A Guide to Magical Cant
a homoerotic fantasy by
SHAYNE CARMICHAEL
Published by Phaze Books
Also by Shayne Carmichael
Tombstone Ranch
Snap Decision
The Edge of Nothingness
The Guardian
Unjustly Accused
A Magical Story
With Mychael Black
The Cowboy and the Thief
The Duke’s Husband
Dark Needs
Through the Dark
When I Dream of You
Dreams of Death
And many more…
This is an explicit and erotic novel
intended for the enjoyment
of adult readers. Please keep
out of the hands of children.
www.Phaze.com
A
Guide to Magical Cant
Copyright © 2010 by Shayne Carmichael
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Edited by Kathryn Lively
Cover Art © 2010 by Niki Browning
First Edition October 2010
ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-555-8
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Published by:
Phaze Books
An imprint of Mundania Press LLC
6470A Glenway Ave., #109
Cincinnati, OH 45211
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Mundania Press LLC, 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109, Cincinnati, Ohio 45211, books@mundania.com.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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Chapter One
“You’ve been kicked out of the university?” Kella asked in an incredulous tone.
“No.” Maer replied, continuing to pack his clothes. While his father refused to pay Maer’s school case and ordered Maer home, it wasn’t the same as being banned. “Drusi wants me home.”
“Oh.” Kella lost interest with the mundane explanation. “Too bad you’ll miss the Mid-Moon drills.”
Maer had other more important matters occupying his thoughts. As Kella chattered on, Maer folded his clothes and tried to figure out what Drusi was up to. It wasn’t like his father wanted Maer’s company, because a growing son reminded Drusi too much of the man’s aging.
When Kella fell silent, Maer looked up and saw Tri Ellen standing in the doorway. Kella jumped from the bed to bow to the teacher as Maer did the same.
“I would like to talk to Maer privately.”
“I was just leaving, Tri Ellen.” Kella side-stepped the teacher and ran out the door.
“I heard you won’t be attending the next case, Maer.” She shut the door, then approached Maer.
“My father wants me home.”
“So I’ve heard.” Her dry retort spoke volumes.
There wasn’t anything Maer could say to the comment, and he resumed packing. “Maybe I’ll be able to come back someday.”
“That’s why I’m here. I want you to have these.” Three books materialized in the teacher’s hand.
Maer stared at them in surprise, realizing Tri Ellen couldn’t have permission to give them to him.
“They will help you keep up until you can return to the university, Maer. I’d hate to see you suffer through no fault of your own.” The air of subterfuge fit ill on the older woman, but Maer was grateful for the unexpected aid.
“I don’t know what to say.” He took the books and buried them in his pack.
“I’m doing this because you have considerable skill. You must return for additional training.” An unusual warmth softened the stern features. A second later Tri Ellen spun around and stalked out.
Maer hadn’t thought about his chances of returning. The money his deceased mother had paid into his account had been used up, and his father refused to pay for Maer’s case.
Frustrated and unhappy, Maer finished packing. Although he knew his father’s coach waited for him, before he left he was determined to stop at the school store. There was still a small amount in his account he could use for supplies. The gods only knew when he would get another chance.
He glanced around the room, biting at his lip. The exclusive halls of Misteria were empty. The rest of his schoolmates were still in their classes, so he didn’t have to deal with their questions. After shouldering his pack, he went out into the corridor. It took a great deal of effort for Maer to act calm and composed.
Other students, in between classes, were heading to the Great Hall for the mid-meal. Maer waved to a couple of his friends before entering the supply center. Tears weren’t far from the surface, and Maer blinked them back as he selected what he might need and could afford.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Tri Hamel’s class.” The jovial voice of his friend, Travis, interrupted Maer’s concentration.
“Drusi sent for me, Travis. I have to go home.” He answered in a low voice.
“Why would he do that?” He looked flabbergasted, mouth agape like a fish.
Maer winced at the brutal question. Travis had a reputation for being blunt and living with his foot in his mouth. Though older than Maer, they had always gotten along well.
“I have to leave now.” Before he could protest, Maer found himself enveloped in a bear hug.
“You better send messages, Maer, or I’ll hunt you down.”
When Travis released him, he murmured, “I will. I promise.” He gathered his supplies and stuffed them in his pack.
Travis stood, watching him without a word. He gave his friend a small wave before he walked out to the main corridor and to the outside drive where the coach waited. A servant helped him into the carriage, and the horses trotted forward with the coachman’s whistle.
Once outside the main grounds of the school, the neighborhood became blocks of two and three level gray stone tenements crowding the street. The walks were filled with people disrupting the traffic of coaches as they crossed the street with little heed for their own safety.
Part of Maer resented being pulled out of school; another side of him clung to a more optimist hope that his father had good reason to take him out. Drusi might very well lack the funds to pay for Maer’s account, though as far as Maer knew there had been no reversal in his family’s fortunes. Maer couldn’t imagine Drusi’s reasoning.
The street began to smooth, jolting the carriage far less as they drove past the well-to-do homes. A number of Maer’s friends were from the Diast district. He’d visited several homes during his vacations. Drusi hadn’t known, and Maer knew the man would never approve of the friendships.