The prisoner still refuses to talk.
Hands clasped behind my back, I pace my cabin. Shutters dim the starlight lanterns on my desk, but the wide, paned window reveals the sparkling view of a myriad of stars to our stern. I can’t bring myself to pull the blinds, lest I miss some glimpse of pursuit.
I’ve spent too much time in the underworld.
Atticus scowled at his reflection in one of The Drake’s shiny hull plates. Dark shadows drooped beneath his eyes, and his skin had taken on a bluish tint. Too many months breathing the fog in the netherwoods.
He hitched the burlap sack higher on his should
All I wanted was to make a world.
Stop looking at me. I can feel you looking at me. Judging me. I didn’t ask for much—not to rule a world that already existed, not to bend a galaxy to my will—only to make myself a cosmos, woven by my own mind.
“Could I fly up and cut through the bars?” Deidre hovers a few feet away from me.
I shake my head. “I rigged an invisible forcefield below the cage.”
“What if we disarm it?”
“There’s a cooldown timer.” I sigh. “And the bars are titanium.”
“I could use my lasers,” Raymond suggests.
“The cage will
I will eat you.
My meal sits outside of a prison cell’s glass wall. Tempting. So close. Inches away.
Eat you how?
“I-I just wanted to say I’m not afraid of you, Morlock.” The figure holds an object in his hands. “I know that’s not your real name. But that’s what you are. Like
Simon’s Magickry was not like any traditional magician’s shop. There were no shelves cluttered with ancient books and talismans. There were no candles or crystal balls, nor was the shop musty or dark.
Instead, well-polished white floors reflected the dazzling radiance of the ceiling’s LEDs, filling the shop with brilliance. Plastic-sleeved magic kits
I savor the moment as our cannons fire on the bustling trade ring. The void of space swallows any sound as red flashes shoot from our guns and streak for the alliance’s heart. The time for my vengeance has come at last.
The blast turns the huge ring-shaped trade station into space dust
The Veil between worlds smells like overripe fruit, a deep purple scent. Cloying. Decaying. Bruised.
The sanitized atmospheres of living worlds lack the depth and complexity of abandoned realms. They never smell like the Veil, suffused with the scintillating aroma of death.
I breathe it deeply.
Invigorating.
Its heavens, ever-clouded. Its ground
In four minutes, I’ll be dead.
I didn’t plan to go down like this, but you know what they say: Make plans or don’t make plans, God hocks a loogie in your face regardless. So here I am, dripping with holy spit in Jackson Square. Here I am with a splitting headache
“Tell us how y’all got that shiner, Cap?” Private Cordone’s voice crackled over the comms. I couldn’t remember his full name, Something Something Cordone IV.
I shook my head and closed my thermos, suppressing a sigh. Ever since I’d reported for duty with a black eye, the squad hadn’t been able to
The biggest risk of being a superhero was ending up a cliché.
Caspian had always mocked the stereotypical hero speeches he’d seen on the news, but now, facing his own villainous showdown in a closed pawn shop at midnight, well… it seemed like the only things he could spout were tired old
Florence’s knuckles creaked as she clutched the bottle of phoenix ash.
What if it’s not enough? She bit her lip. The medicine is almost as rare as the ash.
Threadbare skirts rustled around her legs as she ducked through the rough-hewn doorframe of the Emberstone Tavern. Her stomach clenched in hunger as the rich
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