For young Margery Jones, The Candy Shoppe was more than a store to buy sweets. It was a place of opportunity.
When she walked through the gilded doors, sugar and color assailed her senses. Rows of
rainbow lollipops, orange taffy, grass green gumdrops, and striped pickleberries lined the shelves. Tiny planes zipped
Hanu flattened the parchment on the grass and reviewed his handwritten spell for the final time. Proper exit condition for the main loop? Check. Clearly defined energy conversions? Check. Timeout in case of emergency? Of course.
“This is it,” he said.
The maple trees surrounding the clearing rustled in response. Birds above exchanged
Gray sky. Gray walls. Black iron gate.
“Do your magic, girl!” Shouts harsh as gravel. “Stop holding back. We know you can do it!”
Dirt brown boot, crunching into her side. Dung-colored ground.
Whimpering, Alia pressed into the corner. One of her captors seized her by the hair and dragged her forward…
Eerie caterwauling split the air, making Aisha’s skin prickle and her bones melt. The ghost cat.
She eyed the swaying brush, lit silver by the moonlight. Dark bloodstains lingered on the dry stalks. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her useless knife.
“Zawadi?” The shrieking nearly swallowed her quavering voice. “Is that you?”
The portal closed with a whumph and the smell of old books. I’d teleported myself deep beneath the massive castle complex of the Infinite Library, chasing rumors of ancient, forgotten books.
Dangerous books.
I hadn’t been expecting carpet.
I Imparted will into a small light sphere made of bronze. It floated at eye-level
I sat stooped at the edge of the castle fountain, waiting patiently to die. The hum of humanity inundated me. It filled the outer bailey—travelers swapping rumors, merchants shooing children from their tents. I was surrounded by people, yet alone. I had no offspring, no kin, not a soul who knew my name.
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Being one of the Seven Deadly Sins wasn’t supposed to be easy, but Pride thought it would be a heck of a lot simpler than this.
It started when his sister, Envy, bet that she could find one person he couldn’t taint. Seemed like a straightforward win, considering most humans were corruptible beasts.
Until Cresella.
“Trish, that’s amazing,” my best friend cooed as I drizzled the final icing whisker over the last ginger cat cookie. “You’ll win the scholarship tomorrow for sure!”
Still clutching the blue-handled frosting knife, I swiped the back of my arm across my forehead. “I wish I had your confidence, Bri.”
“Come on, girl,”
With a final cry, I swept the ogre’s foul head off his body and sidestepped as he crashed to the ground beside his two brethren. Before the dust settled, I bounded up the hill to their lair, whence black smoked billowed. They kept their ill-gotten treasures within—and their captives, who cried piteously
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Rule 44: Dragons are not heroes—do not act like one.
It’s one of the many rules I, Orpheus, abide by. One of 345, to be exact. Though please don’t ask me to recite them all—I simply haven’t the time. Cave dwelling involves much slumbering and polishing of scales.
But I’ll tell you a few.
Never make a deal with a fae lord.
The old adage ran through my head as I approached the house of Lord Faron Beaugard—High Lord of the Forest Realm. The glamor—a façade—of the house rolled toward me in unending waves, but I wasn’t foolish enough to be sucked in. I scanned the sprawling mansion,
The portal closed with a whumpf and the briny scent of the sea. And maybe a hint of giant sea turtle. I gazed up at the heights of the mossy stone castle. A few cold stars shone above like chips of diamond.
Once inside, the halls were dark. Good. I didn’t want to
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