I look like a peacock in a lion’s den. My gaudy green robes swish across the smooth marble as I eye the four armored guards escorting us. We enter the throne room. I step behind Zofan, my mentor and fellow wizard, and twiddle my fingers.
The guards clomp to either side of King Roganvel’s
Golden eyes arrested my attention as I boarded the train. Her every movement was grace-ful—gray paws swinging her suitcase, ears peeking through the top of her hat, eyes sparkling in the waning sunlight.
Then she tripped. And laughed to herself.
“Miss,” I called out as the whistle tweeted and the train whisked me
Surrounded by shouting hagglers, I sweep my eyes over the market as we step into an abandoned tent. Back turned to the crowd, I rummage in my pack for the scroll. Passersby will only see a traveling swordsman and his student counting their coins before visiting the blacksmith’s booth.
“You’re my best student. Like
I don’t like Dycin.
It’s not the guide’s superior attitude that makes me dislike him either. He was raised by the Knowledge Keepers. Of course, he’s smarter than me. No. I dislike Dycin because despite his knowledge, he has no idea what he’s doing but presses on anyway. In fact, I suspect we’re lost.
Eat your pies and drink your ale and listen well to this story of wonder, of wooing, of weeping, of weddings, of woe—and of some sneezing.
Turnipton was a simple village. The residents preferred it that way. They grew their potatoes and milked their cows. They had their occasional celebration, but no adventures
When you plan to murder a monarch, the last creature you should ever tell is a tree.
Yes, every peasant child knows you can’t trust oaks, but I had to get the woods involved. You see, fae kings are notoriously bad at dying, and it would be unacceptable for a man of my station
Mrs. Smith smothered the flames bursting from Cade’s hair with a dishcloth. Brushing back her messy curls, she studied me out of the corner of her eye. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Kyle?”
I grinned at her. “Of course I do! I may only be eleven, but I take care of
Dear Josh,
I hope you enjoyed Italy. I hear the coast is beautiful this time of year, and after that trouble with the gas main below your building and all the strange sounds coming from your upstairs neighbor, you certainly deserved a vacation!
As we agreed, I stopped by your apartment every other day
Family reunions, am I right?
I stalk through the crowd, the knives strapped to my thighs jangling with every step. Wizards spot me and clutch their oak staffs. Hardened warriors stroke their swords thoughtfully.
Sharp eyes rake me from my spiky raven hair to my black leather boots. I hold my head high.
“9-1-1, state your emergency.”
“Hi, I think I’ve lost my charge,” Bethany said, shoving aside the clothes in the coat closet.
“Your charge, ma’am?”
“Yes. I was hired as an in-home caregiver to Ms. Rose Carterwood.” Bethany closed the closet door and darted back down the green carpeted hallway. “I went to the bathroom
Nibbs lifted his Medula Inc. mug to his thinning mustache and sighed as the tangy notes enveloped him.
Ivy stuck her head around the cubicle wall. “I wouldn’t drink that. Puck’s been messing with the sugar again.”
Nibbs pursed his lips. He’d had it with that imp.
“I just took Madam Medula her
“You’ve dealt with tough cases before, Jinkens, but this Homo sapiens crew…” The Councilor rolls all four of his eyes.
“They’re a complicated group,” I admit, “but that’s expected with humans.” Actually, most of what I know about humans is only theoretical from my Universe-ity studies, but I intend to learn as much as
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