. Stare.

I smiled uncomfortably.

“The Rift magician has a pack?” Kes asked.

“Hope Fang. I am its first dragon member,” Dorotta said proudly. “We also have an elf and a goblin.” She buckled the satchel closed. “It is a very progressive werewolf pack. Rory is Magistrate Istvan’s Guard Master for the territory, and he has appointed me as Amy’s personal guard.”

“While we’re on circuit,” I added.

Another Huh popped out of the mangroves and grabbed a piece of charcoal. “So, you’re off to Tenger?”

Tenger was the port city the Faerene had founded on what had once been the site of Brunswick, Georgia. It was also the first stop on Istvan’s inaugural South Eastern Magisterial Circuit.

The latest Huh didn’t bother nibbling but shoved the entire piece of charcoal into their mouth. Wide green lips writhed as they chewed and sucked and gawped between Dorotta and me for an answer.

I glanced back at Dorotta. Since I’d been forcibly introduced to the Faerene I’d encountered a number of individuals from their different species. Elves had green skin and goblins blue, but both looked human. Werewolves were human in appearance in one of their three forms. At the other end of the spectrum, non-humanoid species were different enough for my brain to accept them on their own terms. But the Huh, with their blend of frog and human, unnerved me.

“We’re visiting Miami first,” I said.

The Huh stopped nibbling, sucking and chewing to stare at me. “Where?”

“The City of Lost Minds,” Dorotta said.

“Oh.” The Huh lost interest. Three joined Kes and together they lifted the sack of charcoal. “Goodbye.” They vanished into the mangroves. Literally vanished.

Dorotta scratched her chin. “The Huh believe that people who stay in the ruins of a flooded city have lost their minds. Sensible people move to higher ground where they can grow food. Unless they’re the Huh, who like the swamp.”

I had a sneaking suspicion that my dragon guard had brought me here in an attempt to discourage me from visiting Miami. “But there are still people in Miami?”

“Yes.”

“Then I still want to go there.”

***

Finally, to my American readers, Happy Memorial Day! I was reading this post, Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Meaning by Dr. Alex Pattakos, and toward the end I was caught by the notion that the pursuit of happiness is to hold ourselves responsible for the greater good. Thank you to everyone who has served, and especially to those who have given their lives, so that their fellow humans may have justice and peace and hope for the future.