“Agent Therrus, are you insinuating your cover has been compromised?”
I opened my mouth but swiftly shut it again. Is that what I’m trying to say?
The hologram of my Earthan Initiative contact lifted an impatient brow. Intergalactic calls were tricky as well as costly. When initiated, it was better to keep them “short and sweet” as humans said.
The wooden attic floorboards cradled the dying body of Mr. Evergreen.
“What happened, sir?” I set down my candle and wicker basket, palms sweating. Long shadows raced across the floorboards, the light illuminating a knife. The smell of moth balls and old cedar flooded my senses as I knelt. This was not an accident.
Dorius swaggered into the arena as the crowd roared.
The Praeco shouted, “The fourth gladiator in this final combat of our games is the Emperor’s champion! Visiting us in Hispania from distant Rome, victor of sixty battles against men and beasts, I give you Dorius Gratius!”
Dorius raised his short sword in salute.
Dorian staggered as he dropped unceremoniously from the portal. With one hand, he clutched at the strap of the leather portrait tube slung on his back, ensuring that its precious cargo survived the trip. With his other, he gripped the scroll containing the spell that brought him to this place.
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The museum director faced the crowd. “Everyone, raise a glass for this evening’s brilliant artist. To Helen!”
“Helen!” Voices thundered in unison as afficionados lifted their wine goblets, then sipped the crimson nectar.
Helen drank in the praise, her gaze focused on the lone glass that remained lifted. The vessel lowered, revealing the frank blue eyes of its beholder.
At first, Dorian Gray found it intoxicating, being the eternally youthful, dashingly handsome hockey star. Fans mobbed him after games, eager for his autograph.
Competitors who slammed him into the boards, only to see him jump up unscathed, didn’t understand how he did it.
Harmony often found her name ironic.
Peaceful moments spent strumming her ukelele or holding a fluffy, sleeping animal formed only a fraction of her days. The rest was a hodge-podge of chaotic attempts to keep up with her ever-forgotten to-do list, budget for food and rent, and chase down magical varmints that would rather
Eric pushed through the underbrush, cursing the strange echo effect in the valley. He could hear the faint strains of the ukulele, but locating the sound was nearly impossible. “I’m probably going in circles,” he groused.
As he stepped over a spindly creek, a large shadow blocked out the filtered sunlight.
They said when the lights grow bright in the north sky, the great wolves are on the hunt. Tonight, the Naka were only a faint stroke of green across the blackness above. I watched them, the cold breeze a welcome relief from the stuffy dugout I’d been sheltered in. I hummed my song softly
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“Enjoy your familiar!” Harmony smiled and waved goodbye to her latest customer. The gap-toothed girl grinned and waved back, towing a harried-looking cockatrice behind her.
They sure start mage school young these days.
Harmony put her hands on her hips and turned to her own familiar, an orange tabby perched on the store counter.
“Late! You’re late!” Dr. Rawlings bellowed at the brass section. Those magnificently large ears missed nothing. “I went to school for many years to become this brilliant—play faster!” He rubbed a hand through his poof of white hair and called out, “Rehearsal letter M!” while flipping pages in his score.
Most music professors
“Alice, dear… you really are too much for the real world to handle.” The Red Queen’s smile flickered to life in the darkness, much like the Cheshire Cat’s. She emerged from behind a gnarled Tumtum tree with a scarlet lantern held aloft. The fairy inside chittered angrily as it thrashed at the bars, and
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