“Of course, it’s genuine.” I rub my sweaty palms together in a vain attempt to relieve my tension. “This is a worthy trade.”
This is the one. Surely this old farmer will deliver me from my burden.
“Burden, am I?”
Orc fumes! Not a moment’s peace.
“This isn’t a jolly jaunt for me either, Master.”
“Now, Vanguards, go forth!”
That was the last human voice Vincent had heard. Well, other than his own; he’d been talking to himself for a few days. Or… weeks? He wasn’t sure. the twin suns of Vita Centauri muddled his sense of time.
“If only the others were here.” He shook his head
Daddy closed me in, just as he had my sister last year. She hadn’t returned.
He wiped his tear away. “I’m praying I see you again.”
I tried to hold the door open. “Don’t make me go!”
He half held my shoulder, half pushed me forward. “You know our way, Brianna.
With the upcoming release of our Season Two: Stories That Sing anthology, we wanted to take a moment to introduce the fabulous Featured Authors we have lined up for the anthology. It is our privilege to have multi-published, award-winning Jill Williamson in our line up. Jill has written everything from epic fantasy to middle-grade science
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“Don’t you want to solve the mystery?” My friend Tina had a travel bag thrown over one shoulder.
“No,” I replied, laying my long neck back down and relaxing in my bed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Humans are a myth.” We had stories, sure, but they were just that—stories.
“I’m gonna find them.”
I haven’t found the right universe yet.
“What do you think?” Cleo’s feet squish into the swampy ground with each step.
I peer through the tiny tear in the fabric of our universe. On the other side is a different world––blanketed in reddish stone with deep canyons and majestic mountains.
“Well?” Cleo demands.
Azar pulled her Harley out of the haze of rush-hour traffic into an unused parking lot and scanned the expanse of asphalt and concrete. Not a blade of grass broke the gray monotony. No flicker of the royal soldiers’ red-edged, black scales.
She parked beside a concrete slope supporting a busier access street,
The monstrous leviathan rises from the depths, swimming across the bay toward Super Awesome City. I grin. At last, the battle where I prove myself has come. Every shortsighted inventor who dismissed my ideas, every teacher who gave me detention for starting food fights in class—they will all look upon me as their savior.
“Load the pineapults!” I bark.
Today was my birthday, which meant waking up early to lock my windows and doors. I’d already powered down Ynette, and my cell-glasses rested on the charger. The lenses flashed red, green, then yellow—voice mails, text messages and vid chats.
Oh my. The birthday wishes were starting early.
By Carlos Candela Terry I wake facedown on the cool titanium floor, my vision blurred and my mind shrouded in fog. My jaw cracks with stiffness. Iaclite’s fiery, blue light shines through the portside window and bathes dust particles in a teal hue; they hover like a swarm of lifeless fireflies. I struggle to my
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“It looks like Earth.” Captain Kilian maneuvered the pod through the atmosphere, eyes bouncing from the control panel to the green surface of the planet that had yet to be named.
Alice’s stomach churned with a combination of excitement and dread. “Except the forest is glowing.” For a moment, excitement won out,
“Where is he?”
“In the well.”
Lark and his wife, Shera, step out of their hovel and into the blistering sun. He places his hand on her shoulder.
“He’ll be safe there,” Lark whispers as they make their way toward the crowd gathering on the outskirts of their village. Just beyond, a massive skyship hovers
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