By John G. Stockmyer

Lately deciding to buy what used to be stated to be a "haunted house," John Lyon, younger Kansas urban historian, stumbled into an alternative fact accessed from the cupboard space lower than his stairs. He was once in a position to make it domestic from the 1st journey to Bandworld unscathed.

His twentieth Century wisdom now buttressed via the magic he'd realized to exploit within the trade global ... what can be unsuitable with taking one other journey to enchantment-land? not anything. . . if you happen to do not count number John's come across with the lxlop, being caged by way of Pfnaravin, and a perilous conflict with the Azare Mage-King Auro!

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Extra info for Back Under The Stairs (Bandworld Series - Book #2)

Sample text

Then, good King Cleadon had been murdered. Was succeeded -- in the absence of the true-blood prince -- by the king's half brother, Lithoid; among dark muttering that Lithoid had conspired in his brother's death. But only mutterings -- if you would live! With the flash of an assassin's knife, Lithoid had changed allegiance to fight along side the evil Auro! Still, a soldier supported king and country. The next shock came when Pfnaravin, Mage of Malachite, fled to Stil-de-grain to organize the opposition's Mages in a successful attempt to shift the blue sky above Azare toward the black.

Or something ... else. Upon his return, John had been so sure he'd never go back that he'd nailed shut the wedge-shaped, storage door. Was he again considering ...? No. Time -- past time -- to add a period to that "other worldly" chapter in his life. John put on his heavy coat, wrapped the short power cord about the Van de Graaff's shiny metal "head," picked up the machine, and thumped out the front door with it. Outside, struggling the "droid-shaped" static maker into the back "seat" of his battered Mazda, he got in and revved up the sports car's rotary to roar off down his private access road to 72nd.

He would hurt her if he knew she was an Etherial. He must never find that out! "I am not a child," Platinia said in her little voice. So little, that the room gave no ... echo ... when she spoke. The Army Head walked down the line, stopping before her. "I see, now, that you are no child," he said, nodding his head, smiling down his wrinkled smile. He was big; but smaller than most men she knew. "Understand that I am Leet, Head of these men from Malachite. If you know something, you had better tell me now.

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