“The taniwha traveled in the canoes of our Polynesian ancestors. They were kaitiaki, life-protecting guardians.” The stocky Islander gazed over the water, his slumped shoulders, usually strong, reflecting his regret. “The white settlers, on the other hand, brought the black rats in their boats. Those filthy predators extinguished almost all of our island’s endemic
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My best friend Zara is convinced she’s part genie. Seriously, I’m sitting here at her sixteenth birthday party watching her twirl around the courtyard tossing pink powder at the guests.
“Your wish is my command!” she exclaims each time she throws a handful, laughing as she spins, colorful puffs glittering around her.
“I can see it now. ‘Come to a romantic getaway to Japan’s Suicide Forest. Book now—reservations are selling like hotcakes!’” Starr held out his hands like he was gesturing to a marquee.
“Yeah, because who doesn’t want to be stabbed, bitten, or possessed again on their anniversary?” his fiancé, Annie, grumbled.
It happened one day toward evening, in the southern deserts of Arabia, that two males of the human race approached a certain oasis where I sat keeping watch.
The sun had just kissed the desert sands in the west when the two humans led their pack mule up to the spring and knelt to drink…
Namika’s tenth winter was bitter. January’s harsh winds blew into April, and she had a sickness that made her mother frown and the doctor whisper. When the first sakura buds appeared in her family’s grove, Namkia stared longingly from the window. Usually she would be helping her family prepare for hanami, the flower viewing…
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Gentle, green hills rolled before me. I raced across soft grass. Ancient white statues veiled in a delicate blanket of moss adorned the pastoral landscape. Behind me howled a wild horde of giant, chittering, angry, club-wielding prairie dogs bent on my destruction.
Eleanor Thornhail, what have you gotten yourself into now?
No matter what
I’m focused, minding my own business, quietly eating my breakfast of rice, miso soup, and grilled salmon in the dining room. It’s what I do every morning while studying my book of ancient Japanese history.
I’m so entranced that I almost miss the crackling female voice. “Why aren’t you married yet, Airi?
Mark hated mass tourism. My boyfriend was a zealous backpacker. He preferred the French word routard, because it implied roads less traveled and adventure under the soles of his hiking boots. We’d been in Indonesia ten days, traveling by bus and train, sleeping in modest guest houses, eating street food, and avoiding selfie snappers.
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A month ago, I wouldn’t have entertained the idea of staying in a foreign national park after operating hours. Now, I was following my sister down a winding trail in the sunset. “Jess! Are you sure about this?”
She didn’t break stride, simply glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Trust me, Liz.”
Very few things surprised Aoi, considering she was a witch. But she certainly hadn’t expected to be attacked by a sentient teapot when she entered her great-grandmother’s home.
Aoi huddled behind a couch as the tea caddy rolled on its own. The kettle and saucers clattered angrily on top, sloshing their boiling contents onto…
I stand anxiously near the cliff’s edge, not daring to look down.
“What a sight to see, eh son?” My father slaps me on the back. I grasp the metal railing with all my strength, my hands sweating and my knuckles turning white. He reaches up and adjusts his hearing aid. “Time to take
Netsu wiggled deeper into the ferns surrounding a momiji tree and tugged at the orange and red fabric of his haori. Maybe if he burned the fabric with his bearing gift, he wouldn’t have to go in this—What was the right word for this garish garb?
“Shiny.”
Netsu spun around, coming face-to-face with…
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