“Would you move, you worthless bag of feathers!” I put my full weight behind the shove I give my gryphon, but it’s no use.
He’s rooted. He’s staring. Strike that, he’s pining. He’s literally wiggling his feathery eyebrows… at her.
My forehead slumps against Griff’s furry shoulder.
Heather Dewslip ambles towards the green,
Young folk these days.
I squint between my window blinds. Amelia has another new beau—a tall, brooding fellow. They walk hand-in-hand down the street toward my house, chatting.
I frown. I haven’t met this one yet. Usually she brings them by for my inspection first, just to be safe.
They stop walking, and he leans down—
Miles—scarab beetle and humble photojournalist—strained to listen. He glanced at the surrounding trees, spectral colossi in the moonlight. A fallen log sat rotting, just ahead.
“I don’t hear anything.”
Calvin—atlas beetle and journalist—stood stock still. His three horns curved upward in a graceful silhouette against the dark horizon.
Kai Zimer had a useless gift. People praised his voice as angelic, but what value did Merfolk have for a male siren? The two most popular career choices for Mermen were tending the coral farms or joining the military. But since he couldn’t even keep a shellplant alive for more than a week,
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“Now, see here!” Rex glared down at the little black dog sinking its teeth into his toe. “If anyone in this family should be devouring enemies, it’s me.”
The dog craned its neck to peer at the dragon. There was a moment of blessed silence. But then… “Woof! Woof-woof! Woo-oo-oof!”
“I hate my job.” Tina scowled at the curtains that separated her from the audience. “I’d rather play bingo.”
“No, you don’t.” Tello, the stage manager, shuffled his cue cards. “And no, you wouldn’t. You hate bingo.” He tugged at her arm. “Come on, your cue’s coming any minute!”
I narrow my eyes at the porker rooting through a box of graham crackers on my kitchen floor. Today, your reign of terror comes to an end.
The potbelly pig chomps down on another package of crackers. I crouch, inching past the cupboard door that hangs lopsidedly from busted hinges, victim
Pale dawn light slanted through the windows when I arrived at the Full Moon Diner. Even this early, the place smelled like stale grease and burnt coffee.
Only four tables were occupied. An old man sitting in one corner, his face haggard. A young couple holding hands. A neat-haired man reading a thick book
“I’m going to be eaten!”
A frenzied shoulder shake jolted me from sleep. I sat up suddenly, wincing as the baby in my belly gave a swift, protesting kick. My niece, Cha-mi, stared at me with wide eyes.
“Eaten?” I sputtered. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes welled.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re gifting me?” I rolled my eyes at Amelia.
“What do you mean? It’s a good gift. It’ll keep you alive, right? So we can stay friends. I was worried being a fairy would change things, but if I’m your fairy…”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. It’s just not what I was expecting.”
“Is that a taikina?” Seana faces me, shoulders squared.
I drop the pastry, sending sliced nuts and golden berries across the silver tablecloth. “Um.”
Behind my sister, faeries and pixies continue dancing. Dust scatters off the pixies’ wings. Not fair. The pixie dust in their dishes makes faerie food taste like dirt.
Mind, there’s nothing inherently surprising about finding a drunken old man in the royal garden. I just never expected to see one eating Grandpa’s roses. Horribly undignified behavior for the most respectable house in Phrygia. I leaned over my balcony rail, fumbling through my mental lexicon for the appropriate words to address this situation.
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