Something was coming. Renard raised his hand, calling for a halt. His men stopped instantly, and he cocked his head, listening for the sound of their prey.
Breaking branches and pounding hoofs in full charge approached them through the woods. A large, tusked boar nigh on five hundred pounds burst into view.
If anything merits some Courage Cordial, it’s a job interview.
I stare at the glass bottle on my shelf, one of many elixirs I’ve created. A sip won’t hurt—it’ll just give me a little confidence boost. And I’ve made hundreds of successful potions before, which is why in thirty minutes I’ll be walking under the
Yellow police tape crisscrosses the entrance to Buckbean Asylum. The plastic shines under my headlamp: fresh, unlike the torn, discarded scraps half-buried by shriveled-up oak leaves. Though the asylum closed years ago, the structure remains.
So do the spirits of the patients.
That’s the rumor, at least. I’m here to see if it’s true.
“What if I told you that you could just go home?”
Toby almost believes the words… until he remembers it’s a villain speaking them, and he shakes himself. He forces a laugh, but pain stabs through the wound in his side, and he stops laughing with a gasp.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
For Zadie, the first ninety-nine steps under the oppressive canopy of nighttime Pennsylvania woods were hard enough. The air was still and stagnant, and only thin shafts of moonlight pierced the darkness. But at the hundredth step, Zadie hesitated and took a deep breath. She had reached the point where she would have
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What human being, given the Gift of flight, would wish he had another one?
You’re looking at him. Er, reading about him.
Does that even make sense? Zoiks. I’m as clumsy with words as I am with people. And I’m clumsier with flight.
I hate heights. I hate speed. I hate the breathlessness
What’s the difference between a hero and a wimp?
I fall firmly in the latter category. I don’t sing in public. I don’t raise my hand in class.
My wimpiness wasn’t really a problem until last week. That’s when Aidan Peacebringer —beautiful Aidan, with his curly hair and goofy grin and not being
By Ronnell Kay Gibson You give one pink fairy armadillo a belly rub, and now look what’s gone an’ happened—I’ve got an army of the little buggers. The first armadillo showed up a week ago. My dog, Brewser, plum scared the bajeezers outta me when he started barking at the butt-crack of dawn. The border
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Comforting scents of spice, herbs, and fruits filled the wood-paneled room, cozy enough to distract from the cold rain—and the woeful news. Mistress Millet dipped a carved cup into the pot simmering over her fire, then shuffled over and set it in front of Ivy, who wiped away a tear she pretended
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Chomp.
Chomp.
Swallow.
Wonder at the sharpness of her new teeth. Wonder at her new teeth.
Chomp.
Swallow.
Even if she had been counting, she would have lost track long ago of the number of bites she had taken; the number of times her teeth had dulled to uselessness, only to be magically renewed
Attn: Wizard Mark Fennel
Magical Medical
Outgoing private comm records from Royal Wizard Greg Zaks
2.1.11
The headaches are back.
I know you diagnosed tension, but I’m convinced it’s something more. I can hear you saying, “They started when Flora disappeared. You have no prior history.” But they’ve lasted months.
When the Havok community writes a collaborative ad lib story (aka “HavokLibs”), new species are born. Meet Ophelia Penelope Ostentatious the Third, a troublesome pet balrog with many tentacles and the honk of a goose!
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