Welcome to 2004!


From my latest book release:

In 2039 Los Angeles, half ruined by devastating quakes, is in the hands of three policing forces -- the National Feds, the State Militia and the city's own Local force, all of them squabbling over jurisdiction. Religious intolerance grows under the watchful eye of the CCP, and survival is a precarious game of chance and cunning.

And in this maelstrom of disaster, two Local detectives, working on their first case together, try to find a drug dealer with a secret he's willing to sell -- if he lives long enough.

Unfortunately, Elias Singer is about to learn that his new partner has a dangerous secret all his own...

Singer and St. Jude: The Lost Cause, now available at Double Dragon Publishing and Ficitonwise.com. Check out my website for more information! (http://lazette.net)


It's been a while since I sent out the last newsletter. I have every intention of doing better at this in 2004. Let's see if I can manage it. It looks as though I am in for a very busy year!

2004 is starting off well with a nice little piece up at A Thousand Words -- a lovely site that invites people to submit both pictures and essays from 300-1000 words. The piece that I sent them has been on my site for a while, but I thought it would be fun to share it with a larger audience. Look for 'Life in Siouxland' here: http://www.1000words.net/

2003 brought more ups and downs than I like to deal with in a single year. But I survived and still managed to write another million new words to go with the million words from 2002. This year I intend to write only about half that much and to work more extensively on rewrites and edits. Some of those rewrite/edits will be on novels in The Dark Staff series. Book four of this series (the half way point) has just been released from Double Dragon Press. (Again, see my website for more information.)

One of the many changes this year is that I am now in charge of Forward Motion, a writer's community with over 3000 registered members and growing by more nearly every day. The site has a number of boards, chat rooms, classes, and events -- enough to keep me on my toes every day. The site's ezine, Vision, is now starting it's fourth year with a slight change as well -- we are now paying half a cent per word for articles.

Oh, and did I mention that I am the science fiction and fantasy acquisition's editor for Double Dragon Press now? That has proven to be a very interesting job. I am, I admit, amazed and appalled at how difficult it appears to be for some writers just to read and follow submission guidelines. For all the writers out there -- take the time to do your submissions right. One of the first things we reject on at DDP is a submission that isn't sent according to our guidelines. I usually give the person a second chance, but you would do far better to follow the guidelines first and not start off looking less than professional.

That's all the lecturing I'm going to do this time.

Starting with this newsletter I'm going to offer either a short story or a chapter from a longer piece. Many of the short stories have been published, but since the sites have disappeared I thought I would offer them again. I hope that you enjoy them!

This story originally published in Jackhammer ezine, which unfortunately is no longer in publication.

Twilight

By

Lazette Gifford

©2000, Lazette Gifford



I came down the winding trails from the high mountains and into the hills, following pathways of deer, sheep, goat and finally man. I wasn't certain why I came -- except that I missed the bright village festivals and pretty shrines. I yearned to hear music and watch dancers and lovers. I wanted the laughter of small children and the whispered hopes of old people.

I walked down and down until I reached the Attican shore and there I whispered to Poseidon, reminding him of better days. I loved the feel of the bright sun on my face and hot sand beneath my bare feet. I missed the ocean.

They said at home there had been war and plague and such suffering that it made the gods weep. I didn't believe that would change the people I had known. I came to see for myself.

I was near the Piraeus when I saw an old, bald man and a younger one who walked painfully with the aid of a crude cane. The older one looked distrustful when I neared and I held out my hands in a gesture of peace.

"Forgive my intrusion. I was going to the city and liked to walk along the shore."

"Going to the city? That's no place for a young woman to travel by herself, especially not since the war," the older man said.

"I had heard such tales," I said. "I'm sorry to learn they're true."

"You're not from around here," the younger man said. He smiled, a lessening of the pain that showed in his eyes. "You can travel with us. I'm Ercole and this is my grandfather, Glaucus."

"I would be happy to travel with you, if your grandfather has no objection."

"No, none," he said. There was no less fierceness in his eyes, but I saw that was an older anger and not directed at me.

"Glacus is a Minoan name," I said as we walked, slowed by Erocle's pace. "Is that where you're from?"

"My father came from the island," Glacus said. "We had land there."

"And here?"

"I fought for the Athenians and so did Ercole. They say the city's too poor to pay the mercenaries."

"They've broken their oath to you?"

"Broken oaths, yes." The hardness of his face changed, as though he backed away from a painful wound in his soul. "Where are you from? Crete?"

"I came from there a long time ago," I said and smiled. "I was captured and brought to the mainland. It wasn't bad until recently."

"The war changed too much," Ercole said, with pain behind the words. "It'll never be the same."

We walked in silence again.

"You're lucky you ran into us," Glaucos said. "Have you no family?"

"Oh yes. My father will come for me, or maybe my brother. They always do."

"I want no trouble," Glaucos said. His eyes started to shift to Ercole.

"They know I'm here of my own accord. No one compels me to do anything against my will."

"Be careful of what you say. In Athens no woman is responsible for herself." Glacous looked at me, eyes narrowed under bushy eyebrows. "May I ask your name?"

"They called me Atana on Crete," I answered, remembering days in a different palace, of bulls and dancers and indolent, soft snakes.

"Atana." I saw the change in his eyes, anger replaced by hope. "I had thought, perhaps, we were forgotten. Forsworn."

"*You* did not break your oath."

His breath caught -- he believed. I could feel it like the warmth of a fire.

"Will you walk the rest of the way with me?" I asked.

"I've nothing left to lose," he said -- but his eyes betrayed him. They looked to Ercole again.

When we reached the wide harbors of Piraeus I could no longer hear the great sea god and land-shaker whispering old tales of wonder. The people had grown far too loud. I turned from the sea and looked to the plateau and the place I had loved in my youth.

"You're going to the Acropolis? They don't allow foreigners there," Ercole said. "And I'll never make it up the incline."

"I'll get you there," I said.

Glacous's hand caught hold of the younger man's arm and tightened so suddenly that Ercole looked startled. "Don't doubt, boy. Whatever you do, don't doubt."

I smiled. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No," Glacous said, silencing Ercole with another pinch of his arm. "It's only that -- that men have taught us to mistrust any promise. And he doesn't realize --"

"Realize what?" Ercole asked, sounding very tired and frustrated.

"Things that only you may see for yourself," I said. That was both the blessing and the curse of my existence. Ercole, lost in silent pain and mired in despair still almost dared to believe. He said nothing more as we walked through the long walls, up toward the city that was still the brightest jewel in the crown of the Mediterranean shores. I had loved this place and loved it still.

I had come looking for pretties and prayers that others told me were gone. Ah, but the people still went in crowds to the Acropolis. Then I saw the tainted smoke of sacrifices and heard the whisper of rote words spoken by priests and priestess who did not believe any more, and if they did not... how could the people believe?

Thunder shook the earth somewhere to the north of the city. Glacus looked that way and frowned. Ercole was spent, leaning on the crutch to stay to his feet.

"We can't go on," Glacus said in a cool, even voice.

"There are wonders on that mount," I promised, looking upward through a path lined with stone heroes and heartless statues of Gods.

"I know," he said. "I believe. But I can't leave Ercole."

"I said he would reach the Acropolis with us." I let my fingers touch Ercole's arm, gently lest it shock him. "You can walk the rest of the way, if you believe."

My fingers lingered on his arm while his heart pounded. I could feel the sharp pain in his back. And yet I could also feel a spirit that soared within the caged flesh and sang at the beauty life -- and suddenly *believed* so strongly that it took my breath away.

The storm blew harder as I took hold of Glacus and Ercole, leading them upward through the wind and the roar of thunder. Others rushed away, frantic to get down to the safety of their human habitations. I saw no one turn to the temples instead.

Clouds rolled overhead as Apollo dragged the sun downward toward the edge of the horizon and rest from a day's work; Twilight, that time when the Gods smiled upon the world for but a few moments longer.

We reached the temple that housed a statue clad in gold, and where hymns filled the air and sacrifices linked the humans to --

To me.

I gladly stepped out of the fury of Zeus's storm, the harbinger of his arrival. Glacous and Ercole stopped just within the portal, penitent and unsure, especially when the bevy of priestesses and acolytes descended upon us.

"Out!" an old hag shrieked, her Priestess robes flying in the breeze that followed me. "Take your dirt and mud and foreign heresies --"

I lifted a hand and she fell back, stunned as if I had struck her when I only wished her silent. The others murmured, discontented and afraid. Thunder shook the thick walls and I could hear Zeus calling my name.

"They told me in the High Halls that you no longer believed," I said. I stepped forward and they backed away, eyes gone wide. They thought I had gone mad. "The *Athenians* would not give up their belief, I said. They've been blessed. They have been given beyond their wants and needs so that they might better spread *my* blessing to others. Why would they spurn the gifts of their own patron Goddess?"

The old hag's heart pounded so hard that I could hear it above the calling of the wind. There came to her such a strong and fearful *belief* that I knew she would die of it -- but at least she would die in grace.

I took her hand. The fingers already felt cold, the old skin dry and the bones thin beneath the shuddering waves of heart driven blood. A beat or two more, then it would be done. "Pass to the other side in peace. Hades will see you safe."

Her fingers tightened and a look of youthful fire flashed in her eyes. I could see the ardent belief that had been worn away by years of rote prayers and political appeasement. Her hand trembled as she took a last, shuddering breath. Thunder rolled over us again and I saw Zeus himself standing by her passageway to peace. She was, I suspected, the last priestess who would walk that path.

I went on to the Sanctuary where the statue glittered golden even in the storm dulled light. Torches flared and smoke wreathed the ceiling in a mixture of cloying incense and the softer scent of dying flowers. I saw many offerings on the dais, but most were gaudy, given for show but not belief. Then I saw a single wild flower, swept aside and left to die, forgotten by the Priestess and her followers. Eventually it would crumble to dust and be swept away --

But I was *here* and the peasant boy's humble prayer for his young wife's health would not go unanswered. There would be a dozen other gifts as well for him, unasked for but bestowed because --

Because it was my *Twilight* and I had gifts to spare before I went to rest in the dark long night with my brethren in the High Halls.

"There were festivals," I said when I looked back at my two companions. "Singing and prayers and they vied, sometimes, to show me who was wiser. I loved wisdom."

"Atana," Glacous whispered. I saw painful loss in his eyes. I realized I had found him because he had never stopped believing. "Please --"

"It is time," I said. Apollo stood at the door, still sweaty from his long ride. "And who will harness your steeds tomorrow?" I asked. "Who will play your lyre?"

"The sun knows its way by now," Apollo said, though probably the others only heard the wind. "And the mortals know all the tunes by heart. Let us go, sister. Let us go, and leave the mortals to what fates they choose."

I looked back at the statue and the gifts of the heart that had already dwindled to a single wild flower in a field of pretense.

Time to rest.

I ran my fingers across the glittering robes of this heartless statue and came away with a fortune of gold coins that I wrapped in my shawl. I placed the gift in Glacous's hands.

"Go home to Crete," I said. "Go home and find happiness, for there will be none in Athens."

"They aren't all cruel," Ercole said, frightened for people who had sneered at him and turned their backs on his pain.

"Brave and kind," I said. "I won't harm them, but neither shall I be here to protect them. Their fate is now their own."

"Sister --" Apollo said, a soft whisper of a breeze.

No time to linger with friends. I *wished* Ercole well and stayed only long enough to see the pain disappear from his eyes.

It was a fine farewell.

****

Sometimes I dream in the long night. I see a place on the ocean swept shores of Crete and an ancient altar to Atana where, generation after generation, children bring wild flowers to place at my feet.



The End


****
Drop me a line and let me know what you thought of the story: zette@sff.net

And I hope to write to you again soon! Enjoy the new year!

Lazette Gifford
http://lazette.net