Origin of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector #3)(60)
Click here to get the rest of Hidden Magic for free
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading Origin of Magic! If you’ve read any of my other books, you won’t be surprised to hear that I included historical elements. If you’re interested in learning more about that, read on. At the end, I’ll talk a bit about why Nix and her deirfiúr are treasure hunters and how I try to make that fit with archaeology’s ethics (which don’t condone treasure hunting, as I’m sure you might have guessed).
Nix’s village was inspired by Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert in southwestern France, an ancient city that ascends a valley between two mountains, and by the portrayal of Themyscira in 2017’s Wonder Woman movie. To my eye, Themyscira, Wonder Woman’s home, looked like Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert on steroids. Both places are beautiful and trapped away from time, which made them perfect places for Nix to grow up. I did my best to describe the city of Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, but one of the most interesting parts that was hard to fit into the book were the fountains that ran all along the street. They are fed constantly by the rivers and are always flowing, draining into a basin and then down onto the slanted cobblestone street. They are an incredibly impressive piece of ancient architecture.
Death Valley was chosen the perfect place to test Nix’s skills. Where better to put Life than in Death Valley? Though Death Valley was given its name by a group of pioneers in 1949-50, Native Americans from the Timbisha Shoshone Tribe have lived there for over a thousand years. Many of the obstacles in the book were inspired by real places in Death Valley: Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, Ubehebe Crater, and Badwater Basin, a dried-up ancient lake that is the lowest point in America. All sorts of minerals and metals have been mined in Death Valley over the years, including gold. Abandoned mines and towns scatter the landscape there, long since abandoned.
That’s it for the historical influences in Origin of Magic. However, one of the most important things about this book is how Nix and her deirfiúr treat artifacts and their business, Ancient Magic.
As I’m sure you know, archaeology isn’t quite like Indiana Jones (for which I’m both grateful and bitterly disappointed). Sure, it’s exciting and full of travel. However, booby-traps are not as common as I expected. Total number of booby-traps I have encountered in my career: zero. Still hoping, though.
When I chose to write a series about archaeology and treasure hunting, I knew I had a careful line to tread. There is a big difference between these two activities. As much as I value artifacts, they are not treasure. Not even the gold artifacts. They are pieces of our history that contain valuable information, and as such, they belong to all of us. Every artifact that is excavated should be properly conserved and stored in a museum so that everyone can have access to our history. No one single person can own history, and I believe very strongly that individuals should not own artifacts. Treasure hunting is the pursuit of artifacts for personal gain.
So why did I make Nix and her deirfiúr treasure hunters? I’d have loved to call them archaeologists, but nothing about their work is like archaeology. Archaeology is a very laborious, painstaking process—and it certainly doesn’t involve selling artifacts. That wouldn’t work for the fast-paced, adventurous series that I had planned for Dragon’s Gift. Not to mention the fact that dragons are famous for coveting treasure. Considering where the deirfiúr got their skills from, it just made sense to call them treasure hunters.
Even though I write urban fantasy, I strive for accuracy. The deirfiúr don’t engage in archaeological practices—therefore, I cannot call them archaeologists. I also have a duty as an archaeologist to properly represent my field and our goals—namely, to protect and share history. Treasure hunting doesn’t do this. One of the biggest battles that archaeology faces today is protecting cultural heritage from thieves.
I debated long and hard about not only what to call the heroines of this series, but also about how they would do their jobs. I wanted it to involve all the cool things we think about when we think about archaeology—namely, the Indiana Jones stuff, whether it’s real or not. But I didn’t know quite how to do that while still staying within the bounds of my own ethics. I can cut myself and other writers some slack because this is fiction, but I couldn’t go too far into smash and grab treasure hunting.
I consulted some of my archaeology colleagues to get their take, which was immensely helpful. Wayne Lusardi, the State Maritime Archaeologist for Michigan, and Douglas Inglis and Veronica Morris, both archaeologists for Interactive Heritage, were immensely helpful with ideas. My biggest problem was figuring out how to have the heroines steal artifacts from tombs and then sell them and still sleep at night. Everything I’ve just said is pretty counter to this, right?
That’s where the magic comes in. The heroines aren’t after the artifacts themselves (they put them back where they found them, if you recall)—they’re after the magic that the artifacts contain. They’re more like magic hunters than treasure hunters. That solved a big part of my problem. At least they were putting the artifacts back. Though that’s not proper archaeology, I could let it pass. At least it’s clear that they believe they shouldn’t keep the artifact or harm the site. But the SuperNerd in me said, “Well, that magic is part of the artifact’s context. It’s important to the artifact and shouldn’t be removed and sold.”