My best friend Zara is convinced she’s part genie. Seriously, I’m sitting here at her sixteenth birthday party watching her twirl around the courtyard tossing pink powder at the guests.
“Your wish is my command!” she exclaims each time she throws a handful, laughing as she spins, colorful puffs glittering around her.
“I can see it now. ‘Come to a romantic getaway to Japan’s Suicide Forest. Book now—reservations are selling like hotcakes!’” Starr held out his hands like he was gesturing to a marquee.
“Yeah, because who doesn’t want to be stabbed, bitten, or possessed again on their anniversary?” his fiancé, Annie, grumbled.
Puddles along the street mirrored the blue neon glow of the Chiang Mai business district. Tiny zips of lights flashed across the roadway, adding their spark to the reflective glow. Flickering lights continued to fill the street, until finally the mighty lightning bug army descended, rippling the puddles, at the rendezvous point chosen months
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Yi Ming collapsed at the rosewood table, knocking over the blue and white ceramic vase resting on it. His hands moved automatically to pick it up and straighten the blossoms within. A single message hovered in his retinal display, blocking out the ever-expanding city skyline glittering just beyond the window.
It can’t be true.
“Hikari, let’s review your statement.” I flip three pages back in my notebook. There needs to be no discrepancies in the retelling of my defendant’s story. Traveling at 220 mph, I’m aware I have little time to solve this case. The Nozomi Bullet Train takes two hours and fifteen minutes to travel from
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It happened one day toward evening, in the southern deserts of Arabia, that two males of the human race approached a certain oasis where I sat keeping watch.
The sun had just kissed the desert sands in the west when the two humans led their pack mule up to the spring and knelt to drink…
An island filled with caves, carved by fervent monks. This was the refuge to which her brother had fled.
Island of Caves, his message had said. Worshippers pass through the halls and chant. Echoes everywhere. The stonework is hard, but good. It makes my heart feel whole. At night, I crawl into my
“Time for your first elephant hunt, Ms. Chowdhury.” Inspector Patel’s gaze was fixed on the huge, disc-shaped space elevator descending the cable toward its Himalayan base. So was mine, but with more awe—this system lets us easily and regularly reach space itself!
My pulse accelerated. I tapped my case. “My equipment is ready…
The sound of sobbing cleaved the war-torn air, assailing Hephaestus’s aching and stiff joints. It wasn’t just the grief rattling him—he knew that voice. And he’d never heard her cry like this before. Pushing off his cane, he propelled himself forward, increasing the pace of his uneven limp with every step.
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Namika’s tenth winter was bitter. January’s harsh winds blew into April, and she had a sickness that made her mother frown and the doctor whisper. When the first sakura buds appeared in her family’s grove, Namkia stared longingly from the window. Usually she would be helping her family prepare for hanami, the flower viewing…
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Gentle, green hills rolled before me. I raced across soft grass. Ancient white statues veiled in a delicate blanket of moss adorned the pastoral landscape. Behind me howled a wild horde of giant, chittering, angry, club-wielding prairie dogs bent on my destruction.
Eleanor Thornhail, what have you gotten yourself into now?
No matter what
I’m focused, minding my own business, quietly eating my breakfast of rice, miso soup, and grilled salmon in the dining room. It’s what I do every morning while studying my book of ancient Japanese history.
I’m so entranced that I almost miss the crackling female voice. “Why aren’t you married yet, Airi?
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