The Obsidian Worm
A Spellslinger Novelette
Kellen, Reichis, and Ferius have journeyed to a distant land to hunt down the last of the insidious creatures known as the obsidian worms that secretly enslave their victims. But not everyone appreciates Kellen’s attempts at heroism . . .
Note: This novelette is set in the world of Spellslinger.
Story Behind The Story
When I was writing Charmcaster, the third book in the Spellslinger series, I wanted to spend some time with Kellen, Reichs and Ferius as they travel the continent trying to rescue those whose lives and the lives of their families were placed under terrible danger by the events of the second book, Shadowblack. Alas, a novel needs to have a unity of theme or else it tends to devolve into a mere sequence of episodes, and that meant I needed to focus Charmcaster on the darker side of Kellen’s destiny. But it always bothered me that we didn’t get to explore the moment in his life when he consciously tries to take on the role of the hero – to be like Ferius and pursue doing the right thing rather than having fate foist it upon him. The Obsidian Worm is a fantasy adventure novelette that considers the consequences of trying to be a hero when nobody else really sees you that way.
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Les vieux maîtres de sort aiment raconter que la magie a un goût. Les sorts de braise ressemblent à une épice qui vous brûle le bout de la langue. La magie du souf e est subtile, presque rafraîchissante, un peu comme si vous teniez une feuille de menthe entre vos lèvres. Le sable, la soie, le sang, le fer… cha- cune de ces magies a son parfum. Un véritable adepte, autre- ment dit un mage capable de jeter un sort même à l’extérieur d’une oasis, les connaît tous.
'I totally saw this coming,’ Reichis growled, leaping onto my shoulder as lightning scorched the sand barely ten feet from us. The squirrel cat’s claws pierced my sweat-soaked shirt and dug into my skin.
The way of the Argosi is the way of water. Water never seeks to block another’s path, nor does it permit impediments to its own. It moves freely, slipping past those who would capture it, taking nothing that belongs to others. To forget this is to stray from the path, for despite the rumours one sometimes hears, an Argosi never, ever steals.