Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Lions of Nemea

April 14, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 22 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Welcome to Olympus, where the Muses of Greek Mythology are charged with the responsibility of discovering, inspiring, and guiding the young incarnations of legends past until they once again take the form of greatness.

Embark on an enchanting journey through Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1), a YA fantasy novel series inspired by my backyard neighbors, Biltmore Estate, in honor of George Vanderbilt‘s extraordinary legacy.

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the pair of massive marble lions guarding the main entrance of the house, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Lions of Nemea

I’VE COME no closer to finding answers. With each mystery we unraveled, another took its place.

“We need to move fast,” Seok shouted, his arms raised, shielding his face from the swirling storm, “before we’re buried in ice.”

Slipping down the winding wooded path, we made agonizingly slow progress towards the house, its towers and turrets barely visible through the globe of shaken snow.

The night was swallowed by shimmering powder, our own heavy steps muffled, our breaths snatched by fingers of freezing wind, reminding me how much I hated being cold.

Seok slid to a halt, his head swiveling wildly in every direction.

“What is it?” I asked, my words floating between us in puff of smoke.

And then I heard it–an unearthly growl piercing the blanket of silence. Two pairs of menacing red eyes hovered in the surging shadows, watching us.

Seok grabbed my hand, wrenching me forward. “Run!”

We tore through the deep drifts of the sprawling lawn, billowing clouds of crystals stinging where shards met skin.

Only a few feet away, I could make out the massive pair of stone lions guarding the threshold of Olympus. The masonry mammals lept from their marble perch, shaking the layers of snow from their impenetrable coats.

Without hesitation, we stumbled up the steps between them, throwing ourselves past the ancient gate. Only then, in the sheltering arms of the alcove, did I dare glance behind me.

The lions stalked towards the creature, their rumbling roars rivaling thunder. The threat, partially hidden behind sheets of ice, was a monstrous blur of fur and claws, its two terrifying heads snapping and snarling.

“Whoa–what the h–what is that thing?” I shrieked, shrinking back against Seok.

We fell backwards into the warm glow of the hall as the doors swung open. Tari glared down at us. “Where have you been?” she scolded, “you could’ve been stuck out there until Spring,” she gestured towards the raging storm.

“We would’ve been eaten well before then,” I grimaced, rubbing my head where it smacked the floor. “Clearly, that,” I jabbed my finger towards the doorway, “is a major violation of the leash law.”

Tari squinted at the scene outside, her eyes widening with alarm the moment they landed on the beast, its slick form slinking back into the sea of snow. She sucked in a breath. “There’s not a leash on earth that could hold Orthrus.

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Knight of Stone and Steel

April 12, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 28 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the life-sized limestone figure of St. Louis (King Louis IX of France, patron saint of architects), carved by Viennese sculptor, Karl Bitter, that adorns the exterior grand staircase tower, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Knight of Stone and Steel

Tariro

I GRIPPED the knight’s hand, the kindness in his stormcloud eyes felt familiar. “Are you hurt, Tariro?” he asked, his French-dipped words laced with something more than concern.

It was the first time, in my sixteen years at Olympus, that he’d come near me—this mystery of a man sheathed in stone and secrets.

“No, I’m…I don’t—” my world suddenly tilted, the colors twisting and turning into another time, another place.

***

The same knight stood before me, battered and broken, his armor dented with death and destruction, his sword soaked in spirits. A suffocating fog surrounded us, the air heavy with the copper scent of spilt blood. Fire raged all around us, a pool of hungry flames licking the shattered bones that littered the battlefield.

“Go!” he pleaded in French, “I’ll fend off the witch!” He swiped at the crimson river running from his brow, an angry gash grinning beneath the rusted metal mesh.

“I won’t leave you!” I heard myself shout, throwing my arms around his waist.

He pressed his torn lips to my head. “They mustn’t capture you, my love,” he whispered in my ear. “If we lose you–we lose everything.” He broke away from my embrace. “Atlas is waiting beyond the boundary.”

His head snapped to the side, where a cloaked figure emerged from the smoke.

“Go. Now!” he shouted, tightening his grip on the blade.

I stumbled towards the tree line, not daring to look back until I reached the shelter of Atlas.

I felt it before my eyes could register the loss.

My heart died the moment he was swallowed by stone.

***

“Tariro,” the knight prodded, gently cupping my shoulders.

I sucked in a breath, as if I’d been drowning. My heart was pounding against its cage, desperate to escape into the arms of a memory. “I know you,” I stammered.

He took a step back, releasing his hold. “Of course. I’ve been here since the day you first arrived, guarding the tower—”

“No,” I shook my head, “not from this life.”

I could see the truth of it in his eyes.

“Tell me who I am, Louis.”

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Joan of Arc

April 11, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 22 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the life-sized limestone figure of St. Joan of Arc carved by Viennese sculptor, Karl Bitter, that adorns the exterior grand staircase tower, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Joan of Arc

IT WAS nearing midnight, when nothing but the fingers of moonlight grazed the grand staircase. The staff had long since retired, the students slumbered, but the house, though silent, never slept.

Even now, I sensed a shift in the air that slipped between the seams of Olympus. The scraping of stone against metal drew me to the window. I peered through the spider web of leaded glass to the ground below, where a solitary figure stood watch.

The boy’s head was tilted, his intense gaze trained on something above me. I recognized the wild-eyes and tousled hair of Conrí.

A cloud of limestone dust fell from the ledge overhead, followed by the falling of a body. Someone had jumped from the third floor of the spiraling tower.

I watched, horrified, as the ashen shape dropped. The shattering of rocks echoed off the walls, the moment their feet shattered the concrete.

It wasn’t human.

The impact cracked the statue’s stone skin, which crumbled and fell away from the shining armor and blood red cloak beneath.

The knight removed its shimmering helmet, running a gloved hand across its cropped hair. The moon kissed its flushed face, illuminating the stunning features of a woman.

A grin played upon Conrí’s lips as he reached to embrace her.

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Indoor Swimming Cetus

April 10, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 19 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the indoor swimming pool measuring over fifty feet long, with a 17,000 gallon capacity, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Indoor Swimming Cetus

MAN OVERBOARD!” cried a boy from the basement door. Within seconds, every student within earshot was barreling down the stairs.

Tariro’s ebony face paled, alarm gripping her sea-green eyes. “What happened?” I asked.

“Someone’s in the pool,” she stammered.

“Someone’s drowning?” I prodded, pulling her towards the bowels of the house.

Tariro shook her head, lips trembling. “It’s Thursday…no one’s allowed in the pool on Thursdays.”

She wasn’t making any sense. “Why aren’t they allowed?” I tossed over my shoulder, navigating the narrow steps.

“Cetus.”

“What is that…like industrial pool chemicals?” I stumbled through the limestone tunnels, the humid air thick with fear.

Tariro didn’t answer, just shook her head, eyes wide with unexplained terror.

We tore past the dressing rooms into a hall crowded with bodies, the same expression of horror painted on their faces. Whispers spread like wildfire, the same strange word tumbling from their mouths.

Cetus

I pushed past the mass of students, barely squeezing onto the oak planks. A briny haze choked the room. Frantic splashing echoed off the slick ghostly tiles that swallowed the walls and ceiling. An eerie glow pulsated from the water’s depths, throwing the room into shadows. I seized the wooden railing and peered over the edge.

Two phantom forms flailed in the pool—a boy wrapped around another, his powerful strokes driving them within reach of a ladder. A group of students reached for the drowning boy, pulling him onto the landing. Sighs of relief rippled across the room.

Before the raven-haired boy could hoist himself up the rungs, a deafening rumble shook the room. Shouts rang out as a massive form peeled away from the floor of the pool. The scaled tiles stretched and shifted into the shape of a serpent, its slippery tail slicing a path through the water toward the struggling boy. A pair of glaring green orbs slid open on its broad head.

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Hearthstone

April 9, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 22 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the Banquet Hall’s triple stone fireplace featuring a high relief panel entitled, “The Return from the Chase,” carved by acclaimed Viennese sculptor Karl Bitter, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Hearthstone

TENDRILS OF burning pine pulled me to the glowing mouths, their fiery tongues licked at my skin, consuming the chill that gripped my heart.

A procession of men and beast paraded across the towering triple hearth, their fluid forms spilling from the stone in perpetual pursuit.

“It takes a master to capture the essence of movement,” Seok whispered, his warm honey voice laced with reverence. I watched his gaze caress the intricate carvings as they slipped and shifted along the panel, flames flickering in his silver eyes.

“They say you’re a master,” I said softly, my own gaze tracing the delicate lines of his face.

“Perhaps I was…long ago,” he turned to face me. “I’ve much to learn in this life, if I’m to live up to the legends before me.”

“Is it true? That you’re an incarnation of Daedalus?”

Seok tilted his head, a slip of a smile hiding behind locks of raven hair. “Does it matter? We may share the same spirit, but I’ve none of his memories.” He stretched his hands out between us, palms facing the soaring ceiling, long fingers flexing into fists. “It’s up to me to shape my destiny in this life. The gifts coursing through my veins mean nothing without the passion to create—to be something greater than I am.”

“At least you know what you’re destined for,” I muttered, “They haven’t a clue who I was…who I’m meant to be. I don’t…I’m not like you,” I turned away from him, pain burning a trail down my cheek. “I don’t belong here.”

“Anise,” he edged towards me. “The past doesn’t control your fate,” he said, gently brushing back my curls. “There’s greatness in you,” he cupped my chin, his almond eyes searching mine. “Believe that it’s there and anything is possible.

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Gargoyles, Grotesques & Bears

April 8, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 20 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the Gargoyles, Grotesques & even the Bear hugging his honeypot, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Gargoyles, Grotesques & Bears

THE ROOFTOP buzzed with the beat of a hundred hearts. The crisp night air sizzled with the dancing of hands over the taut skins of drums. The pounding pulse of percussion hummed through our veins with infectious energy.

The copper dome winked in the torchlight, reflecting silvery sparks that floated over our island of music into a sea of stars. Whistles rode the wind, while laughter tumbled from lips. Stirring strings plucked our feet from the floor, pulling us into a restless rhythm that stole our breath.

If you were still, you were most likely dead.

“That’s Conrí,” Tari shouted, pointing to a slick and slender boy with wild chestnut hair and even wilder eyes. “That boy knows his way around a djembe,” she grinned, admiration lighting her gaze.

It took me a full minute to make out the drumming figures on either side of him, their sharp ashen features blending seamlessly with the shadows. “Those are gargoyles!” I blurted, slapping Tari out of her lovesick daze.

Tari rubbed her arm, shooting me a withering look. “And those are grotesques,” she casually waved her hand over the crowd of students. I strained my eyes, spotting two tiny gnomes strumming mandolins. “They always awaken on drum nights,” she added, as if the animation of stone statuary were an everyday occurrence.

Perhaps it was.

“And that?” I asked, gesturing past a miniature marble man who was blocking his ears against the assault towering over him.

“That’s a bear,” Tari replied.

“A bear?”

“Don’t let his calm demeanor fool ya. Cedric plays a mean honeypot.

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Fountain of Hippocrene

April 7, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 22 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the Satyr fountain adorning the wall of the South Terrace, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Fountain of Hippocrene

THE SATYR’S face was frightful. A wicked set of goat horns curled past large pointed ears that protruded from tufts of hair, twisted and tangled around a wreath of wild grapevines. A strong, flat nose perched above stained lips, his matted beard bubbling beneath a rivulet of glistening gold that pooled at my feet.

“You want me to drink from that?” I asked Tari, my voice tinged with more than a little doubt. “The water doesn’t look very…sanitary,” I added, glancing at the wrinkled patina brow of the fountain’s head, as if he, too, was skeptical.

Tari rolled her sea-green eyes in a tide of irritation. “This is the Fountain of Hippocrene,” she sighed inwardly, “the entire student body drinks from it. As far as I know, there’s never been a casualty,” she smirked, sweeping her hand towards the crowded lawn, a hundred different fingers gripping cups of the liquid in question.

She held a crystal goblet underneath the shimmering patina mouth, droplets spilling onto the brim, and pressed it into my palm. “Is this like, special Greek lemonade, cuz I’m not nearly drinking age,” I quipped, sniffing the swirling liquid.

Tari shot me a disapproving glare. “The waters of Dionysus can taste like lemons, or wine or a million other things, depending upon who drinks it. It imparts a gift of divination in the realm of romantic relations—one only you can experience.”

“So it’s a hallucinogenic aphrodisiac punch?” I clarified, eyebrows raised. I’m not into mind-altering substances, regardless of the perks.

“It lasts all of five seconds,” Tari reasoned, “and, according to the Turtles, it may help you find answers,” she coaxed the cup to my mouth.

I took a tentative sip. It tasted like warm cinnamon and cloves mixed with honey. The edges of my vision blurred. The background noise faded into floating flutes and wispy wind chimes. The silvery pool shimmered, replacing the curly ginger hair and pale skin of my reflection, with that of another.

A boy with striking almond eyes of sparkling slate smiled back at me, a shock of raven hair falling over the flawless sandstone skin of his Asian heritage. The boy who could steal the breath from my lungs without even trying.

Seok

Between heartbeats, the phantom image shifted, the boy’s features crumpled with agony and despair.

A deep voice drummed from the mounted head of the satyr, his iron gaze fixed on mine. Whispers of a warning floated from whiskered lips, humming with urgency.

“Beware the spirit of stone.”

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Elevator Music

April 5, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 18 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a photo of Biltmore Estate’s Otis elevator, one of the oldest operating systems in the world today, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Elevator Music

IT FELT as if my arms would drop off my body at any moment. I took one look at the massive stone staircase and shook my head. “No. No way am I carrying these up those stairs.” The stack of leather bound books weighed about a thousand pounds, their breath stale with the dust of dead languages.

Tari’s brow wrinkled, her sea-green eyes darting between the daunting trek ahead and a small door hidden in the shadows. She shifted her arms around the half dozen books weighing her down, puffing at the inky ringlets dangling in her face. “We could take the elevator.”

“There’s an elevator?” I looked pointedly at her. “And why haven’t you shared this information before now?” I cocked my head. “Do you know how many times I could’ve been on time for class, had you shared this valuable shortcut?”

Tari bit back a grin. “It’s not exactly a shortcut.”

I blew out an exasperated sigh and trudged towards the door. “I’m willing to embrace the path of least resistance.”

The door beckoned, its frame split between oak paneling and ornate wrought iron swirls embedded in leaded glass. The door slid open on its own, revealing a cozy honeyed floor, gleaming brass lamps and intricate windows of metalwork.

I scooted aside to allow room for Tari, who was shaking her head. “What?” I asked, thinking things were finally looking up.

The door eased shut with the sound of pulleys and gears working to lift the cage. I caught a movement through the glass. Something small was swinging from a tail, like a creepy pendulum. “Is that…a chimp?” I asked, my eyes tracking its swaying limbs.

Tari nodded her head without looking at the upside down face sticking its tongue out. “Yup. That would be Otis. He maintains the cables.”

“A marble monkey maintains the cables?” I looked up at the shaking ceiling. “Oddly, that makes sense. Primates love heights.”

Another sound filled the shaft, akin to the tinkering tones of toy instruments.

“Oh, he’s playing elevator music. Excellent,” I looked over at Tari, her eyes watering with barely suppressed joy at my expense. “This is going to take awhile, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Diana, Goddess of the Hunt

April 4, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 19 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate’s marble statue of the Goddess, Diana, click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Diana, Goddess of the Hunt

I STOOD on a serene hill, watching the sun dip behind majestic mountains, the last of its rays kissing copper flashing that ran along the slated crown of Olympus. It was peaceful, this secret place surrounded by silent hemlocks, the air heavy with the promise of rain.

“I never tire of the view,” a voice whispered. I tilted my head to glance at the woman stepping in beside me. From her golden halo of hair that curled into elaborate knots, to the silky sage chiton hugging her powerful frame, she oozed with power.

“What’s your name, child?” she asked, her emerald gaze oddly protective.

“Anise.”

She studied me with the keen eye of a hunter. “Your path is fraught with danger, Anise. Be wary of whom you align yourself with. Not everyone is what they seem.”

“My…path? I don’t–” I stammered, my mind wrapping around the unexpected warning.

“You must look beyond who you are to who you must become. Only then, will you be free,” she cautioned. She snapped her head towards the horizon where the day was slowly swallowed by the stars. Turning her back, she moved swiftly towards a small temple at the top of the slope, a quiver of arrows swaying across her back.

“I don’t understand. Please,” I called out, running after her. “Wait!”

A guttural growl sunk into my spine, rooting me to the spot. A foot away, a dwarf of a dog stood between me and answers, his tiny snout sprouting a wicked grin, baring the razor sharp teeth of a puppy. Its coffee coat was cropped close to the skin, delicate ears pulled back against its narrow skull, daring me to move.

“Venator! Come!” the woman commanded.

The eager pup tore back to its master, hopping onto a pedestal the woman had balanced upon. She reached a hand to nuzzle its nose moments before their skin slipped into stone.

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Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1): Chariot of Aurora

April 3, 2014July 18, 2014 / WriterlySam / 24 Comments

Castle in the Mountains by Gray Artus

Join me, and a cast of brilliant film composers, as we awaken your imagination to the magic of the mountains during this year’s international A to Z Challenge (representing #TeamDamyanti).

▶ For a detailed PHOTO TOUR of Biltmore Estate, including the library’s Pellegrini ceiling painting, The Chariot of Aurora (where there is, in fact, a rooster) click HERE! Want to read more? Visit my A to Z “Sneak Peeks” page!

Chariot of Aurora

TARIRO EDGED closer, transfixed by the swirling ball of magic dangling from my neck. “Your teleo…it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen one like it.” She reached for the crystal, twirling it between her fingers. The storm clouds pitched and rolled within, igniting tiny silver sparks. Tariro’s sea-glass eyes lit up, her lips curving with delight. “You must have been someone quite special.”

It’s a surreal notion, referring casually to one’s previous lives when I’ve yet to find purchase in my current one.

Before I could reply, an ethereal figure threw open the library doors in a flock of doves, her trailing gossamer gown unfurled like feathery wings. “I am Calliope, your headmaster. Welcome to my domain,” she announced, her arms outstretched to encompass Delphi’s mountain of words in ancient bindings, their stale breaths bound between the pages.

A red bantam rooster, who apparently lost sight of his proper place, hopped onto the edge of a large ceramic bowl depicting a five-fingered Chinese dragon, scaring me half to death.

My attention snapped back to the Muse of epic literature moving fluidly about the room. Like a Native American princess, her radiant caramel skin and startling violet eyes glowed with wisdom. A feather-adorned raven river cascaded down her back, pooling at bare feet. She gestured towards the soaring ceiling, reverently. “Here, you shall discover who you once were, who you are, and who you shall become!”

I followed her gaze to the painted scene above.

Beyond the intricate Grecian columns, the light of learning penetrated the billowing clouds of an open sky where angels welcomed the dawn, flowing robes and feathers dancing in the wind.

I felt a sharp prick on the tender flesh of my wrist. The chicken, enamored with my shiny silver-plated band, pecked away with abandon, determined to draw blood. I shooed him away with a flap of my highly irritated hand. In a not-so-subtle batting of wings and squawks, the rooster flew up to the pictorial balcony and landed, astonishingly, atop one of its pillars, its plumage transformed into painted canvas. My mouth hung open as oil-glazed women leaned over and waved, their laughter trickling down in the space between myths and magic.

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