Kabr slithered across the bloodstained cobblestones, eyeing the shadows bordering the backstreet of Veerion. The sharp twang of fresh death flared through his nostrils, stoking the fire in his chest. Beneath the foul stench, Merna’s perfume of old pages and secrets still lingered, even hours after her body
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I first suspected she had a demon when I was twelve. I’m thirteen now, but when I was twelve, our dog Barkley started acting funny around her. At first, he followed her around everywhere—even the bathroom—instead of napping all the time on Mom’s bed.
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Sand flooded back into the hole Suresh was trying to dig. Cursing, he blocked the flow with his shovel. At this rate, it would take him a lifetime to locate Abiral’s Goblet.
Sweat stinging his eyes, he gazed around the dunes of Dryagana Mrtyu: Dragon’s Death. No movement, and most importantly, no sand dragons.
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“If we don’t pull over right now, I’m going to release the floodgates all over your car,” Gavin growled. He knocked the panel of the car door with the edge of his fist. “And I mean right now!”
I pulled over to the shoulder, next to a field filled with row upon row
Halfway up the drive of his sprawling estate, Master Oros encountered the first silver statues. Sunlight slid over them in a soft yellow hue, matching the shimmering, golden tips of his own fingers.
The front gate guards stood motionless, bent over, hands clasped to their knees
Aster leaned into the cold stone sill and gazed out the window. The night sky was brushed with the haze of winter clouds, shrouding the stars to a ghostly hue and cloaking the evening star. No moon swam behind them. In the pale light, Aster could see the orchard
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Yousef’s vision went black as he returned to the delivery skimmer.
“What the frag?” This wasn’t like his prior blackouts. He was fully conscious, but blind. His grasping fingers found the cold mesh shrouding the skimmer’s rear thrust fan. From there, he followed the vehicle’s smooth side forward to the lockpad.
Mercedes held her breath as the airship landed, its solar sails radiating energy. A gangway lowered toward a long line of eager passengers with tickets in hand.
First: board the airship.
She exhaled a slow breath. It had to be this airship, heading for the district housing the prestigious Leric Institute.
Molly checked both ways before she skittered across the street. Jack kept pace on her right, his hand a warm support on her lower back. Within minutes, the two had traversed several smaller avenues and alleyways, burrowing deeper into the unsavory part of town.
Molly stumbled as her vision wavered, split between two worlds,
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The Colt revolver’s song echoed through the barren terrain as gun smoke mixed with heavy snowfall. Marshal Roland Chadwick holstered his firearm, grimaced, and spat, watching bloody saliva crystalize and disappear into the white earth. The image reminded him of a disfigured candy cane. After all, it was Christmas Eve.
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He smelled of cinnamon raisin bread, fresh out of the oven on a crisp autumn afternoon at Grandma’s place. And I hated it. I mean, forget about being a covert secret agent. How was I supposed to concentrate on undermining a criminal mastermind when my own agent partner—and brother—smelled like
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Death crept through the car park. Roddy rushed to the window, meeting his reflection in the pane.
Sunset.
To the naked eye, all was as it should be outside the intensive care unit. Doctors, orderlies, and visitors went about their business with no particular urgency. Roddy, however, knew different.
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