By Carlos Candela Terry I wake facedown on the cool titanium floor, my vision blurred and my mind shrouded in fog. My jaw cracks with stiffness. Iaclite’s fiery, blue light shines through the portside window and bathes dust particles in a teal hue; they hover like a swarm of lifeless fireflies. I struggle to my
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The world ended, and yet, life went on.
Gerard set his shoulder against the fallen doorpost, straining to push the wooden beam back into place. Throughout the rest of the desecrated cathedral, the workers who now relied upon his guidance swept away broken glass
By Patrick M. Fitzgerald Merrick rapped the door’s ornate knocker. “Garrett is one of the most honorable knights of the Order of the Trinity. He retired years ago, and his reputation is impeccable.” The initiate, Derrin, showed him the list of names. Every one but Garrett’s was crossed out. “I hope you’re right, sir. He’s
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The water sparkled green at the far end of the Northwest Coast, a beautifully masked death trap. At least it was a break from the witch hunt playing on all the holocubes in town.
Toby kicked a rock and made sure to stay high on the jetty, well away from the water.
As old Stanley Gibson stood in the hall, buttoning his overcoat, the phone rang. A scowl flashed across his features. He hated any interruption to his routine. He thought of letting it ring and setting off for his post-lunch walk anyway, but his deep-seated sense of correctness overrode the temptation.
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This, this so not my job. This what Sam do, and I maybe help a little. I drive the car.
Still, there’s no one else. I need my Samara. And if I don’t find her, no one will.
I back up. Explain. We were supposed to meet at airport for our honeymoon. Sam said she had some last-minute details to fix.
Intoxicating notes floated through the air as I quietly opened the door. I took a deep breath and entered.
My former detective partner had her back to me and clearly hadn’t heard me enter. I hesitated before clearing my throat to announce my presence.
She stopped and set the violin down. “Isaiah Glisent.”
Archie peered out from the small tent as the sun began to rise. The propane heater did little to break the cold as he and Lily huddled among a mound of sleeping bags and blankets, staring through the small window.
Their equipment was spread around the floor of the tent. Flashlights lay between them.
Light burst across the room, exploding in a shower of sparks.
Chaimon lowered his pen and glanced up from the treaty spread across his desk. Ah, he’s back.
When the sparks faded, a familiar figure materialized. Dressed in a black coat and matching fedora, his outfit looked out of place in the castle’s study where Chaimon’s sword collection covered the stone walls. Then again, a time traveler couldn’t help obscurity.
“You have to admit, Ramses, this round of The Demigods of Demolition was awesome. Watching Hercules pin Nessus the Centaur in three rounds was amazing,” Bernie said.
We were waiting for a taxi and hiding from the varied rush of people and creatures leaving Asterian Arena, home to the Alliance of Legends Wrestling Federation. I’d never seen my partner so animated.
Something happened today, and if Papa finds out…
He can’t know.
He can’t know I have Voices.
When I first heard the murmurs early this morning, I almost jumped out of bed and ran to tell him. I’m lucky I caught myself. If he knew his apprentice—his own son—was a Voicer… I already disappoint him enough.
Aba was gone.
I massaged my temples to clear my thoughts. He’d be back in a week from the old country after clearing up some marriage paperwork. I had to keep busy.
I picked up my purse to leave when a man stumbled in.
He was as unkempt and golden as my Aba was groomed and dark. His long, greasy tresses draped across his shoulders. His clothes, ripped and dirty, barely hung on his gaunt frame
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