On the Isle of Sound and Wonder (38 page)

Mira got to her feet, swallowing her mixed feelings of excitement and confusion. She looked over at Karaburan, who eyed her sideways with an innocent expression.

“I’m the king of the island,” he said, as if that explained everything. He spread his six-fingered hands wide in an awkward shrug.

Mira tried not to laugh. “Yes, you are. What do you think?”

“I’m the king of the whole island,” he repeated, carefully. “I cannot abandon my kingdom. My mother’s spirit rests here, and so must I.”

Mira furrowed her brow. “Won’t you be lonely?”

Karaburan shook his head imperiously. “No. You would, but I won’t.”

“And what should I do instead?” she asked quietly.

Karaburan turned his whole hulking frame about and eyed Ferran a little shyly. Then he ran a hand over his head and scratched his shoulder, fidgeting. “If you want to see what’s beyond the water, you should go beyond the water and see it. Whatever it is,” he added, as though he could not fathom it himself.

Mira drew a deep breath and let it out again slowly. “That about settles it. Thank you, Your Highness,” she added.

Karaburan’s pale blue eyes lit up like candles, and he smiled an uneven, timid smile.

“All right,” Mira said. She turned to Ferran, who looked as though he were trying not to smile too widely. She raised her brows at him. “What?”

“I’m glad you’re coming,” he confessed, and looked around sheepishly. “I’m glad we made it out of this, y’know, alive.”

Mira said nothing, sensing what he was getting at. She looked back at the island thoughtfully, the trees painted with the colors of dawn. “So am I,” she agreed. Sorrow, relief, and resolve battled equally within her, but riding at the forefront of those emotions was the thrill of anticipation.

“Are you all right?” Ferran asked in a quieter voice. “I mean, a lot has happened.”

“I know. I’ll be fine.” Mira took a deep breath and smiled, looking over at him. “There is much to do.”

“Is there?”

“Oh, yes. First things first: when that ship lands, I need you to show me how everything works. And I mean, everything. After that, I am going to need some piloting lessons.”

Ferran laughed. “And after that?”

“After that,” Mira replied, “I’m going to see every inch of this brave new world.”

I didn’t intend for this to be my first novel. I’ve written (or attempted to write) several before this, but this one happened at just the right time, and it had the right challenges for me. These challenges could not have been met without a lot of help, a lot of encouragement, and a lot of love. If you’re reading this: thank you.

Specifically, I have to thank the incredible friends I have who have supported my every creative move, especially those which led me to this moment. Thank you beyond words to Nika, Jessi, Meg, Lev, Kim, Bobby, Dora, Chels, Kyle, Matt, Kathy, Chris, Elyse, Meghan, Sarah, Laurence, Atra, Becka, Ilana, Warwick, Deborah, Ken, Mary Jo, Josh, Benjamin, Andy, Dave, Nicole, Kurt, Stephanie, Deborah, Nathan and Mel for their friendship and support, for offering to feed me when I was eye-deep in revisions, for offering to booze me when I was tearing out my hair with frustration, and for offering to read the final product when I was ready to let it all go out into the world. Thanks also to Brian, Beth, Gary and Cathy for keeping the Fan Club alive. Love you guys!

Thank you to The Book Cellar in Lincoln Square, Red Eyes Cafe in North Center, DemiCon in Des Moines, and the indomitable, magnificent TeslaCon in Madison—TeslaCon brought me into the world of Steampunk in person, when I had only ever experienced it in books before, and made my imagination explode with possibilities. Cheers to you all: Will and Karen, Alexis, Kait, Kat, Shane, Joseph, Eli, Elizabeth, Evan, Tab, Ansel, Adam, the Prussians, Neal, Rachel, Aelf, Heath, Katherine, and Eric of course. Love and thanks!

To the Plan 9 Asstronauts (sic) and fan family for weird shimmies and your unfathomable love for my mortal grossness.

To the Piccolo Theatre family for taking a chance on me as an actor and for making me one of your own, and for bringing me into a whole new family for a whole new chapter of my life.

To the great weird excellent massive unstoppable force that is the Bristol Renaissance Faire: Kristen said leap, so we must leap. The net will appear! (Thank you Kristen!) Naomi, Lara, Greg, Kate, Chris, Steven, Juli, Drew, Gwen, Jiggins, beloved commedia, all of the directors, all of the cast, all of the photographers . . . everyone who has been a part of the Bristol bubble of creative joy. Thanks.

To Danielle, for letting your peanut gallery help my peanut gallery find their voices, and for being such a wonderful cheerleader.

To T. Stacy Hicks for (sometimes unknowingly) providing historical context and finesse.

To Dr. Robert O. Bucholz, for being an unparalleled pillar of inspiration for me and countless other students you’ve had throughout the years. Your storytelling is infectious, and your friendship and encouragement has been utterly amazing.

To Jon Balcerak, to whom I would have dedicated “Lavenza” if I’d have been given a space to do so. This is all your fault for teaching me to speak up and write better and enjoy this kind of thing.

To Grandma Sally, who gave me my first journals and taught me to love writing every day, and to savor each story worth telling.

To Grandpa John, Who took me seriously as a writer when I was seven, and who will never get the chance to read this, but whom I hope would be proud.

Thank you to my impossibly wonderful editor Jessica, whose ability to decipher my theatre-brain and my GIF-laden emails with ease is amazing. I am so grateful that your humor is like my humor, or this would have been a hell of a lot more difficult. Thanks also to Rie, Kristina, McKenna, Heidi, Penny, and the Xchyler Publishing family—I feel like the Velveteen Rabbit as a writer sometimes, and you guys made me a Real Writer.

To Tee Morris and Philippa Ballantine, for giving me an open door and their open hands to help me take the first steps, for being my Steampunk fairy godparents, and for the laughter and love even across the miles. Kia kaha and thank you.

To Tom Charney and Ann-Elizabeth Shapera, two of the most giving and inspiring and encouraging human beings I have ever known, for tunes, for noms, for hugs, for unyielding support and care even when we were mostly strangers still. I am unfathomably grateful for your presence in my life and I will always reach higher because you believed in me.

To Emily, for being the best cosmic hetero-lifemate the universe could possibly offer me. You are my constant, my touchstone.

To Claire, for being an anchor as well as a buoy, for taking very, very good care of me and for helping me be better in so many ways.

To Alexis, for allowing me to drink wine and shout things while she helped me fill out the project management workbook and try to organize this novel like a grown-up. Spreadsheets make me dizzy, and without you, I wouldn’t have been able to fill them out. Also, thank you for everything. Just everything. La la la la la la la.

Thank you to Mom, Dad, and Ben, without whom I would not be telling nearly so many stories or be nearly so dedicated to my dreams. If you hadn’t told me I could do it, I wouldn’t have tried. It’s that simple. I love you all.

Alyson Grauer
is a storyteller in multiple mediums, her two primary canvases being the stage and the page. On stage she is often seen in the Chicago area, primarily at Piccolo Theatre, Plan 9 Burlesque, and the Bristol Renaissance Faire. Her non-fiction work has been published in the
Journal for Perinatal Education
for Lamaze International. Her short fiction can be found in
Tales from the Archives (Volume 2)
for the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences and in two anthologies from Xchyler Publishing,
Mechanized Masterpieces: A Steampunk Anthology
and
Legends and Lore: an Anthology of Mythic Proportions
. Alyson is a proud graduate of Loyola University of Chicago and hails originally from Milwaukee, WI. This is her first novel.

Twitter:
@dreamstobecome

facebook.com/AuthorGrauer

At The X, we pride ourselves in discovery and promotion of talented authors. Our anthology project produces three books a year in our specific areas of focus: fantasy, Steampunk, and paranormal. Held winter, spring/summer, and autumn, our short-story competitions result in published anthologies from which the authors receive royalties.

Additional themes include:
Losers Weepers
(spring/summer 2015) and
Worldwide Folklore and the Post-modern Man
(winter 2016).

Visit
www.xchylerpublishing.com/AnthologySubmissions
for more information.

Look for these releases from Xchyler Publishing in 2015:

Winter Storm,
the third installment of the
Grenshall Manor Chronicles
by R. A. Smith. February 2015.

Vanguard Legacy: Fated
, the conclusion of the three-book series by Joanne Kershaw. April 2015.

Blondes, Books and Bourbon
, an anthology of short stories set in the
White Dragon Black
world of Jonathan Alvey, by R. M. Ridley. April 2015.

Everstar
by Candace J. Thomas, Book 3 of the
Vivatera
series.

To learn more, visit
www.xchylerpublishing.com
.

A Xchyler Publishing Sneak Peek

From Mechanized Masterpieces: A Steampunk Anthology

My name is Elizabeth Lavenza, and I am dreaming the same dream that has haunted me since I was a child.

I am lying on my back in my bed, and my skin is hot with fever. There is a sound like metal clicking, and a gentle voice is humming some unidentifiable, soothing tune. I open my eyes slowly, the room around me blurry and swimming with too-vibrant colors. My body is heavy as lead, my limbs limp against the mattress as someone peels back the sheets from my prone form. Gentle, firm hands cradle my head and prop me up against a pillow, and I can see before me.