YOU GUYS, I HAVE FINISHED MY BOOK.
Which one? Well. Not the one I was *supposed* to be working on, of course. The other one. How Not To Take Over The World, affectionately known as HNOT đ If you’ve been following along on Twitter, you’ll have seen a few of my favourite lines over the last few weeks (search for my handle, @inkylaurens, plus #HNOT). But just in case you’ve missed all that, I’ve pasted the first chapter for you below đ
How Not To Take Over The World follows the adventures of Mercury Adadiy, new graduate of the Evil Overlord Academy, as she tries to secure her castle and protect her city from a new threat–and of course, there’s Deviran (de-VEER-an), competing graduate who’s after the exact same castle. Hijinks and shenanigans occur, obviously.
The book will be out in October, with a proper blurb and pre-orders coming sometime around August.
YAY, EVERYBODEE!! I FINISHED ANOTHER BOOK!!! <3 <3 <3
HOW NOT TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD
On a hard plastic chair in the front row of the Great Hall in the worldâs fifth-best Evil Overlording Academy, with its red-wooden parquetry floor that spoke of wealth and the beige, square panels of soundboards speaking of conservatism on the walls, Mercury sat, pointedly not sweating. Partly, this was because the Academy Administrators had deigned to turn on the air-conditioning earlier in the day, in recognition of the fact that the hall would be packed out with approximately six hundred bodies, all here to celebrate the graduation of about a third of that crowd. But mostly, Mercury was pointedly not sweating because she made it a point never to sweat, sweat being an indication that she was working hard, and hard work being antithetical to her way of life.
However. If she had been sweating right now, it would not have been due to the uncomfortable warmth of six hundred packed bodies that even the air-conditioning system couldnât completely shift, or even from overexertion. Instead, it would have been caused by an even more unfamiliar concept in Mercuryâs emotional vocabulary: nervousness.
Mercury did not get nervous. Mercury got things done.
So that fact that she was sitting here, in the front row of the Great Hall, about to graduate from Evil Overlording Academy with distinction, and was feeling nervous⌠She crumpled the paper program in her fists. It made her furious, thatâs what it did. Abjectly furious, that snooty-tooty Deviran with his stupid morals and his stupid I-donât-want-to-be-here and his stupid Overlords-are-empty-figureheads and his stupid face sitting ten people over, looking implacable with his deep brown skin and barely-there, precision-groomed beard, as though he knew it gave him a stupid air of alluringly stupid mysteryâŚ
Mercury scowled and searched for the train of thought that had been derailed, yet again, by Deviranâs stupidity.
Ah. Yes. She was angry because she was nervous because she wasnât absolutely entirely one hundred and fifty percent sure that sheâd beaten Deviran in their final exams, and one, being anything less than a hundred and fifty percent certain of anything made her cranky, and two, being beaten by Deviran for dux of the year would be utterly unbearable. She flicked away a piece of fluff that had become snagged under her immaculately painted nails and smoothed out the black-paper program.
In the front corner of the hall, the starkly-attired string quartet with their traditional blacked-out instruments began playing the March of the Oncoming Doom. The screechy scrapes of hundreds of chairs on the hallâs wooden floor sounded as the crowd climbed to its collective feet.
Mercury sat with her arms firmly folded for a few moments longer, until her best friend Sparky kicked her in the ankle.
âGet up, idiot,â Sparky hissed, hints of real flame flickering through her flame-coloured pixie cut.
âNo,â Mercury said, flouncing to her feet and tossing her own glossy brown hair back over her shoulders. Four years sheâd been playing by the Academyâs rules in order to get what she wanted, and sheâd had just about enough. Other peopleâs rules should only be applied to plebs too stupid to invent their own.
Sparky rolled her eyes before focusing on the stage, where the ceremonial party had begun entering.
Mercury clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes as the teachers of the Evil Overlording Academy filed onto the stage, dressed in their formal finery. Each teacher had their own distinctive look that matched their personality and their Overlording style, from severe charcoal suits to jet-black leathers, pastel ballgowns and gem-toned lingerie and eye-blinding spandex, and even on one tiny old woman at the back, worn jeans and a grey flannel shirt. She was the one to watch out for, of course; Mercury could respect an Overlord who was confident enough in their abilities that they didnât need to telegraph them. It wasnât a look she would consider, of course, but still. She could respect it.
The bandâs march finished and, after a moderately awkward pause, the crowd sat. The Principal, pale skin and dark hair matching his suspiciously vampiric red-and-black suit, took the podium, and Mercury narrowed her eyes. He was doing a superb job of hiding itâhe was a premier Evil Overlord, after allâbut she was Mercury, and unlike anyone else, she had the benefit of being able to rummage through peopleâs consciousnesses. She was better at adding things in than taking things out, but he was telegraphing fear loudly enough that she could sense it without trying too hard.
Mercury pursed her lips. Hmm.
The Principal cleared his throat at the blackened-wood podium, and the fear made it into his usually-unreadable eyes. âBefore we begin,â he said, and Mercuryâs stomach did a peculiar kind of flip-flop. âI have a pressing announcement to make regarding the safety of our students and their families.â He cleared his throat again and took out a sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolding it carefully and smoothing out the creases before beginning again. âThe Councilââquiet booing echoed around the hall, and Mercury tsked impatientlyââhave asked me to recommend that students from Tumul Tuos seriously consider postponing their return to town for a few days. The city is dealing with a situation at present which may present a danger to our studentsâ health and safety.â
Mercuryâs hands fisted at her sides and she forced herself to remain seated. What was wrong with her city? What had the Council mucked up now? A risk to the studentsâ safety? There had to be more he wasnât telling them. Gently, Mercury tugged on his consciousness, implanting the suggestion that it might be better to share the news than to keep it secret. After all, how could they fight an enemy they didnât know?
âThere are, ahâŚâ He trailed off, glancing side to side as though wondering why his mouth had decided to continue.
Mercury didnât snicker, but she did press her lips together in satisfaction.
The Principal took a deep, steadying breath and seemed to change tack. âThere has been one death already. The family have already been notified, so it is with much regret that I must inform you that Woovermyer will no longer be with us at the Evil Overlording Academy.â
Murmurs broke out around the room, not all of them sadâto be expected in a school devoted to raising the next generation of dictators (ish) and despots (of sorts).
Mercury, however, crushed her program in her left hand, fist so tight her nails bit her palm.
âYou okay?â Sparky murmured, leaning towards her.
Mercury gave a single, tense shake of her head and stared at the podium. Dead. Livie Woovermyer was dead in her city. And the Council hadnât done anything to stop it. Couldnât do anything to stop it, probably, given theyâd warned the students to stay away. Livie hadnât been the strongest candidate in the year level, but she was no lightweight, either. It would take a lot of power to kill a Seven.
Enough was enough. A good thing Mercury was about to graduate at the top of the class, giving her the right to knock the lowest ranking current Overlord off their perch. Tumul Tuos would be hers in a matter of hours. And then thereâd be no more of these wasteful deaths. Her city would be safe at last.
Madame Pompadour was up the front now, elbow gloves the same glimmery silver colour as her elaborate, piled-curls wig, eyelids gleaming with matching silver eye shadow, and abruptly Mercury realised Madame was there to make the announcement that would change her life forever. She leaned forward in her seat, ready to stand when her name was called.
âAnd now the announcement youâve all been dying for,â the Political Alliances teacher trilled, the frills on her evening gown fluttering as she moved. âThe dux of this yearâs cohort!â
Sweat slicked Mercuryâs palms. Irritated, she reached over and wiped them on Sparkyâs thigh.
Sparky pushed Mercuryâs hands back into her own personal space bubble and Mercury, nervous to the edge of distraction, let her.
âWill you please join me in welcoming to the stage, our wonderful dux for this year, Deviran Goodsmith!â
Mercury froze halfway to standing. âDid she just say Deviran?â she whispered furiously to Sparky.
Sparky hauled her forcibly back into her seat. âYes,â she hissed back. âSit down, youâre making a fool of yourself.â
Mercuryâs spine snapped upright as she sat, and she arranged the folds of her long black skirt demurely. âNo Iâm not.â She closed her eyes. âDeviranâs going up to the stage, isnât he?â Even at a whisper, the misery in her voice was clear, but this time, she didnât care.
Sparky reached over and squeezed her hand.
Mercury squeezed back, lacing her fingers through Sparkyâs, and held tight as all her plans and dreams vanished in front of her.
A stone had landed in her chest. That must be it. Some strange sort of magic that made her chest contract and sink, and made the world distort for just a moment, long enough to trick her into thinking Deviran had beaten her so that someone could jump in front of her and yell SURPRISE!
Any moment now.
Any moment.
She refused to open her eyes and watch Deviran parading across the stupid stage like some stupid stupid-person, receiving his stupid medal and stupid symbolic crest pin.
It was that last exam question. Sheâd known Deviran would pull out his ridiculous âEvil Overlords are merely figureheads, the Business Guild is where the power really liesâ rant that everyone had heard a million times back when he was younger and angrier, and sheâd tried to counter it, she really had. Sheâd argued for the importance of the Overlording position, for the power of having a symbolic figure to unite the population in their hatred, for having a person able to make all the difficult, necessary decisions the Council was too weak and spineless to make⌠But it hadnât been enough. Everything sheâd worked for, everything sheâd set out to proveâand it wasnât enough.
There were words, there were names, and then forever later, once sheâd died twice already, Sparky elbowed her in the ribs. âCome on,â Sparky muttered. âWeâre up next.â
And just as Sparky said, there was a shuffling of presenters and the next speaker announced in threatening, funereal tones, âThe Overlording class.â
Mercury blinked furiously and followed Sparky to the end of the line at the right side of the stage. The other candidates proceeded one at a time across the stage, two girls and then stupid Deviran, and then a handful more and then Sparky, and then the speaker was calling her name.
Hands fisted, Mercury tossed her head high, climbed the four steps, and marched across the stage. She wouldnât look at them, the stupid faculty whoâd denied her the city she rightfully deserved, and she wouldnât look the other way either, at the classmates and crowd undoubtedly sniggering at her failure.
She shook hands with the presenter, and while he pinned the tiny crossed-swords badge on her collar, her eyes betrayed her and slid towards the audience. Her stomach flipped as she saw the crowd of parents and friends behind the rows of students, all the way to the back of the hall, twenty rows at least, illuminated by the late afternoon light streaming in through the ceiling-high windows to the right. Everyone had someone here to watch them graduate. Everyone except Weird Alâand her.
The presenter finished with her pin, muttered something to her, and offered his hand again. Mercury coldly ignored it and strode from the stage. It didnât matter. None of it mattered. Tumul Tuos was her city anyway, and no one could change that. Sheâd think of something. Sheâd take a day or two out, make some plansâŚ
And she could always hope that Deviran would choose some other Overlording territory. Heâd be stupid to, but then again, he was stupid, so. Mercury could hope.
All at once, mid-way down the steps off the stage, Mercury came to rigid attention, scanning the room. Somewhere out there in the crowd, an exchange of power had just taken place, and it felt⌠unusual.
But the final few students were backing up behind her and muttering, so Mercury headed back toward her seat, craning her head all the while and searching for some sign of whatever it was that had just discharged a dizzyingly quiet amount of power into the room.
She sat, and Sparky leaned over. âOkay?â
âMm,â said Mercury. âDid you feelâŚâ She accidentally caught the eye of the student behind her and twisted back to face the front.
âFeel what?â
Mercury turned it over in her mind. It had felt like a large shot of power discharged very quietlyâbut perhaps it hadnât been. Perhaps it had only been a small discharge after all, something most people wouldnât have noticed.
But still, something about it had tugged on her. It very nearly felt like something sheâd felt before, only she knew sheâd never sensed that kind of discharge before.
She shook her head. âNever mind. Donât worry.â
Sparky sighed and straightened. âItâs fine, Mercury,â she said, drily exasperated. âI know you didnât win, but I promise, youâll live through it.â
Mercury waved a hand for silence. The power had just discharged again, and it had come from somewhere in the back corner, far away from the windows and light.
Impatiently, Mercury waited for the formalities to conclude. The crowd stood while the quartet played the exit march, and the stage party left, Mercury tapping her foot all the while.
The moment the last notes of the march died away, Mercury turned and headed to the back corner, weaving in and out of the students and parents who had seemed to explode slowly but inexorably out from the neat rows of seating, ignoring Sparkyâs calls behind her. Power, something that tugged in a way that was strange and familiar, all at once. She pushed her way through a family posing for picturesâand halted.
In the shadows of the back corner, Deviran stood with his family, with his stupid, smug little smile, looking as tall and dark and stupidly alluring as ever. Prat.
His mother, short but sleek, and his fatherâtall, and utterly terrifying in a way not at all diminished by his gleaming smileâgushed over him, patting his back and hugging him tight. Within moments the Principal was there, glibly shaking hands and congratulating them on the success of their son. Something flickered across his consciousness, and also Deviranâs fatherâs, some moment of recognition in response to what they were sayingâbut Mercury brushed it aside just as the mother brushed melodramatic tears from her cheeks and handed Deviran a silver-wrapped package about as long as her hand but half the width.
That. That was the source of the strange, magical feeling. Mercury watched hawk-eyed as Deviran unwrapped the gift. A glimpse of gold set her pulse racingâWhat was it? What did it do? Could she steal it?âand then the paper fell away to the floor, and Deviran stood staring wordlessly at the object in his hands, and Mercury did too.
Wide-eyed, Deviran raised his gaze to his parents, and she could hear the reverence in his voice as he thanked them even from here.
But Mercury had eyes only for the object. No wonder sheâd felt it discharge, and no wonder it had felt both strange and familiar. In Deviranâs hands lay a glorious, sunshine-gold key, large and strongâand with a handle in the shape of a stylised fish, long, flowing fins curving to make the grip.
A Key. Theyâd given him a Key. And not just any Key, but the Key, her Key, the Artefact of Power belonging to her city.
A wordless noise of wanting rose in Mercuryâs throat. Who cared about being dux? She needed that Key.
If you want to read more, the first three chapters are up on Patreon for everyone at $2/month+. ALSO early chapters of the book on Theme for Writers are trickling their way onto Patreon as well, available for supporters at every level! đ
