“Florence. Florence! I’m sorry. Please come back.”
The shouts ricochet between the chimney-like hoodoo rocks, making it seem like Aunt Junie is everywhere at once. I huff. If anyone could master that superpower, it’d be her.
“Leave me alone! I hate you.”
Jojo the long-eared jerboa was terrible at serving tea. No matter how carefully he carried the porcelain pot across the floor, his uneven gate always caused sloshing onto the fine oriental rug. The slow, wobbly progress was painful to watch, yet
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A woman strode into the dragon stable beside the stadium, then paused in the stone building’s dim light because a young girl stood in front of the stall containing a Tenebrous dragon. Warily the woman advanced.
The girl startled. “I didn’t think
There was no escape from Interhaven’s warship blockade. For forty-eight hours, we had pored over the map, looking for any possible escape route, and still we found nothing.
“We can’t leave with all our cargo intact,” I stated, flipping my long brown
I floated nervously, trying to hide my twitching tail. To my left, my twin brother Ellion swam proudly, confident—perhaps too confident—that he would be the next Master of the Tide, King of the Merpeople. His soul-bonded shark swam in menacing circles beneath him.
My soul-bond
The market was usually the loudest place in Tabgha, full of fishmongers waving their latest catches, servants haggling over the price of oxen for their masters, and preachers on street corners trumpeting the end of all things. Yosef didn’t mind. The louder and more
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Alek’s frown deepened with the echo of his footsteps on the stone. “Your Majesty, the Ivernians come closer to breaching the gates every day.”
Saverd shrugged. “No one can dig two miles deep, Aleksander. The walls will stand. And if they succeed in climbing over, we have
According to legend, the last herd of unicorns had retreated to a fantastic haven as their numbers dwindled. They had braved the dark interiors of the sunless forests, forded perilous lava rivers, and crossed desolate deserts to reach a majestic mountain range where they could continue living in peace.
Nathan was starting to think the legends were full of it.
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Someone shrieked. Everyone’s heads, including mine, swung toward the east side of the village. A riderless broom raced westward, skimming almost close enough overhead to part my hair. Something red dripped from its straws.
Some folks in the market square yelped with panic. Others raced for cover. A few flung themselves over their wares.
A man and woman bought a plot of land and built a cottage and greenhouse. The rest of their earth they cultivated to full, flamboyant, leafy life, pendent with edible gems. Some tomatoes ballooned to be nearly as large as watermelons. Others reminded one
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The numbers appeared after Tara’s tenth birthday. Always red. Never another color. Bright as warning lights. They were hovering above her father’s head while he buttered toast.
32
They flashed like a reflection off glass, wavering each time he leaned toward the raspberry jam. She
Dan McKnight knew what his next customer wanted: strawberries, her favorite fruit. The familiar woman stood before him, wrapped in a scarlet cloak as though she’d stepped out of a pre-Raphaelite painting.
“Hi, Cathy. I’ve picked a punnet just for you.” He lifted
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