At first glance, it looked like just another broken branch—one of many in the forest canopy due to the previous day’s windstorm. However, Phezz noticed it twitching within a tangle of vines in the fork of an ash tree. The Xintixa’s eyes widened. That’s no branch. Too round, too smooth, and there’s straw
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Shut up, he told himself, albeit to no avail.
Zaivar slouched into his favorite diner booth, trying to keep his thoughts muted. This was an unwelcome challenge for someone used to reading other people’s minds. The waitress approached, and before he even registered it was happening, he thought, Her perfume is like being punched
I fell to my knees and stared at the hard tile beneath me. The man behind me released my wrists, and my arms dropped to my sides.
“Thank you for finding her, Zaivar,” a low voice said in front of me.
I glanced at the ticking wall clock. 1:16 a.m. It took him only
Zaivar Witz studied the mist dealer behind the counter, wondering if the wizened man could actually help him find a new disguise. Harvesting and selling mist from the kingdom’s shrouded mountains required an unmatched madness. But Zai never cared for convention—if it helped him track down his warrants, why question it?
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The Ghost, an infamous young thief recently turned pirate, walked through the bustling cacophony of Cog’s Meridian on market day.
Polite society knew her by a different name, but she was far from polite society today. Far from expectations and inopportune fiancés.
Beside her, Captain Gearlock kept watch on their surroundings with his clockwork
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