Olivia held a test tube up to the gray sky. Diffused light filtered through the greenish water. Please, let today be the day. She propped the glass against a rock and dug out a pack of litmus strips. “Maybe once the silt settles—”
“Probably not.” Mari’s hazmat suit crinkled as she walked past.
You okay? Eli’s voice tickled Iris’s mind.
She rubbed the itchy spot behind her ear where the purple telepachip had been inserted. Just nervous. About the dive, about this new telepathic technology…
He chuckled. Aren’t you a pilot?
She glanced out the plane window at the clear lilac-blue sky. Somewhere, thousands of feet
Havok Story Podcast, Episode 32: “Dragon’s Spite” By Edward Sand
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Alvina Hutcherton lifted her nose to the sky, spread her fragile, black wings, and reveled in the crisp, night air. She hadn’t been able to fly in years. Old age was a downer, even for a bat. But every night, Nurse Shelly would put on her black sunhat, perch Alvina on top of it,
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Royal walked through the granite street of Beryl City thinking of how he would kill his father. Elegant buildings towered on each side of the wide road, testaments of just how full of life this city was compared to the middle-of-nowhere hole he grew up in. Every few houses, his father’s flag flew,
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Aham drew a deep breath, anxious anticipation swirling through him like dust kicked up across the Sancen Desert.
It’s a race, like any other.
Hasi rested her scaled snout on Aham’s shoulder, as if she sensed his anxiety. The reptile stood twice his height and her girth rivaled a wagon’s. Glorious creatures, cardants
No flower could ever be prettier than Ederra. She stands underneath a kukka tree, rimmed by violet blossoms.
Stop staring, Zoran.
Hands sweating, I eye the buffet spread on the reception table. A plate of berry-topped taikinas makes my mouth water, but I’d rather not deal with cheek swelling and mouth burning today.
“Your blood is purple.” I stared ahead, absolutely dumbfounded. “Your blood is purple,” I said again. I was going well over eighty miles per hour, and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even see the road ahead.
“Shut up and drive!”
Somehow, I got us onto a highway. Draiyan directed me to a bridge
There are two rooms we don’t talk about.
One’s the scullery. No need to talk about it—we live there.
The other’s Miss Mary’s room.
Master Falwell keeps the door locked. Wears the key ’round his neck. Never speaks about the daughter he loved and lost, the wispy girl on the brink of womanhood
Boom!
Christopher jumped up, knocking their board game off the kitchen table. He turned toward his sister, Paisley. “What was that?”
She shrugged. “Sounded like it came from outside.”
Rushing to the window, Christopher tore back the curtain of their third-story apartment and stepped onto the balcony. The view made him gasp.
Nova curled her legs up and tucked her toes underneath her nightgown. Damp tears rolled down her face as she sat on her bed in the dark. The curtains were drawn, and the mirror was covered up, as always, but even that couldn’t blot out the reminder of her differentness, especially after today’s
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All Remy wanted to do was hurl the cobbler at Lord Filch’s smug face. Instead, she gave him her brightest smile and a big slice.
“Delcio cobbler, sire.” She stepped back to join the other servant, an older woman named Kyanne, at the tapestried wall of the dining room. “Made with fresh fruit
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