Lykaina slid the box across the desk with a gentle smile. “A gift from the marshes of Hecate.”
Mr. Collins opened the lid and inhaled deeply. His eyes drifted closed. “Fresh cranberries. Marvelous.”
“Perhaps not the bounty one would receive from Demeter…” Lyka spread her hands. “But we share what is ours.”
I lost it!
The one thing. The one responsibility I had in my care. And I lost it.
I raced down the corridor. My diamond-sharp claws dug into the floor, and my smooth, taut wings accelerated me forward. Suddenly, my shoulder slammed into a polished iron door. It swung back on its hinges
The ball of light splits the forest in two, bouncing heat and ash off the canopy all the way down into the damp undergrowth. Where bits of debris alight on a rare dry patch, the underlying fungal layer, with sodden indifference, snuffs them out in a puff of smoke. A wide flat piece,
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“Of all the things we could do on your first trip as a Nightmare Hunter, you pick this.” Coppelia Potts carefully guided her submarine through the dark waters. Huge floodlights illuminated murky depths while her brother, Wolfgang, scanned the monitors for any signs of life.
Seth, their Nightmare Hunter trainee, leaned back
We’re a ragtag team, if ever I’ve seen one. Gathered around Major’s battered table in the dimly lit bunker, there’s no less than five kinds of crazy.
Jones, the intellectual, dissecting a cicada under a magnifying glass.
Flint, the muscle; he’s too big for his shirt, probably on purpose.
Qora, the gadgets girl.
By Hailey Huntington They called me the Guardian of the Last Phoenix. In truth, I was the caretaker of the last phoenix, meaning that I basically just cleaned up after Ignis’s messes. But I loved the magical old bird, even if she had a nasty temper. Looking after phoenixes was in my blood. I think
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Dr. Byron Stoneburner made his camp on the side of the Artic mountain. He nibbled what jerky remained in his pack and warmed his frostbitten nose next to the fire, calculating his progress by the aged map in his possession. The yellowing pages had turned brittle in the frosty air, but he had memorized
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Being inconspicuous is difficult with a dragon in your pocket.
The text came while I was studying for biology, but when Kitty McDowell sends a cryptic message asking for help, am I going to say no? Of course not.
I stare up at Sterling Hall. Most of its windows are still lit,
My scalpel taps against the shapeshifter’s eggshell but doesn’t crack the surface as expected. I press harder, but the blade slides down the surface, piercing the table with a thump.
Could my researchers have grabbed something else instead of the eggs?
No, I’d seen the mother. She swiftly switched from bird, to monkey
Doug’s phone slipped from his hand and skidded down the hillside below the hiking trail. He sucked in his breath with annoyance. “Screen’s probably cracked.” It had all his contact info on it, too.
Now how am I going to get it back? Can’t make it down there myself, not with my hip
Dawson Malone prided himself on many things—his jawline and tracking abilities most of all. His crowning achievement thus far? Discovering the Merfolk after they’d been believed extinct for centuries.
So when he heard of monsters lurking deep in the Tangauryan jungle, he pounced.
“You don’t want to go in there,” the woman
Feno lowered his eyes and bowed as the massive, bearded warrior from Tablador strode past, a battle axe resting on each of his shoulders. Angry red boils covered the giant’s neck, but Feno didn’t gawk, lest he lose his head. Instead he admired the man’s crafted leather boots. They would bring a good price.
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