Verdant rivers of life rushed from the mountaintop beneath Sayara, flowing around her. The currents carried her mind deeper until she touched a faint presence—a spark fighting for its life.
The familiar clicking of wood on stone disrupted her focus. She searched for the presence again—but nothing. What was it doing inside the mountain?
Read it now
Ávila de la Mora peered between the trees of Inverness Wood with a pigeon perched on her shoulder. “You’re sure this is the best entrance, Atlas?”
Yes, the pigeon cooed across their bond. The trinket is not far from here.
As soon as she crossed into the wood full of magical creatures and artifacts,
The blessed coffee cup is almost to my lips when the call comes.
“Linda, 10-91a. Fifth and Columbus.”
Carla. She’s one of the few cops open-minded enough to take me and my work seriously. 10-91a is the code for “stray animal.” In my case, though, it means something different. Carla leaves her mic on
“Are you sure about this?” My stomach turned as I played with the sleeves of my sweater, worrying a few loose threads between my fingertips.
Eastwood paced across the cramped room where we’d been locked away. “We’re in a bit of a pickle here, Rose. I don’t see any other way.
Read it now
I wake to vertical metal bars rising like walls all around me and a thick chain acting like a piece of jewelry around my neck.
I am right where I am supposed to be.
As I rise on all fours and stretch out my back, I can barely move a few inches
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—
A whinny echoed across the hills and drifted through Sonora’s window. The sound settled around her, giving her goose bumps as she huddled deeper under her blankets.
With each wheezing breath, the bones rattled within her chest as she pushed herself up in bed on shaking arms and glanced out the cottage’s window.
“I really hope this artifact is worth all the hassle,” I remarked to my partner, Alma, as we climbed over a caved-in wall. “This maze of ruins is going to drive me crazy.”
“Oh, stop complaining. We’re getting close.”
“How can you tell? This place is so poorly designed.”
At that instant, the floor fell out,
Nobody likes ghost hugs.
This has thus far been the biggest disappointment of my afterlife. Yes, there’s the whole being tied to the dark, dank, dismal cave where I’d met my untimely demise, but—nah, it’s mostly the hugging. Or lack thereof.
I was quite the hugger before I died.
I revved my motor and slipped out of park, checking the glowing digits of the clock on my nightstand. 2:59 a.m. I’d woken just in time. It’s tough to be a crime-solving teenage car. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a little sleep.
But I had a mystery to solve.
The iksomi opens his mouth, and his cry pierces the thick, morning air. All gloom and pain strips away. The noise is rigid like a lyre string, warm like honey, and I let it fill my being.
His mouth snaps shut, pointed teeth curving over black lips. He stretches, arching his back
“How does one communicate with a sea spirit?”
High-pitched shrieks continued to reverberate throughout the vessel as I dropped the question on the engineer. My crew and I stood with plugs in our ears, but our methods to keep ourselves sane were failing.
“You’re asking me, an acoustical engineer, if I know how to talk to an invisible force
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