I am pleased to announce that Rewritten I: Fallacy will be released in various ebook formats on October 25, 2012.

***

A scientist mad with grief; a mother trying to escape guilt; a little girl’s worst nightmare; a mistake with unforeseen consequences.

What if your life—your world—your memories—were a lie?

Nothing can be taken for granted. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Each person holds a different shard of the truth, and none of them are eager to share it.

***

“Stop trying to make me mad,” Ray muttered. Jauge’s grin vanished.

“That’s all you’re meant to be,” Jauge said. Ray fought back the fury that rose in her chest at Jauge’s condescending tone. “You don’t know what you’re looking for, Ray. You don’t know what your home is. What questions would get you there?”

“My home is in Phoenix,” Ray said.

“And Phoenix is hot, isn’t it?” Jauge said. “The sky burns you?”

“My home is in Phoenix,” Ray said, more fiercely.

“Odd, then, that you should find yourself in a forest in late autumn,” Jauge continued. “Odd that you should recognize me, when I’ve never seen a desert in my life.”

***

More Information

• Sample (first 50 pages)
• Progress Blog 
• KickStarter

If you’ve been interested in Untold Memories at all, now’s the time to jump in! I’ve just added a new reward: now anyone who pledges $1+ will get their name (or the name of their choice) listed in the Acknowledgments section of the book! (This applies to everyone who pledges for any of the rewards listed, not just those who pledge for the $1 reward.)

This is your chance to get a host of awesome, KickStarter-exclusive rewards. They will not be offered anywhere else!

Every dollar helps.

The Untold Memories KickStarter ends on May 31—the day after tomorrow! It’s an all or nothing deal, so if I don’t make my goal, I don’t get a dime.

Untold Memories is a four book series; the first book in the quartet is set in a dystopian fantasy village where thinking wrong thoughts could get you killed, purity is all, and people are divided into strictly divided hierarchies based on birth. There is a latent magic coursing through the world, its various forms manifested by all, wielded by few, and mastered by none.

A review of the book: “Untold Memories is the kind of book that pulls people in. I was planning on doing homework and going to bed early that night, when I started proofreading this. And I ended up not getting much done that night, went to bed kinda late, because it just pulls people in. You know, most of the experience of reading this book is discovering more about this world Morgan has created, and you find that you care about the characters as people, with all of the virtues and flaws that make them people. It’s a good book. I would recommend reading it. It will also make you think.”

If we hit stretch goals, everyone’s prizes go up, so spread the word!

Details on how the money will be spent can be found here, a KickStarter backing tutorial can be found here, and you can contact me here with any questions or concerns!

60 hours remain in the Untold Memories KickStarter! (I know it says 62 in the screencapture; I took that when I saw that I had 130 facebook likes. I was more than a little bowled over by that!)

~

What is this?

This is a KickStarter campaign to fund the production of ebooks and/or audiobooks for the Untold Memories series. Untold Memories has been in production for almost ten years now, and has undergone a large number of revisions. At present, eight books are fully written drafts, a branch series is in the works, and a 200+ page book of character back stories is in progress. 

The premise is explained in greater detail elsewhere, so I will instead describe the series as a whole. Untold Memories is meant to be a dark, realistic fantasy. Magic isn’t a cure-all; it’s difficult to wield and nearly impossible to consciously tame. Some villages have forgotten about magic altogether, even though it hasn’t forgotten about them. Even in the most mundane settings, it leaves its mark—in some cases going completely unnoticed by those it affects.

There’s a lengthy sample here, a video with a KickStarter tutorial here, and a video explaining the project here.

~

Pledge Rewards:

$5: All of the ebooks and audiobooks unlocked by the deadline! (This is included in every other pledge reward above this, as well.)

$10:  5 trivia facts about the book-related area of your choice! (example topics: Regional Food, Regional Culture, Regional Myths; Book Production, Book Writing, Book Editing; Character X’s Quirks, Character Y’s History, or Character Z’s Relationships.)

$15 - $40, $100: Pick any character who appears in the books, no matter how obscure, and pick a moment ($15 - $40) or their entire life ($100), and I’ll write it for you! Prices vary by length. (100 words to 7~30 pages.)

$50: Postcards from your favorite character! These will be completely unique and personalized. They may include handwritten message, diagrams, drawings, coded messages, or anything else your chosen character might send to you. One a month for an entire year! (Just in case they get lost in the mail, I’ll also email you a scan of them.)

$60: The ORIGINAL Untold Memories! I still have some copies of the second draft of the first book. $60 means that you’ll get a signed copy of one with a personal note. Also, if you want, I’ll write commentary all over the interior—drawings, trivia, etc. These will NEVER be sold again if this KickStarter succeeds!

$75: You get an early copy of the ebook (to be kept top secret) and get your tweet-length review put on the back of the actual book when it’s released—pending approval, of course.

$125: You get to spend an hour talking to me over the phone, Skype, or GoogleChat. I’ll answer questions, give the dirt on minor characters, and offer details on obscure places and people in the series!

$150: A write up that details my writing and editing process, a comparison of all of the drafts that it took to reach this point, and regular (optional) updates about my writing process as I revise and publish the rest of the series.

$500: 

→ Early previews of the books before they go to print (to be kept top-secret, or I’ll revoke this privilege)

→ Paperback copies all four of the new books when they come out

→ → Signed

→ → Including a personal note

→ → Also including optional doodles and commentary on many of the pages in the books

→ → Each with a handmade bookmark (so 4 altogether)

→ → → Each of which has a handwritten trivia fact about that book

→ An hour-long discussion with me about the books 

→ The write up describing my writing process that sets the various drafts side by side 

→ → As well as the optional progress emails

→ Mentioned in the Acknowledgments section by name

→ All of the unlocked ebooks

→ All of the unlocked audiobooks

→ The 7-30 page background story of a character of your choice

→ A say in which scenes to have illustrated, since you’ll have read an advance copy of the book

$1000: 

→ The $500 reward, plus: 

→ The ORIGINAL Untold Memories reward

→ 50 trivia facts about the book in the 10 areas of your choice (example topics: Regional Food, Regional Culture, Regional Myths; Book Production, Book Writing, Book Editing; Character X’s Quirks, Character Y’s History, or Character Z’s Relationships. This can also be chosen randomly if you can’t decide.)

→ Short vignettes about 5 characters (up to 250 words each) (These can also be chosen randomly if you can’t decide.)

→ AND personalized, monthly postcards from your favorite Untold Memories character for the next year! If you opt to have all physical rewards delivered at the same time, I will send you 12 personalized postcards from each of 3 characters of your choice (rather than from a single character)

→ →These may include handwritten text, drawings, diagrams, cryptic codes, or anything else your favorite character might say—addressed directly to you!

~

Picture Credits:

The cover art as well as the character art of Raven (one of the main characters in the first book) are by Kaorien

The QR code was generated with qurify.

The original cover art was by lifewithoutdeath about five or six years ago. 

(Chapters 1-6 can be found here; press the j key to jump past this post if you’d prefer, or check here for more details.)

The main hall had a high ceiling, and eleven rows of tables running from left to right. There were four entrances, one on each wall. The tables to the left were covered in fine china and had well-made clay cups, while the tables to the right had chipped plates and mugs with broken handles. Raven directed her to a table a little toward the right. As people filed into the room, Ray realized that they were sorting themselves according to the color of their clothes, but it was a pattern that made no sense to her.

“Look at the table,” Raven whispered. Ray could barely hear her over the shuffling of feet, the creak and clatter of benches accommodating hundreds of people, but she obeyed reluctantly. Black, blue, red, yellow, gray, brown, purple, green—they were in the green rows, surrounded by other women in cotton dresses, although Ray could tell that the women further down the table, toward the far door, were wearing other fabrics. Raven kicked her, and she looked down again, running her finger across the surface of the table.

It left a green trail, exactly the same hue as her dress. Ray froze, but Raven looked up at her with stern eyes.

“Better posture,” she mouthed. Ray sat upright, wincing a little at a kink in her back. “Don’t make faces. No smiles, no frowns, nothing.” Raven’s voice was quiet, but clear. Ray fought the urge to roll her eyes, stifled a sigh, and let Raven force her hands to her side, although her eyes watched the green streak until it faded from sight.

Suddenly, the room fell silent. Ray tried to look up, but Raven grabbed her dress. She stared at her plate and cup instead, listening intently for some sort of explanation for the silence. Her cup had a crack that ran most of the way down its side, and her plate had such a large chip missing that Ray worried it would break if she lifted it up. It was stained and sticky with something that caught the light from the high windows. Maybe juice?

The silence didn’t break. Women carrying baskets of fruit and pitchers of water traveled down the lines, starting with the black table and moving forward. Ray kept her eyes fixed on her plate and cup until a woman in an orange dress stopped behind her. Wylwon lifted her hand and pressed it against the table, leaving a green stain the color of a lime’s skin. It was the shape of her handprint, as clearly as if she’d dipped her hand in paint first. The woman tipped her head and set down what looked like a large apple that had a dark, green skin.

Ray mimicked Wylwon, leaving a green handprint that was a hue darker than Wylwon’s. Tipping her head again, the woman in orange set another dark green fruit down on Ray’s plate. Ray opened her mouth to thank the woman, but Raven’s grip on her dress tightened, and Ray closed her mouth. Another woman, this one in yellow with a haughty expression of condescension, came by to pour water into her cup. It leaked out through the crack, and the woman sneered, though she said nothing. Anger flared in Ray’s chest, but Raven’s hand was insistent.

The sound of eating was a low bustle in the hall; people didn’t speak, but they shifted, and the fruits seemed to have a little crunch to them. Ray eyed hers warily, not sure how to go about eating it. It was larger than her too-large hands, wide enough that taking a bite seemed as though it would be problematic.

“Eat,” Raven whispered, taking a bite of the fruit. Ray held in a sigh and picked up the heavy fruit. It was cool to the touch; she took a bite and found that its texture was like that of an apple, though its juice was as plentiful and sweet as a pear’s. It tasted better than she’d expected, though she still wished for something warm.

Ray heard the sound of ceramic shattering. She began to turn, but Raven yanked her back and tipped her arm upward. Ray ate obediently, though her ears were pricked, and it was a struggle to keep her eyes on her plate.

“Kywonnh hakkyllida, plyam essa,” a woman’s voice begged. Quiet though it was, it was easy to discern in the quiet hall. She seemed to be near tears, or worn ragged with exhaustion. Ray guessed that she was middle-aged. “Tah te srenaspata. Shaal te e kerren!”

“Foorynakh,” an old woman’s voice said. She seemed to be sitting at the black table, and her voice was lazy and regal. Though there was nothing menacing in her tone, a shudder seemed to run through the crowd. The fruit tasted bitter in Ray’s mouth. “Kyp te kevvensa uyo, te tuo iya? Chy ny kyp errevanpata ky ny shaan. Tyff te chy yulln nu aren?”

There was a moment of silence. A child seemed to be choking back a sob.

“Etten,” the woman replied, her voice hoarse.

“Fy,” the old woman chuckled. “Ypuroesh.”

“Ermen?” The first woman’s voice caught, and the child sobbed, whispering something that Ray couldn’t make out. The rest of the people in the hall went back to eating, ignoring the scene entirely. Raven bit her lip, though, and Ray knew by their tones of voice that something was wrong.

“Lon-om,” the older woman replied, her voice suddenly sharp. Ray went back to eating slowly as silence lapsed, but suddenly the silence was broken by a sharp crack and a child’s wail. Raven dragged Ray’s gaze back to her plate, but the sound came again and again—it was the sound of a slap. By the end, the child was sobbing, and Ray’s hands were shaking. Somehow, the food on her plate was gone, and her fingers and lips were sticky with its juice. It tasted like bile in her throat. The room began to clear, and the footsteps of a hundred people drowned out the child’s soft, hiccuping sobs.

Raven dragged her to the door, glaring at Ray when she made to turn back and look for the crying child. The crowd dispersed; those in black went to the first row of houses, those in blue to the next. Beneath her feet, the dirt felt cold through the thin soles of Ray’s shoes, and the bright air felt dank on her skin. Her ribbons clung tightly to her skin, tugging little enough that Ray could ignore them, but never enough that she could fully forget them.

“What was that about?” Ray hissed, her voice catching in her throat. She felt sick. “What happened back there?”

“Wait until we’re home,” Raven murmured, looking at some women in pink as they bowed ahead of her, hiding a child in their midst. “I told you to stay quiet.”

Ray gritted her teeth. The sound of the little girl wailing still rang in her ears, making her want to leap to her feet and demand that they leave the poor kid alone—whatever she’d done, there was no reason to hit her like that! Ray had smacked Raven a few times in the past, but Raven had never wailed like that: a headache snapped at Ray as she even considered the thought, and she pulled back.

Finally, Raven darted ahead and slid open the door, letting Wylwon and Ray through before slipping inside and shutting the door.

“What was that about?” Ray demanded, keeping her voice low. “Why did they beat up that kid?”

“She broke a plate,” Raven said, looking away. Wylwon watched them with furrowed eyebrows, clearly lost. “You never balked at hitting anyone who misbehaved,” Raven whispered. Ray bit her tongue, fighting down her frustration.

“Why’d they beat her up, though?” Ray demanded. “Our plates looked like they’d been banged around by a toddler. I bet that the plates further down the line were even worse!”

“The Pink family barely gets anything that’s not in pieces,” Raven said. She sighed. “The Yellow woman who was pouring the water knocked the girl’s plate onto the ground on purpose. She’s the one who broke it.”

“But then why blame the girl?” Ray asked, trying to run a hand through her hair and finding her progress halted by the braid. “Smack that stupid smirk off the woman in the yellow dress. Don’t beat up a kid!”

“It’s not just a dress, Ray,” Raven said, pulling a hand through her own curls. She led Ray to the right, opening a door that opened into the space beneath the loft. It looked like a closet. Ray waited for Raven to explain, and finally Raven sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “That woman was a pure Yellow. Completely pure. Sure, she was Cotton, too, but that’s a Rayain distinction. I told you that Rayai takes its Colors seriously. Do you honestly believe that a Yellow woman would be blamed when a Pink child could take it for her?”

“What are you talking about?” Ray demanded, falling back against the wall and sliding down to look across at Raven. “What’s with all this Color stuff? I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Sure you don’t,” Raven muttered, rolling her eyes. “Come on, we only get a few more minutes before it’s time for mandatory exercise, and then you have to go off to Keshaan training. Ask me something useful.”

“I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Ray snapped. “What colors? What do you mean, pure? What’s this about cotton?”

“Cotton is a Rayain way of making more distinctions between the Colors,” Raven said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Cotton is the lowest. Wool is above Cotton, Velvet is above Wool, and Silk is above Velvet.”

“Wool? I didn’t see any place for livestock,” Ray said, thinking of the lack of meat and the tall rows of fruit plants.

“I call it wool, but that’s just because there’s no word for it in English,” Raven sighed. “Same with silk. They make everything from plant fibers. I just call it that based on the texture. Come on, Ray, I’m sure that you have more important questions. I’m only going to answer one more.”

“Explain these colors to me, then,” Ray said, leaning back against the cool wood and closing her eyes. “What’s this about purity? And why did that woman at the black table have any right to tell the woman to beat up her kid?”

“That woman was the Black Council Woman,” Raven said. “I guess you wouldn’t know about that, since we didn’t have a Council in Phoenix. That old woman was Araya Devolair Thyn.” Fury flashed in Ray’s chest, so powerful and sudden that it scared her. It felt separate from her, like she was experiencing someone else’s fury. Raven sighed, and Ray became aware of the world around her again. The wood was cold and rough against her palms, even though they were thick with callouses that weren’t hers. Her breaths came with little puffs of steam, and she shivered in the cold.

Raven sat back. “I don’t want to explain the Council right now,” she sighed, sliding a hand over her eyes. “It’s hard enough to explain it without trying to cram it into the ten minutes before mandatory exercises.” She looked at Ray, her eyes serious. “Don’t bother asking about the exercises. Just follow the lead of the woman in front of you, and you’ll be fine. Mommy’s body should know the stretches, anyway. She’s done them every day since she was three years old.”

“You said that I’d get one more question!” Ray said, exasperation leaking into her tone. Raven rolled her eyes.

“You asked three,” Raven said. Leaning forward, she narrowed her eyes. “I told you—I’m not scared of you any more. You’re not going to terrify me into doing whatever you want me to do. Mommy won’t let you hurt me, I know it. If you even try, then she’ll rush back to get me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Ray snapped. She tried again to run a hand through her hair and cursed when it snagged in her braid. “I just want to know what’s going on!”

Raven looked at Ray warily, balancing on the balls of her feet as though she might leap away at any moment.

“You’re my sister, Ray, right?” Raven murmured. Her tone was so vulnerable that Ray felt startled. Raven sounded young again, and her guard was slipping. A part of Ray geared up to strike, but the rest of her shoved it down. “What do you mean when you say that you don’t want to hurt me?”

“I have no reason to hurt you,” Ray said, trying to make her tone convey how earnest she felt. “I don’t know why I’ve been feeling angry like this—it doesn’t make sense, and it doesn’t feel like it’s me that’s getting angry.And even if the sight of you makes me feel like I want to punch something, itshouldn’t mean that I’m actually going to snap and punch you—you’re just a kid.” Ray put her head in her hands, feeling dizzy and nauseous. “I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what I’m doing here. Everything is all wrong, and I can’t put any of the pieces together. Any time I try, my head feels like it’s splitting open.”

Raven was silent for a long moment. Wind rattled the paper windows that caught the light and brightened the whole house; they looked faintly green.

“We’ll get in trouble if we don’t exercise,” Raven said quietly, getting to her feet and dusting off her dress. Ray looked up; Raven’s expression was soft and pensive. Examining Ray’s face, she nodded. “I’ll explain after training. Just don’t talk to anyone, keep your head down, and do as you’re told. When you go to Keshaan training, go off on your own and pretend to meditate. It’ll look like you’ve failed, but it should keep you mostly out of trouble.”

Ray opened her mouth to reply, but Wylwon opened the door beside her, peering in with nervous eyes. Her hair was coming free of its ponytail again, and her bottom lip was red from being bitten.

“Te ko junak?” she whispered, looking at Raven, but glancing at Ray. Her expression filled with concern as she met Ray’s eyes, but she looked away quickly.

“Iya,” Raven replied. Wylwon stiffened, and Raven shook her head. “Soosh… Tah kemmenina, Wylwon Es. Tah by kemmenina.”

“Saye ko gott?” Wylwon asked, and Raven nodded. Wylwon looked at Ray, eyebrows drawn up with regret, biting her lip again. She sighed. “Et tohn toqu nu fa.”

“We have to go,” Raven said. Ray pushed herself to her feet. “Just do whatever Wylwon does in front of you; we’ll be in a line. Don’t mess anything up, and don’t talk, no matter what happens. You kept trying to look when that little girl was getting slapped. Don’t. There’s nothing you can do, and if you do anything to stop them, it’s not just you who’s going to pay the price.”

Raven walked out the door, and after a moment, Ray went after her. Nerves knotted themselves around her stomach.

“What do you mean?” Ray asked. Raven hesitated just outside the door to the outside, her hand in the notch to slide it open.

“Well, it depends on how badly you mess up,” Raven said quietly. “I didn’t think you’d care if you weren’t the one in danger.”

“What do you mean?” Ray said again, dreading the answer. Her own voice sounded low, dangerous, and foreign to her. Raven looked at the ground, digging her fingers into the door’s notch.

“Well, just don’t mess up,” Raven said. “If you do, well, I might not be here to answer any of your questions.”

(more excerpts and information)

(Chapters 1-5 can be found here; press the j key to jump past this post if you’d prefer, or check here for more details.)

Golden light filled the room when Ray next opened her eyes. Blinking to blot out its brightness, Ray sat bolt upright. Raven jumped. Her hair was shorter than it had been when Ray had last seen her, Ray noticed. The tightly wound curls poofed out when her hair was cut too short. More unfamiliar still was Raven’s smile.

“Mommy!” Raven said, grinning at her. “It’s time to go to breakfast now. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m not your mother,” Ray said, forcing her mouth not to snap. There was no reason to be so angry! She looked at the ground and willed herself to calm down. “I’m your sister.”

“What?” Raven asked, her voice little more than a breath. Ray was surprised by the sudden tension in the air, and she looked up at Raven’s horrified face. “Wylwon said that you were acting kinda strange, but…”

“I’m Ray,” Ray said. “Why does everyone keep telling me that you’re my daughter? What am I doing here?”

“Jauge,” Ravensaid, and sherecoiled,eyes wide.Ray put her head in her hands—Raven never got angry.

“Nothing makes sense,” she whispered. “Everything is—muddled. Why am I so mad at you, Raven?”

“You’ve always hated me, Ray,” Raven whispered. “Ever since the moment I was born. I don’t want you here!” Raven’s tone was sharp enough that Ray looked up at her. “Get out of Mommy! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!”

“What are you talking about, brat?” Ray demanded, unable to tamp down the frustration in her chest. “I didn’t come here to get you! Hell, I don’t even want to be here! If you want me to go away, tell me how to get home.”

Tears pooled in Raven’s eyes, and her lower lip trembled. It was a face that Ray recognized better than any, and it made her angrier still.

“You have no home!” Raven shouted, her hands clenched into fists.

“Foorynahk!” Wylwon called, and Raven fell silent. Ray looked over to find Wylwon’s voice and saw her climbing down a ladder—there were two lofts in the house, it seemed, and neither had a railing.

“I’m n-not afraid of you any more,” Raven hissed, leaning forward to look into Ray’s eyes. “You’re not d-doing this to me again. Let go of Mommy and quit haunting me!”

“Shut up!” Ray said, shoving Raven backward to get her out of her face. Ray breathed hard, trying to calm herself down. “I didn’t even do anything!”

Raven laughed, but it sounded half-mad.

“Stop laughing at me!” Ray snapped, leaping to her feet to tower over Raven. Raven didn’t stop laughing, though the laughs began to warp into sobs, and tears slipped down Raven’s cheeks. Ray grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her face so close to Raven’s that their noses touched. “What the hell is going on?” Ray whispered, squeezing Raven’s shoulders with hands that were too big. Raven began to stifle her sobs, and Ray pulled back, looking over the edge of the loft. Wylwon was looking at her with distressed eyes. Suddenly, as Raven quieted, Ray felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She spun to look at Raven, heart pounding, and saw that Raven’s face was a mask of rage.

“I’m not going to push you,” Raven said. “I love Mommy; I wouldn’t hurt her no matter what. But I want you to l-leave right now.”

“I don’t know where I am!” Ray said, her heart slowing a little. “Why are you so mad at me? I know that I teased you, but—”

“No,” Raven said, looking up at her with an expression torn by grief. “I’m n-not going to answer your questions. If you can’t leave, then I’m going to make sure you don’t misbehave and get Mommy in trouble. She’ll come back to me. I know she will.”

“What are you talking about?” Ray asked, her headache pounding so loudly that it drowned out all her thoughts. It was too much—Ray didn’t want to fit the pieces together. “Who’s your Mommy? You always called Mom ‘Marissa’. Where is she?”

“It’s time for breakfast,” Raven said. Ray snapped up to look at her, but Raven didn’t meet her glare. Raven’s eyes were distant. “I have to do up your braid before you go. You’ll get in trouble if you go out without it.”

Ray’s head cleared enough to let her wonder about the braid, but the pain surged again as she tried to think about her own hair. She sank to her knees and let Raven braid her hair.

“Why would I get in trouble for having my hair loose?” Ray asked.

“Don’t say a single word at breakfast,” Raven said firmly. “No questions. I’ll answer for you if you’re asked anything. Only the Pinks would understand English, anyway.”

“Pinks?” Ray repeated. Raven tugged her hair into place, making Ray wince.

“Keep your eyes off the ground and off their faces,” Raven continued, tying a string around the base of the braid. “Mommy is Green, and Rayai takes its Colors very seriously. We’re not Primaries here. The Secondaries eat after the Primaries, answer to the Primaries, and do exactly as they’re told. Don’t object to anything, no matter what you see.”

“What?” Ray asked. Her headache was gone, but Raven’s words didn’t make sense. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t be late,” Raven finished, getting to her feet and dusting straw off of her green dress. Ray noticed that she had been sleeping on a mound of straw, and began to pick them out of her dress. Raven did it more efficiently, removing them all in a few, quick swipes.

“You have to slow down,” Ray said. “Give me ten minutes to get my head around this stuff! Why won’t you answer—”

“You don’t deserve answers,” Raven muttered, walking to the ladder. “When Mommy comes back, the point will be moot.”

Ray looked down at her hands, which were plainly not her own hands. They were tough with callouses, and the fingers were long. Dark green ribbons, the same color as her dress, crisscrossed up her arms.

“What are these?” Ray asked, and Raven hesitated on the ladder, biting her lip.

“Don’t take those off,” Raven said. The anger in her tone had grown weary. “Please, Ray. Please just do what I say and keep yourself out of trouble.”

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” Ray insisted. “I don’t understand anything. Everything makes me angry, and I don’t know why.”

“You were an angry person,” Raven whispered. “Whenever I was around, anyway. I can’t talk about the past, Ray—I don’t want to remember it. But I’ll help you get through this, if only so that Mommy isn’t in trouble when she comes back. You have to do exactly what I tell you.”

Ray sighed, dragging herself to her feet. “Fine,” she said, the fire gone out of her. “I’ll keep my head down and keep quiet.”

“Now come on,” Raven said, hopping onto the ladder and starting to climb down. “We’re going to be late, and I don’t think that you want thirty switches with a wooden stick.”

(more excerpts and information)

(Chapters 1-4 can be found here; press the j key to jump past this post if you’d prefer, or check here for more details.)

Ray moved through the darkness, effecting a false confidence as she went, trying to move as silently as Jauge had. The glint that had been in Jauge’s eye before she turned away kept Ray from listening to her advice; it was better to do as she’d seen Jauge do.

Ray felt out of sorts. Her head was spinning, and although she’d gotten her legs under control, hyperventilating and bursting into panicked running at the snap of a twig weren’t making the rest of her body respond well. She felt a lingering sense of vertigo.

How had she met Jauge? Ray had recognized that half-smile—it was something from a dream, or maybe a nightmare. The breeze picked up, and Ray trembled. Raven was waiting for her in Rayai, whatever Rayai was supposed to be. Of all the people that could have been there, why did it have to be the brat that Ray had to turn to?

Everything was slipping away from her in the darkness. Her mother’s face looked like a ghost’s, without substance or defined features. All she could see of Meg were her sad, green eyes. Her father was a silhouette in the doorway, keys in his hand, the scent of a perfume that made her gag clinging to his faded coat. What color was her mother’s hair? Did Meg smell like chlorine from all her time in the pool? What did her father’s voice sound like?

Ray clutched her head, breathing hard as she slowed from a run. The cracked bark looked like hideous, screaming faces, and, for an instant, the shadows looked like blood on her hands. Closing her eyes, Ray tried to imagine Raven. Red curls and brilliant, green eyes that always seemed to be reddened by tears. Cheeks dusted with freckles, and the smell of soap and clean cotton; a voice that stammered and caught when she was nervous. It was all there in her mind: Raven was clear when the others were muddy. Fury and frustration bit at Ray’s emotions.

“Why am I so mad at her?” Ray whispered, staring through her fingers at the pale, silvery soil. She knew there was a reason, even though it eluded her the harder she sought it. Ray shook her head, which was ringing with pain. The path was dark, and her stomach growled with hunger, making her jump. Pushing it all aside, Ray continued down the path.

It could have been hours; it could have been minutes. There was no way to mark the time or the endless trees, which stood so thick and tall that Ray wondered whether she could leave the path even if she wanted to try it. It got denser and denser as Ray went forward, until the narrow trunks stood only a hand’s width apart, barely visible through the tightly knitted canopy, which blocked out almost all light.

At long last, moonlight glistened on the dirt ahead, and the trees opened. Ray let out a breath that she hadn’t known she was holding, but it caught in her throat. She felt eyes on her, watching her as she walked into the village. Shuddering, Ray looked around. The houses stood in neat lines, each identical to the other. With each progressive ring, the houses got taller, wider, and more elaborate, but it was the outermost ring that drew her attention. Faces clustered in the windows, their eyes turned directly on Ray. Each head had white hair, even the little children that could barely look over the sill.

Ray stared them down, and they vanished into the dark depths of the houses. Not a single house was lit as far as the eye could see. Ray glanced back at the windows, and saw the faces disappear again, flitting away at the edge of her vision. The isolation was profound, and Ray suddenly missed Wylwon, who had at least wanted her to follow. Nowhere felt safe.

Taking carefully measured breaths, Ray looked up into the sky. Three moons hung in the purple sky. One was just a circle of black, but another was a bright gray that looked like the dusty soil beneath her feet, and the final moon was a shockingly pure white that shone like a beacon in the sky. All the clouds that she’d seen at the lake were long gone. The sky was spotless. There was nothing to make her mistake the three moons—nothing to explain it away. Ray bit her tongue and looked at the ground, not ready to think about it. Her eyes were clouded with exhaustion, as though she’d been up since dawn, and her dress was crusty and heavy from the water.

“Where do I go?” Ray whispered. She couldn’t bring herself to walk past the unblinking eyes that examined her on all sides; she couldn’t bear to go back into the forest, with the shapes that darted in and out of sight, and the distant howls of predators that had caught their prey. There had been coyotes in Phoenix, but their calls hadn’t been half as mournful, hadn’t been half as eerie as these creatures that ran out of sight in the underbrush. Even the cat-like eyes that watched her in the pool of moonlight weren’t as unsettling.

Ray found herself shaking when she looked around again. Clear, straight roads stretched for rows and rows of buildings. Ray looked at the outermost ring—five houses in a row. To her left, where the row stopped, stood a slightly larger building, austere and intimidating. To her right was a field lined with neat rows of plants, each bearing fruit or vegetables that glinted in the moonlight. The only way that looked at all promising was forward, past the watching eyes. Ray swallowed and took a step forward, noting that the faces withdrew at her approach.

As she walked forward, she counted the rows that she passed. One: the watchers dropped out of sight. Two: no windows to let her get even a glimpse of the inhabitants. Three: A little glow appeared behind a paper screen, only to be quickly put out. Four: Raven’s face watched her from a crack in the doorway to her left.

Before Ray could do more than whip around to get a better look, Raven launched herself at her. Ray took a step backward, but Raven’s arms closed around her, pulling her into an embrace so tight that it left Ray breathless. The little brat was smaller than Ray remembered, though there was something older about her face.

“Why are you—?” Ray began, but Raven shook her head. Something in Ray gave way to relief—it was like something that she saw, rather than felt. But then, so suddenly it stunned her, Ray felt rage boil upward at the sight of Raven’s red curls. The rage was as abstract and detached from her as the relief had been—Ray didn’t know which emotion was actually her own.

“Come this way, Mommy,” Raven whispered, tugging her toward the house to her left. Ray went, though something in her tried to make her drag her feet. Ray felt splintered; none of her emotions fit or made sense. Her head ached so badly that it made her vision distort; it felt like her right eye had a mind of its own, and she couldn’t get the two to work in tandem long enough to focus on anything.

The door made a slight scratching and creaking sound as Raven slid it open enough to admit Ray, though Ray could barely see it. Her head sang with grief and pain and things that couldn’t fit—things that made no sense. She heard Raven’s voice as though through water, too distorted to comprehend, and then Ray sank. She didn’t feel the floor rise up to meet her.

(more excerpts and information)

(Chapters 1-3 can be found here; press the j key to jump past this post if you’d prefer, or check here for more details.)

Ray’s foot caught on a tree root and sent her sprawling as she lost the woman’s hand. She collapsed, panting in the dirt, her lungs burning in her chest. They’d been running for ages, it seemed, and her knees were weak and her head was spinning and she couldn’t bring herself to face the fact that this road couldn’t possibly lead to Phoenix.

“We cannot stay,” the woman insisted. Her face was a mask of terror. “There are penalties for being past curfew!”

“Wait, how did your English get better all of a sudden?” Ray asked. The woman stared at her, uncomprehending.

“Tah te lyassapata Yra,” she replied, shaking her head. “Why only English?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but then her frustration seemed to surge, and she kicked the ground. “Raven knows English. She can say. Follow!”

“What penalties?” Ray asked. “What curfew?”

“I do not understand,” the woman said. She threw her hands in the air. “Please! I say please follow!”

Ray suddenly realized what the woman had said, and frowned. “What do you mean, Raven knows English?” Raven wasn’t a common name; maybe home really was ahead! “Who’s Raven?”

“So you forget both mother and daughter,” she said, her tone bristling with annoyance and something else. “There is no time! I am Wylwon; I am mother. Daughter is Raven. Come home!”

“You’re not my mother!” Ray said, thinking of the woman with the sad smile and colorless hair and a face she could never see clearly. “My mother is in Phoenix!”

“Rayai,” Wylwon said, pointing down the path. There were tears of frustration in her eyes. “I must go.”

“I’ll catch up,” Ray lied, scooting back to press herself against a tree trunk. She felt exposed, cold, scared—Wylwon’s face filled with grief.

“Dangerous,” Wylwon begged. “Please, come!”

“I’m not your daughter!” Ray snapped, wincing away from Wylwon’s grasp. “Leave me alone!”

Wylwon sobbed once before she seemed to catch herself. “I am so sorry,” she murmured, then looked up at the sky. Tears pooled in her eyes; moonlight fell in dappled patches on the pale soil. “Yrai, kywonnh hakkyllida tah. Tah te srenaspata. Kywonnh, gottenlida tah ny kyp. Kywonnh, yrai.” Wylwon looked at her hands, which were trembling. “No dangerous,” Wylwon whispered. “Not you.”

Ray shook her head, pushing herself against the tree. “I don’t know you,” Ray said, her voice shaking. “I don’t know what you’re saying! I can’t follow you!”

Wylwon wiped her eyes and nodded, choking back a sudden sob.

“So sorry,” she whispered. She pressed her fingers against her lips. “So sorry. Darkness—dangerous.” Wylwon laughed, tears slipping out of her eyes. “Why only English? Can’t say. Not follow?”

“Not follow,” Ray said firmly. “I don’t know where you’re taking me!”

“Rayai,” Wylwon said, pointing down the path they’d been following. She spread her arms wide, indicating the forest that surrounded them. “Dangerous. Cannot stay. Please, Laenyn.”

“I’ll catch up,” Ray lied again. “I need to breathe. Go on!” Ray waved her hand down the path. “Go!”

“You will follow?” Wylwon asked, taking a step down the path. She looked deeply torn; she bit her lip and seemed unable to break eye contact with Ray. “To Rayai?”

“Yeah,” Ray said, “Follow. Go!”

Wylwon sighed a deep, shaken breath, then swallowed. “At home,” she said softly. “Soon.”

Ray nodded, and Wylwon turned to walk down the path. She dragged her feet and kept glancing over her shoulder, looking back at Ray with tear-filled eyes. Finally, the path turned and carried her out of sight. Sagging with relief, Ray watched the empty path. The air was cold, but humid; Phoenix had been arid, not lush like this. Closing her eyes, Ray sank against the tree.

“What am I doing here?” she asked herself. The forest seemed to creak around her; mist settled on her face, cold as sweat after a nightmare. Shuddering, Ray curled in on herself. “I want to go home. Where am I supposed to go from here? Where the hell am I?” The word felt grown-up on her lips, and she blushed in the darkness. Opening her eyes, Ray let out a long breath and pushed herself to her feet. Her legs felt long and ungainly as she peered into the woods.

The forest seemed cluttered at the edges; shadows darted in and out of sight as the moonlight shifted and the branches swayed in a breeze that was beyond Ray’s reach.

“Look,” Ray said, her mouth dry, “I’m not scared of anything!” Her voice shook just enough to give away her lie. She swallowed again. “I’m not! I’m not afraid of anything in the whole world!” she shouted, and a bird took flight in the tree above her, making Ray shrink back against the tree again. Ray licked her lips. “I’m going to find a way home, okay? I’ll do it all on my own.”

The path went only two ways; toward death at the lake, and toward the terrifying unknown place that Wylwon had tried to drag her to. Taking in a deep breath that smelled something like honeysuckle and something like lemongrass, Ray went down the path that Wylwon had followed.

“I’m not going to get lost,” Ray said aloud. Her footfalls were too heavy, too loud; her heart pounded in her chest. “It’s safe as long as I’m on the path!”

A twig snapped as something darted through the underbrush; Ray caught a glimpse of a tiny, black shape running through the shadows. A wave of nauseating fear swept through her as another, larger animal gave chase. In the underbrush, something squealed, and she could hear lips and fangs smacking. Her feet began to run without her realizing it, and she almost stumbled and fell as she spun around to watch an owl ghost through the canopy above her, letting out a loud hoot that made Ray shriek and duck as she covered her hair.

“I’m not scared!” Ray shouted, trying to anchor herself. Her breaths came in gasps, but she forced herself to slow down and breathe normally. “I’m just looking for my home, okay? So you’d better leave me alone, or you’ll be sorry!”

The path was long and dark, and Ray had nothing to light her path. The animals that leapt deeper into the forest at her approach scared her at first, but as she got her bearings, she began to growl and shout at them. Each cry sent them further into the woods, until, finally, Ray was left in silence, with only her footsteps to remind her that she hadn’t gone deaf, and that she was still moving forward.

How had she gotten here? Ray didn’t want to think about it, but the question lurked at the edges of her consciousness, making her uneasy. There was no explanation for it—unless her pool had a hole that led to that lake, there was no way to make sense of it. Ray shivered, longing for the bright sunlight that had driven her into the water in the first place. Her hair and dress were still dripping, and even the slightest breeze made her shake like the last autumn leaf clinging to a tree.

Just then, a dim, blue glow fell on the ground before her, though the trees cut deep holes in the light. The light swayed, and Ray made out another shadow on the forest floor: a person held out an arm, reaching into the night. Ray froze, afraid to make any sound at all. Had Wylwon come back to help her? Ray didn’t know what Wylwon wanted from her.

But the woman that emerged from around the bend was much older than Wylwon. Her hair was a stark white and cropped close to her face. The woman’s eyes glinted in the blue light, glowing like a cat’s. Ray held her breath, wishing that she could become invisible.

The woman looked at her with a crooked, half-smile, and Ray let out her breath.

“Hello there, Ray,” the woman said. Her voice was raspy; Ray guessed that she was a heavy smoker. “I understand that you got lost in the woods.”

“How do you know who I am?” Ray asked, willing her voice not to tremble. “Who told you where I was?”

“Your mother is worried about you,” the woman laughed; it sounded like the barking of a dog.

“You know where my mother is?” Ray demanded, hope surging in her chest. The woman held out her hand.

“I even know where Phoenix is,” she said. “Come over to my house. I think that we need to talk.”

“Who are you?” Ray asked, though she stepped forward and reached, hesitantly, for the woman’s hand. “What’s going on?”

“All in good time, my dear,” she said, smiling again. Ray realized that the woman stood a good foot shorter than she did. “My name is Jauge. Jauge Haunobolon Kahn. Now, come this way.”

Ray’s hand dropped to her side, but she followed Jauge through the night.

“How do you know English?” Ray asked. “Wylwon didn’t know English. Where am I?”

Jauge said nothing, but held up the pale, blue lantern and padded, silent as a cat, down the path. Ray felt as though she knew Jauge from somewhere—from something like a dream. A chill crawled down her spine, but she suppressed the shudder. The path opened to their right, and Ray saw a house lit with a dozen little lanterns.

“Welcome,” Jauge said, hopping nimbly up the steps. Ray’s legs wobbled beneath her, but she followed Jauge through the door and into the house. There was a couch, a love seat, and a chair, all made of wood that had been painted white. There were padded cushions on them. The wall to her left and the wall ahead of her were filled with books from floor to ceiling, though they weren’t bound. The wall to her right was covered with large strips of paper that had complicated diagrams drawn in painstaking detail.

Jauge coughed, and Ray looked down at her. Jauge’s eyes were golden, with cat’s pupils.

“Contacts?” Ray asked. Jauge laughed, her pupils shrinking as they adjusted to the bright, clear light in the room.

“Have a seat,” Jauge said, motioning to the chair. Ray went toward it, then, feeling unnerved, sat down on the couch beside it. Jauge sat on the loveseat across from her, resting her chin on her hands as she examined Ray.

“I really should get going soon,” Ray said, unable to look away from Jauge’s gaze. “You said that Mom was worried about me.”

“Yes, your mother is quite concerned,” Jauge said, frowning a little. She flung a piece of charcoal at Ray. “Catch.”

Ray caught it, even though she nearly missed. It left black smudges on her hands.

“Motor reflexes seem to be functional,” Jauge muttered. Ray set the charcoal down on the table, watching as her fingers left smudges that were a deep green rather than black. “Look up,” Jauge said sharply. Ray obeyed, trying to dust her hands off. Jauge held up a string with a stone tied at the end. “Watch this, but don’t turn your head.”

“What are you doing?” Ray demanded, getting to her feet. Jauge set down the string and grinned.

“You hit your head rather badly, I’m afraid,” she said. Ray was good at spotting a liar—something about the way Jauge’s eyes dilated, the way she looked away, told her that Jauge wasn’t being honest with her. “When you dove into the water, I think that you struck your head on a rock. Didn’t you come to with a headache?”

“Yes,” Ray said, feeling her head for lumps until Jauge looked at her again. Her gaze seemed to cut through Ray; she dropped her hand at once. “But what’s it to you? Who are you?”

“Call me a friend,” Jauge said. “I see that you’ve forgotten some things.”

“How did I get here?” Ray demanded. “Don’t tell me that I’ve got amnesia—I don’t! I can remember everything just fine!”

“Fine then,” Jauge said, standing with a shrug. “If you remember everything, then there’s no need for me to explain anything. You ought to run on home, then. Good night, Ray.”

“Wait!” Ray said, holding her hand out and clenching it into a fist as Jauge walked away from her. “Wait, wait. Okay, so I don’t remember how I got here. I don’t remember how to get home.”

“You’re much calmer than I anticipated,” Jauge sighed, glancing at Ray sidelong. “I’d thought… But never mind what I thought. Take the path to Rayai if you want to find your home; Raven has all the answers.”

“Raven?” Ray repeated. “The brat? What’s she doing here?”

“She’s awfully close-lipped on the matter,” Jauge said, moving to straighten the books on the shelf. “You left a water mark on my couch, Ray.”

Ray turned and looked; she’d left an entire puddle. By the time she looked up again, Jauge was waving her hand, dismissing Ray’s apology before she’d even opened her mouth.

“It’s no matter,” Jauge said. “It’s time that I sew a new one, in any case. Raven lives with Wylwon. It’s too much trouble to explain it all to you—”

“But you said that we had to talk!” Ray said. Jauge’s smile made anger flare in her chest.

“That’s more like it,” she murmured. Clearing her throat, she continued in a louder tone. “And we really did need to talk. I needed to be sure you were…in control of yourself. Now that I see that you’re all right, I have no further need to inquire of you. You may go.”

“Go?” Ray repeated. She glanced at the door, at the dark night that waited beyond the single pane of wood. “But I’m ten, and it’s late, and I don’t know the way!”

“No matter,” Jauge said, turning away again. “I have other tasks at hand. I’m finished with you; there’s no further need to concern myself. Follow the path to the right, and you’ll be just fine.”

“This doesn’t make any sense!” Ray shouted. Jauge paused mid-gesture, reaching for a book on the highest shelf. “Who are you? Who’s Wylwon? What’s Raven doing here?” Ray punched the bookshelf as she came around Jauge’s side to stare down at her. Jauge’s expression was serene and pleased as Ray confronted her; Ray gritted her teeth. “You have to answer my questions! I know that you’re hiding something from me!”

“I owe you nothing, Ray,” Jauge said, Ray’s name rolling on Jauge’s tongue. Ray drew back a step. “I owe you absolutely nothing. I owe Wylwon nothing, as well. The contract has been broken; you weren’t to be taken to the lake, and here you are, dripping puddles on my hardwood floors and couch.” Jauge grinned, and Ray wanted to throttle her. The urge scared her, and she looked away to calm herself down.

“Stop trying to make me mad,” Ray muttered. Jauge’s grin vanished.

“That’s all you’re meant to be,” Jauge sighed. Ray fought back the fury that rose in her chest at Jauge’s condescending tone. “Now, take the path to the right.” A cruel glint appeared in her eyes before she could turn and hide it. “Make a lot of sound as you go; it’ll keep the monsters at bay.”

“There’s no such thing,” Ray snapped, then bit her tongue. “Give me a flashlight or something, at least.”

“There’s no such thing,” Jauge repeated, then chuckled. “I did promise Wylwon a lantern. Perhaps I owe her that much.” She laughed again, throwing her head back, and Ray stumbled backwards, nearly upending a side table. Tears appeared in the wrinkles around Jauge’s eyes. “Oh, that’s rich.” She managed to bring herself under control as Ray got to the other side of the couch. Jauge fixed Ray with her gaze, and Ray froze. “No, Ray. You’ll go by yourself. There are monsters on the path, ones that might devour you, and I couldn’t be more pleased. If you make it back to Rayai, ask Raven what you’re doing here, if you dare. I think it would be better to learn about where you are, personally. Memories never hold anything but grief.”

Ray looked at the ground, unable to look Jauge in the eye anymore. Guilt seemed to gnaw at her chest for the briefest instant—it was immediately replaced with bewilderment.

“Whatever,” Ray said. She glared at the ground and swallowed, steeling herself. “I’ll just go, then. You’re a crazy old woman with no heart.”

“None,” Jauge whispered. Ray walked to the doorway, breathing out slowly to ease the knot of heated tension in her stomach. Jauge raised her voice as Ray pulled open the door. “I’ll be checking up on you.”

(more excerpts and information)

(Chapters 1 and 2 can be found here; press the j key to jump past this post if you’d prefer, or check here for more details.)

Ray burst out of the water, gasping for air—it was frigid, and burned in her lungs. Ray’s eyes flew open, and she choked as bitter water got in her mouth. A woman on the shore spun to look at her, but Ray ignored her. The pool was gone; she felt for an end to the water, but there was nothing at all for her to stand on. As the wind picked up, Ray shuddered and ducked under the water that had felt so cold only moments ago, taking refuge in its warmth.

“Laenyn!” the woman shouted. “Ettyl te chy sen za kival? Arrmetlida! Ypuroesh!”

Ray shook her head, staring around at the black lake that stretched out around her. Everything felt sharp and too clear. The sky was clouded over, but green peeked out between the clouds. Ray forgot to breathe, forgot to paddle, and a little swell splashed into her mouth, making her gasp and breaking the spell. The woman was still shouting—in the moments before Ray’s attention snapped back to her, it sounded like she was being scolded for going into the cold, for not asking permission, for—Ray looked at the woman and found that the words made no sense.

“Carremaen!” the woman was shouting, her hair coming loose from her ponytail. “Ettyl te chy sen za kival? Asah, asah, arrmetlida!”

Ray swam toward her, though her hands were shaking and her hair was cold where it was plastered to her face. There was no one around; her family was gone, her anger fizzling as icy fear drenched her. The trees on the shore were white with bronze-colored leaves, and the air smelled of flowers. These little details overwhelmed her; the cracks that ran like spiderwebs over the bark, the rustle of a small animal in the thick brush, the metallic taste of the water, the soft, tickling brush of seaweed against her foot, the scent of lilacs and lavender and things she’d never thought of before. There were no sounds like cars honking and Meg’s friends murmuring; there was no sun with its enormous, oppressive heat, and the world felt much, much wider.

Pulling herself out of the water with the exceptionally soft, red grass that should have torn under her grip and didn’t, Ray curled up on the shore and closed her eyes. There was no way to close her ears, though, or her nose. Anything that had been familiar to her was absent here. Her heart was splitting in her chest with someone else’s pain until her own panic surged over it, drowning out the mournful cry with a scream of terror.

“Laenyn!” the woman said, shaking Ray by the shoulder. The touch was too solid, too real; Ray could feel the cracks in her hands, the pressure and discomfort of a hand squeezing her. “Ettel te chy tynithina?” The woman’s voice was breaking. “Tyff toqu tah terrempata?” Ray looked up at the woman’s horrified tone.

“What’s wrong?” Ray heard herself ask. She watched the woman’s expression shift until she seemed to be fighting back tears. Ray was at a loss—she couldn’t think of what to say, or how to get the woman to understand her. Nothing was right in the world. Nothing at all. “I—maybe I can help?” Ray asked, her voice sounding like someone else’s, adding to the feeling of vertigo that seemed ready to knock her into the sky.

“No, no,” the woman said. Tears were in her eyes, and Ray noticed that they were a dull brown. Even though the woman was dry, and Ray was soaking wet, the woman dragged her into a hug, burying her face in Ray’s shoulder. “No, no, it was not to work! It was not to work!”

Ray shoved her away and scrambled backward, trying to get to her feet. Her limbs were all wrong: they were gangly and wild, and she fell to the ground, getting her long, green dress tangled around her ankles. The grass was slick with translucent, turquoise-colored water, lending a purple sheen to them. Details seemed to overpower her, keeping her from seeing the whole picture, but suddenly it came together, breaking through the sickening nausea of displacement.

“Where am I?” Ray shouted, trying not to realize that there was no way for her pool to link to this lake, no way for summer to become autumn in a moment’s time underwater. “Who are you?”

The sky was turning blue overhead, but it was the wrong blue. It was off;it wasalien and unsettling. It was a point between dark green and deep, royal purple, a color she’d never known before, a color she couldn’t recognize. She heard the woman curse and mutter about fog, but she couldn’t repeat the words that she’d used.

“We have to go,” the woman said, looking into Ray’s eyes. Tears cut lines through the dust on her cheeks, but she smudged them away.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Ray said, her voice too deep and developed. It made her sound twice her age. She felt like crying, herself. “What’s going on? I want to go home!”

“Home?” the woman repeated. Ray nodded furiously. “I can take you home.”

Ray looked around. The lake was at least a mile wide, and the trees seemed towering at twenty feet. Phoenix didn’t have trees, not ones that belonged there. Swallowing, Ray shook her head.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered. “This isn’t real. None of this is real.”

“Please, Laenyn!” the woman said, lapsing back into the other language as Ray looked at her. “Tohn toqu iya kevven. Tohn toqu fah. Za aes-hjor te fen, sy yo te inech carremaen!”

“I can’t understand you!” Ray said sharply. “Where’s home? I want to go home.”

“I can take you home,” the woman said, running a hand over her hair to smooth back her ponytail. “I can take you home. Follow.”

The woman gestured for Ray to follow, but Ray once Ray had struggled to her feet, she hesitated. There was no one around, but was that a good reason to go with a stranger? It was dizzying to look down at the woman and the ground; she was too tall, too tall!

“Please!” the woman begged, looking over at the lake. Ray followed her gaze and realized that a thick, blue smog was beginning to froth at the surface, rising as the sky got darker. It seemed to glow in the twilit air, and it grew higher and thicker with every moment. The woman’s eyes were wild, and she grabbed Ray’s hand. “Please follow!” she said. Ray stared back at the smog, which was spreading out over the lake’s surface, moving slowly but inexorably outward, getting ever thicker as it traveled.

“What is that?” Ray felt herself ask. There was a ringing in her ears, an acrid scent on the breeze.

“Dangerous!” the woman said. Her voice was high with fright. “No touch! No breathe! Follow!”

Ray saw a large water skimmer drift by on the lake; as the fog enveloped it, it spasmed, and white film coated its eyes as black veins sprung up along its skin, which cracked. It sank.

“Yeah,” Ray said, backing up. The sound of a frog’s panicked croaking died. “Yeah, I’ll follow you. Let’s go! Let’s go!”

They ran toward a hole in the trees, and Ray’s feet found the path before she could see it; everything before her was shadowed by the canopy above and her own shadow as she was lit from behind by the fog, which lent a slight, sickly glow to the world. Ray saw ghastly faces in the trees’ webbed bark, and she screamed as she and the woman ran from the lake and into a forest where there were far too many places for a boogeyman to leap out and grab her.

(more excerpts and information)

I’ve been writing Untold Memories for about a decade, and, about five years ago, I self-published a previous draft of the first book. In the intervening years, I have completely rewritten and thoroughly improved the book, but I still have a handful of copies left over from those days.

These books are out of print, and I will not be selling them ever again. For $60, you can get your own paperback copy—signed, with a personal note (either written in the book itself or on a separate sheet), and with optional notes, commentary, and/or doodles in many of the margins! This is something I have never offered before, and I will never offer it again. 

There are only 25 of these books available; if you want one, you’ll have to act now!

If you have any questions or want to know further details, please feel free to contact me! (My ask is open to anons.)

(Chapter 1 can be found here; press the j key to jump past this post if you’d prefer, or check here for more details.)

Ray’s eyes snapped open. The woman’s sharp grin burned in her mind’s eye for a moment before fading. Throwing off her blanket, Ray leapt out of bed. Her bedroom was the same as ever: sun-bleached, neat, and impersonal. Something was off—but as she turned to hunt down exactlywhat was wrong, it seemed to skirt the edge of her vision. Everything was in order: her computer on a desk at the foot of her bed, her dressers against the wall, the dusty mirrors on her closet door, showing her as a somewhat scrawny 10-year-old with brown hair and green eyes, wearing pajamas that were much too big for her.

What was out of place? She shook her head.The door to her right was full of sunshine, while the door to her left led to the rest of the house. Ray swallowed, but she was parched. She padded down the hall, hardly aware of the floor beneath her feet.

Her mother was in the kitchen. Ray avoided her gaze, but there were pancakes on the table. The thought of choking food down her dry throat made her want to gag.

“Eat up, honey,” Ray’s mom said, with an empty cheer in her voice. Ray didn’t bother to ask; she knew what was wrong. There was water in the fridge, beyond her mother—Ray licked her cracked lips and turned away. Sitting down at the table, Ray forced down her pancakes in silence and let her mother go back to cooking, which was what occupied her time when she wanted a distraction. When Ray’s father got upset, he would leave the house. He wasn’t around much these days.

“Mom?” Ray said, when she’d finished eating. Her mother turned and looked in her direction, but didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Did you want to go swimming, sweetie?” her mother asked. Ray couldn’t remember what she’d wanted, or whether she’d wanted anything at all. She nodded. “Go ask Meg. Raven is in the pool right now. Meg should be watching her.”

It hurt Ray to hear her mother’s voice; it was lifeless. Ray stood, opening her mouth to speak, but her mother turned back to the sink, turning a clean dish over and over in her hands. When Ray looked back at her, all she could see was her hair, colorless and faded. It might have once been brown or blonde, but Ray couldn’t recall. Swallowing her thought, Ray turned and left.

It seemed much later in the day than Ray had first thought. The sun was high in the sky; heat steamed off the ground and made the air hazy. Phoenix burned in the summer. The grass was a washed out yellow, dried and dead—onlythe poolshone blue and colorful beneath the oppressive sun, smooth as a looking glass.

Meg stood by the pool. She had friends over; Ray never learned the names of Meg’s friends, no matter how often they came over. The haze made them blur together. Only Meg was clearly defined. Ray could hear the murmur of their voices, and the dim impression of laughter, but she ignored them for the moment. She set her eyes on Raven instead. Raven paddled in the shallow end, though Ray knew Raven was a good swimmer for a five-year-old. Seeing her made Ray burn on the inside—it was a fury that was outside her, beyond her. The brat swam on, oblivious. Her face was clearly visible through the heat haze, youthful and freckled. Her red curls were brown when wet, and glistened in the blistering sunlight.

Ray’s tongue was thick in her mouth, and her skin was so dry it seemed to be cracking and peeling. Only Meg could let her into the pool. She walked toward Meg, who was looking out at Raven. The beautifully pristine, blue sky shone above Meg’s head. Ray’s eyes were cloudy with sleepiness again; they unfocused, and she was unable to examine Meg clearly.

“I want to swim, Meg,” Ray said, her voice dry, her throat parched. Meg continued talking, and Ray focused on her words.

“I know that it wasn’t my fault, but I can’t help feeling as though, you know, it was. Like I should have done something. Or known, at least.”

The sound of a passing car drowned out her friend’s voice as she replied, and Meg sighed.

“But she won’t let go—I don’t know what to do. I thought she was safe from her, but even now, after all these years… It’s hard to be your sister’s keeper.”

Ray stiffened. Frustration tore at her, smoldering in her chest—the rage and loathing that had surrounded her when she first saw Raven came back to her, overwhelming her. She just wanted to swim. Why was everything always about that brat?

One of Meg’s friends seemed to have been speaking, though her words might as well have been the sighing of the wind. As Meg spoke, Ray felt dizzy and desperate for water.

“It’s not right,” Meg said, “Ray is still— You don’t understand.”

“Understand what, Meg?” Ray asked, fighting to speak around her swollen tongue. Meg spun and gasped.

“Ray!” Meg said, “How long have you been standing there?”

Ray ignored her. The sun beat down on her; it was imperative that she dive into the pool. Her head rang with a headache so sharp and hot that she thought, for a moment, that she’d have to cut a hole in her skull and let waterrush into ease the burn.

“Let me swim, Meg.”

“Raven’s swimming right now,” Meg replied, a hint of fear in her eyes. The undertone that lurked beneath her words was bright and sore in Ray’s mind.

“Well, I want to swim, too!” Ray said, voice sharp and loud. Meg took a step back, and her friends parted behind her like water.

“I can’t let you—” Meg began, then swallowed, “I can’t let you go in unsupervised.”

“Fine,” Ray said, “After you, then.”

Meg looked startled, then glanced around at her friends. They seemed to shrug, and Ray realized that Meg was already in her swimsuit. Though she couldn’t remember when she’d put it on, Ray looked down and saw herself in a swimsuit of her own. She looked up and found herself by the diving board.

With nothing more than a sideways glance at Ray, Meg climbed onto the diving board. She leapt into the pool, and the splash stung Ray’s eyes. She rubbed them, feeling almost as though she was stirring in her sleep. By the time they were clear again, Meg was out of the pool, looking mournfully at Raven and dangling her feet in the water.

“A real nine point five, honey!” their mother called from the doorway. Ray glanced at her, but the glare on the door was too bright; she couldn’t see her. Instead, Ray turned her attention to her feet.

Ray stepped up to the diving board, bouncing with each step. The water sparkled in the sunshine. She took a deep breath, did a simple dive, and slipped through the water, eyes shut tight against the chlorine. Pausing under water for a moment to enjoy how cold the water was, she kicked off and soared upward towards the world above. 

(more excerpts and information)

(One chapter will be posted each day for the next week; press j to jump past this post.)

Laenyn’s feet felt like stones; they dragged beneath her, unwilling to carry her where she intended to go. She kept her head high and her stride strong, even though her heart was pounding in her chest, begging her to live, to go back to her daughter, to go back to the misery that was life as a Keshaan.

Wylwon opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she looked behind them, making sure there was no one behind them to see them walk into the Engra forest. It was so early in the morning that there was barely a hint of golden light on the horizon, but Laenyn felt the White eyes on her as she went to visit the only woman to ever live outside the bounds of the village.

The path was well kept, as it led to the lake as well as to Jauge’s house. Jauge didn’t fit; the Council had thought it safest to grant her request to live with her daughter, alone in the woods.

Laenyn’s heart ached.

“Mother?” Laenyn asked, her voice hoarse. Wylwon looked up, her hair slipping free of its ponytail. Her hair looked gray with age in the darkness. Laenyn swallowed and looked away. “The waxed cloth will make a good water skin.”

“The light that she’s promised me would be more helpful right now,” Wylwon said, a trace of a sigh in her voice. Laenyn’s feet refused to move faster, despite the pain and grief. Wylwon fell silent, and the silence lapsed—the sky was patterned with a bronze canopy and a deep, purple sky, with only the barest touch of daylight beyond it all. Laenyn watched that sky and wished that she’d held her daughter more tightly before she’d left.

Eventually, the trees thinned, and they turned to the left to enter Jauge’s clearing. Jauge’s house was entirely unlike the staunch, uniformly cut buildings of Rayai. The door swung in and out rather than sliding quietly and elegantly to the side, smoke curled upward from a square stack that rose from the roof, and there was light reflecting on the windows as the moons moved overhead.

Laenyn looked up at the moons, staring longest at the gray moon. Her lips moved silently as she prayed: Please, give my daughter a better mother. And, I beg you, let me sleep.

Breathing out slowly to disguise her sigh, Laenyn left her mother at the porch and rapped once at the post beside the doorway.

“Come in.” Jauge’s voice was unforgettable—a caustic growl that sneered no matter what expression she wore. Laenyn closed her eyes, steeled herself, and walked through the door. Jauge was ready, a crooked half-smile on her face, the chair prepared. “You’re a little early,” she remarked. Laenyn nodded, her voice failing her. The feet that had brought her this far seemed to abandon her, and she swayed suddenly. Jauge caught her by the shoulder, the slitted pupils of her White eyes flashing gold in the firelight.

“Forgive me,” Laenyn said, then wished she could take back the words. Pain flashed across Jauge’s face before she could put up the smile again. The silence burned in the air; too many words were left unsaid, too many accusations were stifled. Laenyn could barely breathe. Jauge’s gaze stung. Her eyes were too much like—Laenyn swallowed, willing her body to remember her training, fighting to do as she had always done and follow orders.

Sick to her stomach, Laenyn allowed herself to be led to the chair, let the devices be strapped to her hair, let Jauge undo the braid that was the symbol of everything she had tried to achieve.

“Are you certain that you will go through with it?” Jauge murmured, her white hair clinging to her sweaty forehead. The room was cold, and the metal on Laenyn’s forehead bit into her skin.

“Yes,” Laenyn replied, though her body screamed No! Her spirit flagged and quailed beneath the towering grief. Jauge chuckled, her throat dry and raspy.

“There will be no coming back, you know,” Jauge pressed.

“I know,” Laenyn whispered. The straps were cold and her arms were losing circulation; it felt like relief.

“Good girl, good,” Jauge said. She had a lopsided slash of a smile, and her eyes were too bright and feverish. Laenyn’s body knew fear; Laenyn’s heart sang for release. “Now, dear, just close your eyes and relax. It will all be over soon.”

(more excerpts and information)

A scientist mad with grief; a mother trying to escape guilt; a little girl’s worst nightmare; a mistake with unforeseen consequences.

What if your life—your world—your memories—were a lie?

More information, including a 44-page sample of the first book, is available here!

***

Now that we’re halfway through the month, I wanted to ask interested parties what else they might want from this KickStarter.

Are there any pledge rewards you’d like to see? Are there any changes you’d like to see in the way I spend the KickStarter funds? Do you have any questions about the books or the KickStarter campaign?

If you have any ideas you’d like to contribute, just let me know! (Anon is just fine, too; my ask is open.)