Hey, there! I hope you enjoyed reading Magic Undying as much as I enjoyed writing it. In addition to being a writer, I’m also an archaeologist. This influences my books enormously and is why so many of them have scenes set at historic sites. I try to stay as true to history as I can, but sometimes I have to fiddle with things to make a more entertaining story. If you’re interested in reading about what I borrowed from history and what I modified, read on. At the end, I’ll talk a bit about why Del 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).

Magic Undying is particularly full of history and myth, even for one of my books. I chose to go with a Guinevere, Merlin, and King Arthur theme after talking to my friend Melly about Tintagel Castle. I visited a few years ago and loved it, but I missed Merlin’s Cave, which Melly highly recommended. When it came time to send Del to a cool location, Tintagel Castle and Merlin’s Cave popped right to mind. Which, of course, led me down the path to the myths surrounding King Arthur.

As I mentioned in the book, there are many stories surrounding King Arthur and his compatriots. According to British folklore, he was a hero who may have defended Britain against Saxon invasion in the late fifth and early sixth centuries AD, though historians still aren’t sure if he was real.

For Magic Undying, I created a Frankenstein of Arthurian legend, taking the different stories and sticking them together to create a mystery for Del and Roarke to solve. Tintagel Castle, Glastonbury Abbey, and Richmond Castle were not from the same stories or even the same cultures. Arthur is associated with Tintagel Castle through Geoffrey of Monmouth’s twelfth century book, Historia Regum Britanniae. According to Geoffrey, Arthur was conceived at Tintagel. Merlin’s Cave is a real place beneath Tintagel, but it wasn’t made famous until the nineteenth century, when Alfred Tennyson wrote the twelve narrative poems Idylls of the King. In this version of events, Arthur was washed ashore at Merlin’s Cave as a baby and carried to safety by Merlin.

Glastonbury Abbey became associated with the story of Arthur and Guinevere in the twelfth century, likely as a publicity stunt to draw more pilgrims to the abbey, which had burned in 1184. According to historian Gerald of Wales (b. 1146 — d. 1223 AD), the abbot of Glastonbury Abbey, Henry de Sully, commissioned a search beneath the abbey in the 1190s. The search discovered two skeletons lying beneath a cross that was inscribed with Hic jacet sepultus inclitus rex Arthurus in insula Avalonia, which translate to “Here lies interred the famous King Arthur on the Isle of Avalon.” Modern historians have determined that this was a hoax meant to draw pilgrims to the abbey, which I think is fascinating in itself.

Richmond Castle, the location of the final quest, is an eleventh century Norman castle. According to legend, Arthur lies asleep beneath the castle, along with his knights, waiting to rise and defend England in its hour of need. Unfortunately, the only sources that I can find for this legend are several sites on the internet. I believe this is because these are primarily oral traditions that have moved to the internet, as is natural, but it’s not nearly as impressive as being able to say that Geoffrey of Monmouth wrote the legend down in the twelfth century.

Some of my research comes from primary sources like Geoffrey of Monmouth, some comes from travel, and the rest comes from Googling things while sitting on my couch. There can always be an element of error, particularly with Google, but that’s not going to stop me from using something if it will improve the story. At least I’ll ‘fess up if I do it, though.

I chose to use Richmond Castle for a few reasons. One, it’s an impressive structure that makes a great final setting. Castles have all kinds of excellent things for an epic fight scene—dungeons, murder holes (that’s really what they’re called!), giants walls, and secret passages. I had to add a few extra rooms and buildings, but the massive wall, courtyard, and great keep are accurate.

Cadbury Castle in Somerset is also said to be a resting place for Arthur, from which he will rise to defend England, and the location is actually a bit better because it is closer to Tintagel. However, Cadbury Castle is an Iron Age hillfort. While hillforts are impressive (and actually more contemporaneous with Arthur than the Norman Richmond Castle), they lack the massive stone castle-like structure that I was looking for as a final setting. So I ditched Cadbury Castle and went with Richmond Castle, even though it was built a few hundred years after Arthur’s death.

I chose Richmond Castle for a couple other reasons as well. According to local legend (according to the internet), there is supposed to be a secret tunnel between Easby Abbey and Arthur’s tomb. Easby Abbey is actually located outside of the castle walls. I wanted to send Del down that tunnel (because how cool is that?), but I couldn’t make her leave the castle and hike a few miles downriver just to get to the tunnel entrance. So I moved the tunnel entrance into the castle and called the abbey “the east abbey.”

Potter Thompson, the ghost who directed Del to the tunnel entrance, is a figure from legend as well. It is said that he found a tunnel entrance into King Arthur’s tomb while out walking. He made it all the way to the tomb where he found the sleeping king and his knights in full armor. On a table, he spied Excalibur and a horn. To prove that he had found the tomb, he decided to take Excalibur (bad idea, right?). Upon touching the sword, the king and the knights began to move. Frightened, Potter Thompson ditched the sword and ran for it. Upon exiting the tunnel, he heard a voice say:

“Potter Thompson, Potter Thompson

If Thou hadst either drawn

The sword, or blown the horn,

Thou wouldst have been the luckiest man

That ever yet was born”

Potter Thompson tried to relocate the tunnel, but could never find it. So I brought him back to life as a ghost and had him assist Del.

It was particularly egregious of me to combine two Arthurian legends. Pictish stones would not have contained a carving of a Norman castle (Richmond Castle). Pictish stones were created between the sixth and ninth centuries AD by the Picts who lived in eastern and northern Scotland. Richmond Castle was built in the eleventh century and is located over 200 miles away in England. So why did I include Pictish stones?

When I first started researching Arthurian legend, I would not have expected to find anything Pictish. However, there is a Pictish standing stone called Meigle 2, which once stood at the entrance to the Meigle Churchyard in central Scotland, just outside of Perth. Carved into it is a figure surrounded by four beasts. It could be a picture of Daniel surrounded by lions (which is honestly the most likely case), but some interpretations say that it shows the execution of Vanora. Vanora is another name for Guinevere. It’s actually a really vile story in which Guinevere is torn apart by wild dogs, so I won’t share it here, but it is the reason that I chose to use Pictish stones as the clue that led Del to the Norman castle.

As for Guinevere taking her fate into her own hands, I made that up entirely. You could probably tell because it involved a concealment charm, which are not real as far as I know. I did it for the reasons that Dr. Garriso stated in the books. I didn’t like how she was treated in the older stories (particularly the Pictish one with the dogs—yikes). Women, particularly noble women, were often pawns in history, and Guinevere was no exception. Sure, she shouldn’t have cheated on Arthur (if you’re going to go with that version of events), but this wasn’t exactly a time when a woman could say, “Hey, husband. We’ve grown apart. We should consider a separation.” And that’s the least of what Guinevere had to deal with. I’m not very familiar with modern stories, which may be better, but the old ones made me want to put Guinevere in control of her own fate. It was one of my favorite parts of the book. In fact, the final scene, with Del, Nix, and Cass sitting by her grave, was my absolutely favorite scene in the book.

That’s it for the historical influences in Magic Undying. However, one of the most important things about this book is how Del 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 Del and her deirfiúr treasure hunters? I’d have loved to call them archaeologists, but nothing about Cass’s 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 puts 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.”

Now that was a problem. I couldn’t escape my SuperNerd self, so I was in a real conundrum. Fortunately, that’s where the immensely intelligent Wayne Lusardi came in. He suggested that the magic could have an expiration date. If the magic wasn’t used before it decayed, it could cause huge problems. Think explosions and tornado spells run amok. It could ruin the entire site, not to mention possibly cause injury and death. That would be very bad.

So now you see why Del and her deirfiúr don’t just steal artifacts to sell them. Not only is selling the magic cooler, it’s also better from an ethical standpoint, especially if the magic was going to cause problems in the long run. These aren’t perfect solutions—the perfect solution would be sending in a team of archaeologists to carefully record the site and remove the dangerous magic—but that wouldn’t be a very fun book.

Thanks again for reading (especially if you got this far in my ramblings). I hope you enjoyed the story and will stick with Del on the rest of her adventure!