Tag: Werewolves

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Starfang Chapter 12

So here we are at the conclusion of our superb web serial. Joyce’s novel ‘Heart of Fire’ will be out soon with Fox Spirit Books and if you’d like to see StarFang available as a novel please let us know. You can tweet @FoxSpiritBooks or use our contact page on the website. We are also keeping the giveaway open until the end of August, send us your fan art to be in with a chance of a copy of Heart of Fire in paperback. – Aunty Fox

***

Chapter Twelve

I spent a month recovering in Noah’s Ark. Of course, I was reprimanded by Mother and Father. I let my quarry get away. What happened to the blood feud? Why wasn’t I chasing him? They were shocked by the news of my craz addiction. Father wanted to pull me off-duty, but I fought and argued with him. I lost Mariette. I wanted revenge. It was more than clan honor now –  it was truly blood feud now. Yeung Leung had effectively drugged and killed Mariette, in spirit and in body. He had her blood – and countless others – on his hands. He had killed kin. My hatred for him burned like a white star.

Dr Myint and his colleagues worked on my right arm and hand. Some flesh was restored, but my right arm was

now crooked and unable to move. Even turning now was agony. My body was broken. Looking at my arm made my heart lurch. It was never easy, trying to reconcile t the shrunken arm with its former healthy version. With luck, Dr Myint reassured me, the arm would regain some tone.

In the midst of all this, Yeung Ma and her brother were kept in the clan prison for high-level criminals. They were given adequate food and water.

Lien was surprisingly welcomed by my clan, given her feral status and an Amber Eyes-Pariah child. She played with my younger cousins and cousins’ children, Mog play-bowing and happy to have play mates. Yet I caught Mother’s glance a few times, that calculating gleam in her eyes. She had something in mind and I didn’t like the taste of it.

Help her, the message had said. Help her.

When the month was over, I was ready for the hunt. The hunt for Yeung Leung.

Starfang slipped out of dock, like a silent predator.

 

 

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Chapter 11

Our fantastic web serial is almost over. Go back to the beginning and read it all.

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Chapter Eleven

I held the rose agate pendant so tightly in my grip that the contours pressed hard into my flesh. They were taking her away from me. She was screaming my name. Telling me not to save her. 

And somewhere, Lien was crying. Lien, the feral child on board Starfang. Her large eyes swam with glistening tears. 

I started awake, my heart pounding so hard it was painful. The ship was thrumming with a rhythm that immediately informed me that it was pushing its engine drive. It was moving hard, in one direction. Was it being pursued?

The dream hollowed me out. I cleaned up with a sense of grimness heavy in my limbs. The food was late again. I sipped the water, feeling the clawing demands of the hunger. Hurried footsteps halted in front of my door and a tray slid in, rattling loudly. There was only two slices of bread this time. As I paused to retrieve the tray, the footsteps pounded away with an urgency I found intriguing. S’sahrak was late too. S’sahrak was never late.

I pushed myself into nangun drills, ignoring the biting pangs in my stomach and in my veins. I kept the visions of April, my Pack-crew and Lien before me, goading myself on. Somewhere, they lived and that mattered.

Would they accept me, an addict to craz?

The ship suddenly shook significantly to knock me off my feet. I rolled onto my haunches, using my hands as traction. I was too experienced, too ship-wise, to know that was a strike on the ship’s flank, possibly starboard. When I carefully got up, another strike rattled the ship, a warning blow this time. Two ships seemed to be firing their cannons at it.

The door slammed open and S’sahrak stepped in. Immaculate and precise the shishini was, I sensed it was disturbed and harried.

“Please come with me,” S’sahrak said. Its rosettes were vivid brown now. I noticed the pistol hanging by its left side. It was an assault-type weapon used by many clans.

Two black-armored guards backed S’sahrak, carrying heavier weapons. They meant business, right down to their visored faces. I also smelled wolf off them. So, I was indeed on a clan ship. I inclined my head and walked out obediently. I couldn’t stare down the wolf guards – they must be trained to ignore the instinctual reactions when it came to more dominant clan members. I reined in my urge to escape – wait, Francesca, wait. Not now, not now.

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Starfang Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

I woke up from a dream where April sat before me, our chess set laid open, and the peepul tree rustled in the afternoon breeze. There was brewed jasmine tea on the marble table. Her eyes were intense, looking straight into me, while she pushed her Queen in front of my chess piece.

Her lips parted, whispered Love You. Something the real April wouldn’t do.

Yet, in the dream, I cherished those words. Held them to my chest, to my heart. They were my talisman, holding the demons at bay.

The drab surroundings greeted me. I sat up. Another day. S’sahrak would be arriving in twenty minutes for its “daily interrogation activities”. S’sahrak was punctual to a fault.

I tore into the bread, feeling the hollow and biting hunger inside me. The bread was laced with the drug. So was the water. Yet I ate and drunk. I needed to have energy to face S’sahrak. Somewhere in my head, I imagined copious amounts of Mother’s herbal tonics, dishes of delicious food, my favorite trotters in ginger and vinegar. Real things to sustain me, to keep me from falling. I wanted to fight the addiction.

~*~

“Consider this,” S’sahrak said, flexing its claws. I focused on the glistening half-moon talons, fascinated by their obsidian sheen.  “Consider this, your situation. Ever wondered why you were here.”

“You are an agent of Yeung Leung, my enemy,” I said calmly.

S’sahrak tilted its head. “As you wish.”

“You are not an agent then?” I pushed on.

The shishini did not answer. Instead, it began to pace around the table, tracing a definite pattern. “We of the claw are not confined by such restrictive parameters. Agent? Enemy? What are those words? They restrict us.”

“Now you are a philosopher,” I muttered.

“Shishini are philosophers,” S’sahrak said without missing a beat, its tail swinging a rhythm as it continued its pacing. “Like what is male or female, but restrictive and confining identifiers. We choose to be male or female or none, when we are ready to move on. You are restricted by your female-ness, but you choose to desire-to-mate with your first officer, have you not?”

Ice drenched my back. “How did you know?”

“I am an agent of Yeung Leung, am I not?”

“You speak in circles.”

“Life, my captain, is a circle.”

“Is it?” I admitted that S’sahrak’s pacing was hypnotic. The rosette patterns blurred with every circuit around the interrogation table. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear a nascent headache.

“Your bond with your first officer might be a liability, my captain.”

“I am not your captain,” I grit my teeth. They are going to go after her! April, no! I began to smile grimly, a wolf smile. No, April won’t let herself be caught that easily. April would hunt them down. April would destroy them.

“I see,” S’sahrak nodded slowly, as if it was contemplating a piece of outlandish artwork.  “Then why do you persist to be female?”

“Stop,” I said dangerously. “You are being oblique.”

“Am I not?”

I felt the wolf grow larger inside me, heard the growling in my throat. With iron will, I caged it back. “What do you want, S’sahrak? Irritate your prisoner?”

“Isn’t that my goal, my captain?” S’sahrak clicked its claw-tips together. Tink-tink-tink.

I stared directly at the shishini clawleader, staring straight into its pupil-less eyes. I felt as if I was looking into pools of oil.  Was S’sahrak male, female or none?

“I do not want to play games,” I said finally. “But if you want to play games, so will I.”

“As you wish.” A gentle incline of the saurian head. “You have to realize this is already a game. I am your captor. You are my prisoner. There is a relationship here I can exploit.”

Shishini play games. Mind games. They play them like puzzle games. Stay focused, Francesca. Do not lose it.

“Then how do I address you?” I sat down, the very picture of an obedient prisoner. Even a day-old pup would sniff out the pretense.

“Call me clawleader or S’sahrak,” the shishini said, settling down in front of me. Now we were face to face. “At the moment, I am none. I am rar.”

I nodded, wondering at the terms.

“Now shall we begin?”

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StarFang Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

A black wolf bounded towards me, running low, tail held high. I looked at my own body. I was weak, human-limbed, human-bodies. Pale of skin, weak, not-wolf.

I was standing in the no-place of the afterlife. Darkness, pierced by the occasional cold stare of stars.

“Aunt Gertrude?” I whispered as the black wolf moved closer, its amber eyes glistening brighter than suns.

Far from home, my grand-niece, the black wolf said.

“I am in a lot of trouble,” I replied. “Where am I?”

Afterlife, dream place, I don’t know, child. Whatever it is, I wish you the best of luck and strength. You need it. You have enemies who hound you, hate you.

My knees chose to become jelly then. I sank down, shivering. I was face to face with the wolf. I could see tears in her eyes. I wrapped my arms around the wolf, drawing strength and comfort. Her fur was warm, as if she had rested in the sun; I could smell the sun and a hint of herbs. And home, the forest, family. Everything I was far from.

“Please help me, Aunt Gertrude.”

I have strayed too far. I want to help you… but, my child, this is your trouble. You have the strength to deal with it. Best Yeung Leung. Best him.

“Yes, I will best him.”

The black wolf began to fade away, becoming lighter and lighter until the shape became transparent. The darkness around me grew stronger, shrouding me tighter. I began struggling.

“Aunt Gertrude!”

Best Yeung Leung.

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StarFang Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Accord Station was like any other dock I had visited: grey, functional and sterile. It had its pleasure and entertainment section of course, but the station’s circumference was dedicated to ship gantries and grapplers, numbered slots for the various ships that came to dock, refuel and re-stock. It hung-spun in space, beside the asteroid belt ringing the water planet Lucidia, a neutral dock, silent and majestic when seen on approach.  In the center of the circumference were Station control,  entertainment joints and the habitat section for the station workers and guests.

Station control didn’t bat an eyelid when five warships appeared at the borders, four escorting an enemy vessel. Calm instructions were given to us, our docking slots provided for our convenience. I was mentally calculating the bill for this re-stock and re-fuel, with half a mind to make the Amber Eyes pay half of it.

News would already be circulating on the station: four Black Talons ships escorting an Amber Eyes cruiser, do not get involved, do not get involved, stay down.

“Any other ships docked?” I drank in the sight of Accord, glad somewhat for a short breather.

“One shishini ship,” Mariette reported. “R’rrakak. Merchant ship dealing in ores.”

“Go on,” I flexed my hands, clenching them into fists.

“Two other merchant ships. Didn’t say where they are from. Merchants. Verity and The Joke.”

“Human?”

“Mixed. Station control claims that they are neutral. Clan-less.”

“I see.” Starfang was on automatic dock now, the machines and sensors taking over the procedure. “I will be at my headroom.”

~*~

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Next!!

We told you we had a lot lined up for 2014 right? Right?

Having just released the marvelous White Rabbit by K.A Laity and the first Young Adult novel, the excellent ‘Warrior Stone : Underland’ By R.B  Harkess we are not slowing down. Next up we have the two volumes of ‘The Girl at the End of the World’, ‘Missing Monarchs’, the part prose part poetry novella ‘The Velocity of Constant’ and what we are calling ‘the summer of the wolf’, because we have two werewolf novels coming up. ‘Heart of Fire’ by J.Damask and 25 Ways to Kill a Werewolf’ by Jo Thomas.

We’ve already show you the other covers, so here is Jo’s wraparound to keep you on the edge of your seat.

25 Ways Wrap 72ppi

 

Sign up to our newsletter for more information and a free sampler of forthcoming poetry chapbook ‘And the Fox Crows’ by V.C. Linde

It’s none stop in the Fox Den to bring you fantastic fiction.

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Chapter Six

And we return to our serial StarFang – Aunty Fox

 

Chapter Six

I only met April when we were ten. It was the year when our clan defeated the Amber Eyes and held a big celebration to honor this victory. It was also held during the Mid-Autumn Festival; the event was very grand with the entire clan and sub-clans gathering on Noah’s Ark. Clan duties had kept my aunt, April’s mother, away for a long time – and the celebration was the only time she could attend. She wasn’t a ship captain, but a planetary governor, overseeing the agricultural growth and exports of food. April was the only cousin I didn’t get to see during every Spring Festival.

Dressed in a sky blue gipao, I fidgeted and tugged at the horrible fabric which was making my skin itch. I was standing dutifully beside Father and Mother while they toasted the assembled guests, relatives and allies with expensive wine. The hunt would be later. I glanced around, feeling bored; the green forest was calling out to me. At the same time, I felt awkward and uncomfortable, all gangly limbs and a body which had started to rebel against me. I hated the idea of growing up. The stupid gipao was attenuating every curve, every bulge.

I caught the eye of another girl, about my age, dressed in a red gipao and looking as uncomfortable as I was. The red shimmered under the light of multiple lanterns hung in the guest hall like a contained fire.  She had huge eyes and curly black hair. But what drew my attention to her was her smile. It lit up the hall. I was suddenly consciousness of my hair, tied in a neat ponytail… and I wanted to tear out the stupid hair-band and run screaming away to the forest…

She smiled back and my world froze. I had never seen her before.

During the banquet, she came over, the strange new girl. She stretched out a hand in greeting.

“I am April Yue,” she said. Up close, she was pretty. “You must be my cousin, Ming Yue.”

This girl was my cousin. I tentatively grabbed that hand in return. She felt warm.

“Ma told me about you, said that there would be a girl about my age at the banquet,” April smiled. “Have you eaten already?”

I stared at the half-finished bowl of longevity noodles, my appetite gone. My parents were talking to their guests, going around each table, wine glasses in hand. I wasn’t part of their celebration.

“I am not hungry,” I said.

“Interestingly enough, so am I,” April shrugged. “You going for the hunt?”

“I can’t… turn yet,” I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden with heat. April pulled my hand and we slipped out of the banquet hall, which was loud with conversation, into the central courtyard with its lotus leaves and flowers. I often hid here, on normal days, to feed the koi fish that dwelled beneath the lotus leaves. As we ran along the corridor, the koi swirled in flame-colored patterns of red and orange, eager for their daily feed of fish food.

“I can’t either,” April said. “I can only do the eye-color changing thing.” She concentrated, inhaling slowly. Her eyes became gold with black rings. “But everyone can do that and turning is not a competition.” The gold faded back to brown.

A long howl interrupted our conversation. It was the signal for the hunt.

We didn’t take part in the hunt until we reached fourteen, the age where most youth experienced their first turning. By then, we had spent so much time together, my aunt having sent April to study at the school before entering the academy.

April gave me a rose agate pebble with smooth edges when I turned thirteen. It fit in the center of my palm. She said that she found it while she scoured the beach. She loved beaches. I loved her for that. When we were twelve, we realized our relationship was different. We were cousins, but we felt something stronger than that. Young as we were, we couldn’t describe how we felt.

I had the pebble made into a pendant. I didn’t wear it though. Instead I kept it in the main drawer of my desk on board the ship, to remind myself of what was real and tangible.

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Author Post : Rahne Sinclair

The Wolf in Fantasy by Rahne Sinclair

Regardless of where or what historical epoch a fantasy novel is set, there is a very specific subset of animals usually contained therein, and there is a high chance that the wolf is among them. There is something about the wolf that makes it an enduring part of our myths and legends.  Whether anthropomorphised to a loyal or magical being, or demonised to an evil adversary, this creature has played both hero and the villain in our stories.

Our early hunter-gatherer ancestors invited the wolf to his fireside and utilised its natural abilities to aid in their own survival. Overtime, further domestication and selective breeding turned the wolf into the dog we know today.

Man-kind then turned on its four-legged friend’s wild cousin. Medieval kings were known to offer great reward or pardons for a sack of wolf pelts. They were derided and hunted to extinction in many countries. The last wolf in the UK was killed in 1743. Conversely, many lords and knights would take the wolf as their emblem, signifying their strength in battle, their ferocity, and a warning to their enemies they were not to be tangled with.

As stories and fairy tales began to emerge, this hatred was reflected in the stories told and for many centuries, the traditional role of a wolf in fiction was as the enemy. Little Red Riding Hood was a story that used the wolf to represent the dangers of the forest, as opposed to the safety of the village, but by no means was it the only story to feature a big bad wolf. In J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, white wolves terrorise The Shire, and the Orcs hang out with Wargs. Maugrim of C S Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a shining example of how wolves were thought of as sly, cunning, and ferocious.

As mankind re-learns the truth about this contender for our apex predator status, our perception of wolves has changed drastically in the past few decades, undergoing something of a 360 degree reversal to portray the wolf in a more positive light. Different aspects of the wolf’s personality are focused on. Their pack mentality epitomises some of the aspects of ‘family’. They share child care duties, and are fiercely protective of their young. In books like Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling, the orphan Mowgli is raised by a she-wolf. In G.R.R. Martin’s Songs of Ice and Fire, the dire-wolves are given as pets to the Stark family’s children, who become companion and protector. Even YA and children’s stories have reflected this new admiration for the wolf. Michelle Paver’s Chronicles of Ancient Darkness show the wolf as a constant companion to the young hero as he battles evil during the Stone Age.

The newest trope for wolves has to be as the ‘love interest’. More accurately, this pertains to werewolves, rather than wolves, and is greatly at odds with its origins in Greek mythology and horror. With TV shows like Buffy and Being Human, the werewolves are still violent and bestial, but their human counterpart is a figure we are meant to empathise with. In Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaba, Remus Lupin is a greatly admired teacher who has to endure his curse. This is countered by Fenrir Greyback in The Half Blood Prince, who revels in his wolf nature. In the case of books like The Southern Vampire Chronicles (True Blood), plus countless erotic fictions, the human form of the werewolf represents the ultimate alpha male character. A character whose is strong, confident, protective and assertive, yet at times gentle and loving.

Similar to its real-world inspiration, the wolf in fantasy is still evolving. Like the best type of hero, the wolf has had a shady past, but is now a much reformed character.

Odin_and_Fenrir

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Announcing – 25 Ways to Kill a Werewolf

You may have spotted mutterings and rumours about this, but I am pleased to formally announce that Fox Spirit will be publishing ’25 Ways to Kill a Werewolf’ a YA novel by Jo Thomas (@journeymouse) later this year.

I’m delighted Jo will be joining us at Fox Spirit, she has written an unusual and entertaining novel that is perfect for readers who prefer their werewolves to be primal killers and who like their heroines smart and capable.

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