The troops whispered the name amongst themselves: the legend, the lore.
The Phoenix.
A creature of orange, red, and yellow plumage, the bird on fire, the power that never died.
They said that it moved from one world to the next. Once the power enshrouded in its earthly vessel had evaporated in one
The crier held out the letter Clip had waited two years for. An orange bow wrapped around the envelope’s crinkled and weathered form.
The mass of townspeople bustled around her. No one stopped to ask about the soldier who had just been announced dead. No one spared a glance.
“Do you ever pay attention?”
Splashing and laughter drifted to Veya from the hot springs. She peeked over the clump of sunbaked rocks to where her sister Vasilisa treaded water with her two attendants, chatting about the Fox Clan’s latest marriages and births.
Two of the things denied to Veya because she was Peltless.
Vasilisa glanced up.
“Coppelia Potts, Nightmare Hunter.” Coppelia extended her business card, which proudly proclaimed her name and profession. “You called about a little… pumpkin infestation?”
The farmer’s daughter examined the card and nodded.
“I’m Abby. Where’s your brother? Shouldn’t he be here?”
“Wolfgang’s sick, so I’m going solo today.” Coppelia pulled her bright orange hair
“Well, Gram, here’s to you.”
Kevin popped the cap off a bottle of beer and tilted the first sip of pleasantly bitter brew onto his tongue. Gram had never cared for alcohol much. That was probably Gramp’s fault—too many bad memories—but Kevin’s after-dinner beer tended to accompany reflection.
And tonight was
The colossal purple dragon’s scraping snores pierced Eileen’s ears. She froze at the entrance of the cave, her every muscle screaming for her to run.
She took a deep breath, increasing her grip on her deerskin satchel. I can’t stop now; Lottie is depending on me.
Slowly, Eileen entered the dark, humid cave,
Royal walked through the granite street of Beryl City thinking of how he would kill his father. Elegant buildings towered on each side of the wide road, testaments of just how full of life this city was compared to the middle-of-nowhere hole he grew up in. Every few houses, his father’s flag flew,
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Nova curled her legs up and tucked her toes underneath her nightgown. Damp tears rolled down her face as she sat on her bed in the dark. The curtains were drawn, and the mirror was covered up, as always, but even that couldn’t blot out the reminder of her differentness, especially after today’s
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The wishing tree stood right where Ella had said it would. Ryn stumbled through the graveyard, stopping before a small white headstone. Behind it, a tall, slender tree stood, its dark green leaves veined in gold. Doves cooed in its branches, nestled close to one another as they slept.
It won’t grant every wish,
“Come now. You cannot be serious.”
“Oh, but I am. Your colleagues speak most highly of your collection, professor. I’m certain that a few quotes and some pictures would do wonders for my book.”
The old man eyed his visitor. She was pretty and young, with a hint of some exotic heritage
I stared at the ax on the table in front of me. Its clean blade gleamed like onyx, the jewel-like embellishments on its worn handle as twisted as my thoughts. Using it made me sick.
The only thing keeping my sanity intact was knowing that the queen’s power, not mine, was what drove
She will not listen to you. The sea witch’s warning rings in my mind as I ride a wave up to the ship floating like an empty snail shell. They’ve dropped anchor, and the royal vessel crests wave after gentle wave. Ornate sconces cast a warm, cheery glow across the bright blue streamers
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