Tortall (42 page)

The queen leaned forward and gripped my arm hard. There was more strength, or desperation, in her fingers than I would have expected. “Is that why you are here? To find my son?”

People are always asking where writers get ideas, and they marvel at the odd, curdled expression on the writer’s face. It comes from the avalanche of replies to such a complicated question. Short stories, at least, have a simpler answer, and there are people I would like to thank for ideas and shaping. I am particularly tremulous when it comes to short stories (when you see how long some of these are, you’ll figure out why), and so my gratitude for any help with them is a rich and gripping thing (for me, anyway).

“Plain Magic”

My thanks to David Fickling and Douglas Hill, who gave me the chance to publish my first (and for a very long time my
only)
fantasy short story, and to Terry Ofner and his daughter Johanna, who loved it and brought it to the United States, where it’s had several quiet rebirths.

“Student of Ostriches”

My thanks to the fans who wanted to find out about Liam Ironarm’s friend Kylaia al Jmaa and the Shang Unicorn, and to Mallory, who edited it into something less crazy.

“The Dragon’s Tale”

To Christina of Undiscovered Treasures, who sold me my first fire opal; to the wicked lady at the gem show next door to New York Sheep and Wool, who sold me the Ethiopian opals that have kept me in thrall ever since; and
to Gardner Dozois and Jack Dann, so patient regarding time and length.

“Lost”

To my mathematicians, particularly Becca, who checked my math, as well as to Lexa, Lisa, and my other math fans who love it when I write outside my comfort zone; to the darkings’ fans, particularly their Muse, “Queen Thayet” Raquel, who keep them at the front of my mind, ready for new adventures; and to the former teacher Bruce Coville, who hates people who clip kids’ wings as much as I do.

“Elder Brother”

To Bruce again, because he gave me the chance to discover what became of the tree that turned into a man, because as a good editor he let me talk myself into a loony writer’s choice; and to the Taliban, which makes me crazy.

“The Hidden Girl”

To the Christians, Jews, and Muslims of the world who actually read all of their holy books, and to the teachers of the world, some of whom risk their careers, if not their very lives, to ensure that we don’t grow up to be ignorant.

“Testing”

To the girls of the McAuley Home, whom I still miss. It’s because of you that I write for teenagers, and developed survival skills!

“Mimic”

To Claire Smith and Craig Tenney: it may have taken me nearly twenty-five years, and it isn’t a children’s book, but I finally got it right!

“Huntress”

To Sharyn November, who helped me to get this particular knot out of my craw, to imagine, at least, that justice can be had for the victims of the world.

“Time of Proving”

To David Wyatt, whose art—and in this case, map—still makes me say many enchanted things.

“Nawat”

To Kit, and the mothers who read my private Live Journal, who set me straight on the many ins and outs of breast-feeding—my heartfelt thanks. Had I gone by the advice online, I would still be working on the story, or curled up in a closet!

And to Schuyler Hooke, who has been so unendingly patient with a project that was only supposed to be “and three additional short stories”—I owe you so big-time!

An avid reader,
T
AMORA
P
IERCE
has written everything from novels to radio plays. Her novels have been translated into eleven languages, and some are available as audiobooks from Listening Library and Full Cast Audio. This is the first time her short fiction has been collected.

She lives in Syracuse, New York, with her husband, Tim, a writer, Web page designer, and Web administrator. They share their home with a myriad of critters, none of whom breathe fire, to their knowledge.