They said the Fairy Tale King had gone mad.
The courtiers, led by King Ludwig’s Uncle Luitpold, didn’t bother to contain their disgust anymore. They sneered when Ludwig passed, mocked him and his ideas. They whispered that his grandest creation, Neuschwanstein Castle, was nothing more than a showcase for his lunacy.
The thumb drive is in my coat pocket, slapping my leg with every step as I weave through the hypogeum. The Colosseum’s floodlights illuminate the broken walls from above while small lights along the ground light up the path. Blood seeps from my shoulder and trickles down my arm, dripping from my fingers and…
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I may look like the average Weimaraner, but I play a mean violin. I pick the strings, Scratch strums her zither, and Blizzard keeps time with his hooves. The sun sets on the horizon. Our animal band wraps up another day of jamming together in our overgrown, dilapidated cottage.
I sniff and…
SUBJECT: ARTHUR PENDRAGON
STATUS: ACTIVE
[INITIATING RELEASE]
…
Pale light pierces the darkness, tearing me from slumber. Every fiber in my body ignites with freezing fire.
Coughing, I wake with my face in the dirt, cold and damp beneath me as I struggle to lift my head. The light fades and I’m left…
Ty watched his wife pause beneath the ferns, face tilted toward the leafy canopy above. After taking a selfie in front of Blarney Castle, Beth had been more interested in exploring the surrounding gardens than standing in line to kiss the Blarney Stone. After all, who knew how many people had kissed that rock?
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I shuddered as a troll’s roar filled the air. Ocean spray slicked the deck, causing me to slip. I ducked under the swinging fist of another troll, barely visible in the night. My heart drummed against my chest.
We were dead men.
Three hulking trolls surrounded our ship, gripping the masts and…
Miss Perdita Danville crept along the moonlit heath, trailing the large, fluffy cow that guided her, its rope clenched in her fist. A bag of dead mice dangled from her belt. With a sword buckled at her waist and her pocket mirror safe in her travelling coat pocket, she was more than suitably armed
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AMSTERDAM 1857
Ash impersonated the falling of snow as night wrapped its overbearing arms around Amsterdam. This shouldn’t have been happening.
Flowers should have been blooming. Tourists, strolling the marketplace. Festivals, lighting up the city. But none of that was happening.
All because I’d opened that music box.
And now, I had to close
Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling-a-ling.
Sofie scowled, set down the new display plaque, and rubbed her ears. This was the seventh night in a row now, and she couldn’t focus with the strange, inconsistent ringing. Some quiet would be nice. She glared at the various bells arranged on display blocks or hanging from black ribbons.
“Hold on—we’re crashing!” the bigfoot bellowed as he pulled back on the aircraft’s controls.
I tucked my wings against my body and gripped the armrests. Squatch was not our regular pilot, and it showed.
Again I wished that Gob and Flats hadn’t had to deal with the Werewolf Plague of 1346.
Terrific. They spotted me.
Rebecca floored the accelerator as the car in front of her rounded a corner. Fortunately, most of Athens’ boulevards stretched straight a considerable distance, allowing her to race forward. And at one a.m., she didn’t have to contend with traffic.
Rebecca’s electric-blue Ford Puma jumped to one-hundred-twenty kilometers per hour.
I flapped my wings, soaring into the clouds. The sun felt glorious warming my scales. Mountains spread below, among them the labyrinthian castle complex of the Infinite Library. Broad skylights glowed in the sunlight.
Suddenly I was inside, still in dragon form. I tried to sort a stack of books, but I kept clawing…
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