Havok Publishing

Fantasy

A Grain to Spare

Aedus hated it when his hourglass talked. The majority of its speech was apocalyptic prophecy, and he would have given anything for it to be wrong. Just once.
Preferably now.
Stones cut through the soles of Aedus’ shoes as he sprinted down the hill, dragging a stretcher behind him.

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Leafbound

Laurva was hungry. So very hungry.
And alone.
Suffocating darkness encased her. She was completely sealed in. Instinct overruled her uncertainty, and the gloom diffused as she gnawed the walls.
Chomp. Chew. Gulp. Smack. Swallow. She emerged, surrounded by sickening sounds of others feeding.
I’m not alone. This awareness wasn’t comforting, but hunger drove her out.

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The Light Smuggler

Ral stumbled into the smoky tavern and allowed himself the indulgence of sitting next to one of the blazing torches mounted along the walls. Dangerous, perhaps, but at this point he didn’t care. He needed to get away from the presence of the Shadow.
A barmaid brought him a glass, but he didn’t drink,

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A Far-Off Place

I pretend not to notice when Sarah and Cricket disappear into the woods behind our property. Normally, I would warn her not to wander too far, but I can see it. I can see the familiar glimmer around the small wooden fence and between the trees. So, I look away. It’s not my place.

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The Hunt

Morning light filtered through the jungle mist, bedewing the dirt below and the life teeming within it. Kithoor adjusted her weight in the saddle and pressed her bare, malachite-hued legs against the sides of her mount. Snorting, the scaly, barbed monstrosity turned its crested head. He clawed the mud and bellowed.

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The Encantado

Eamon pressed his back against the stairwell’s cold cement wall, an icy chill brushing between his shoulder blades.
Of all the other spawn-filled dredge pits in Chicago, why did this particular sceallóg have to spirit Lorna away to the fae market?
Reaching inside his leather coat, he fingered the grip of the handgun

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The Sword of Jol’Sen

“Of course, it’s genuine.” I rub my sweaty palms together in a vain attempt to relieve my tension. “This is a worthy trade.”
This is the one. Surely this old farmer will deliver me from my burden.
“Burden, am I?”
Orc fumes! Not a moment’s peace.
“This isn’t a jolly jaunt for me either, Master.”

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Dig

Daddy closed me in, just as he had my sister last year. She hadn’t returned.
He wiped his tear away. “I’m praying I see you again.”
I tried to hold the door open. “Don’t make me go!”
He half held my shoulder, half pushed me forward. “You know our way, Brianna.

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Nessie

“Don’t you want to solve the mystery?” My friend Tina had a travel bag thrown over one shoulder.
“No,” I replied, laying my long neck back down and relaxing in my bed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Humans are a myth.” We had stories, sure, but they were just that—stories.
“I’m gonna find them.”

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The Last Gateway

I haven’t found the right universe yet.
“What do you think?” Cleo’s feet squish into the swampy ground with each step.
I peer through the tiny tear in the fabric of our universe. On the other side is a different world––blanketed in reddish stone with deep canyons and majestic mountains.
“Well?” Cleo demands.

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Foodpocalypse

The monstrous leviathan rises from the depths, swimming across the bay toward Super Awesome City. I grin. At last, the battle where I prove myself has come. Every shortsighted inventor who dismissed my ideas, every teacher who gave me detention for starting food fights in class—they will all look upon me as their savior.
“Load the pineapults!” I bark.

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New Year’s Day at Phael-Ut

“Where is he?”
“In the well.”
Lark and his wife, Shera, step out of their hovel and into the blistering sun. He places his hand on her shoulder.
“He’ll be safe there,” Lark whispers as they make their way toward the crowd gathering on the outskirts of their village. Just beyond, a massive skyship hovers

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