Happy Book Birthday to my writing friend, Beth Cato
In an alternate 1906, the
United States and Japan have forged a powerful confederation—the Unified
Pacific—in an attempt to dominate the world. Their first target is a vulnerable
China. In San Francisco, headstrong Ingrid Carmichael is assisting a group of
powerful geomancer wardens who have no idea of the depth of her power—or that
she is the only woman to possess such skills.
When assassins kill the
wardens, Ingrid and her mentor are protected by her incredible magic. But the
pair is far from safe. Without its full force of guardian geomancers, the city
is on the brink of a cataclysmic earthquake that will expose Earth’s powers to
masterminds determined to control the energy for their own dark ends. The danger
escalates when Chinese refugees, preparing to fight the encroaching American
and Japanese, fracture the uneasy alliance between the Pacific allies,
transforming the city into a veritable powder keg. And the slightest tremor
will set it off. . . .
Forced on the run, Ingrid
makes some shocking discoveries about herself. Her powerful magic has grown
even more fearsome . . . and she may be the fulcrum on which the balance of
world power rests.
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This excerpt from chapter 1
offers an introduction to geomancy.
Whimpers and moans welcomed Ingrid
to the junior classroom. Nearest to the door, a dozen boys half sprawled over
their desks. A blue mist overlay their skin, and beneath that mist were the sure
signs of power sickness—skin flushed by high fever, thick sweat, dull eyes. The
rest of the class stared, their expressions ranging from curiosity to horror.
Some of them still showed signs of very recent recovery in their bloodshot
eyes. None of these boys was older than ten; the youngest was a pudgy-faced eight.
"There you are!" The
teacher scowled, as if it were Ingrid’s
fault he’d been so inept with
his accounting. Biting her lip, she held out the bag. He snatched it from her
fingertips.
The chalkboard laid out the
terminology of the lesson, one
Ingrid had seen taught dozens
of times: hyperthermia, hypothermia, and the quick timeline to a geomancer’s
death. These young boys experienced the hard lesson of hyperthermia. The last
earthquake noticeable by the wardens had taken place
three days before. These students
had been directly exposed to the current and hadn’t been allowed access to any
kermanite. As a result, they spent the past few days bed-bound in misery as
though gripped by influenza.
Thank God none of them were as
sensitive as Ingrid. Another direct tremor would cause their temperatures to spike
even more, and could even lead to death.
The teacher adept pressed a
piece of kermanite to a boy’s skin. He gasped at the contact. Blue mist eddied
over his body, the color evaporating as it was pulled inside the rock.
If she could see the kermanite
in the adept’s hand, the clear crystal would be filling with a permanent smoky
swirl. It took a trained mechanic to rig an electrical current to tap the
trapped magic as a battery. When the energy within was exhausted, a crystal
turned dull and dark. Once that happened, kermanite became a useless rock.
The young boy sat up
straighter. "Thank you, sir," he whispered,
voice still ragged. It would
take him hours to fully recover.
Ingrid looked away, that
familiar anger heavy in her chest.
Wardens and boys in training
carried kermanite openly from
watch fobs and cuff links, or
most any other accessory where
stones could be easily
switched out once they were full.
She had to be far more subtle.
Her kermanite chunks clinked together in her dress pocket. She had to take care
not to touch them today, or the energy she held would be siphoned away.
Ingrid loved this slight flush
of power, because that’s what it was — power. It sizzled just beneath her skin,
intoxicated her
with how it prickled at her
nerves. Certainly, if she absorbed
any more energy, she’d use the
kermanite. She didn’t want to feel sick, though she could hold much more power
than these boys, or even the wardens. Mr. Sakaguchi said she took after
Papa — that she stored power
like a bank vault, while most
everyone else had the capacity
of a private safe.
When it came to her natural
skill, Ingrid often regarded herself as a rare fantastic or yokai — not like
garden ornamentals like the kappas or naiads sold to the stuffed shirts on
Market Street — but like the geomantic Hidden Ones Mr. Sakaguchi so loved to
research. She was a creature relegated to idle fancy and obscure mythology, and
aggravating shoes.
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Beth Cato is the author of the
Clockwork Dagger series from Harper Voyager, which includes her
Nebula-nominated novella WINGS OF SORROW AND BONE. Her newest novel is BREATH
OF EARTH. She’s a Hanford, California native transplanted to the Arizona
desert, where she lives with her husband, son, and requisite cat. Follow her at
BethCato.com and on Twitter at @BethCato.
