The engine in my mecha whined as its knees strained, taking the last step onto the icy rise. In the grand view of cold white horizons, the Aurora shimmered vivid green overhead. Despite unceasing mortal peril, the endless ice had her consolations.
None of which made it worth it to me.
Pushing off the embankment, I crouch low in the hollow craft, hoping the reeds cover my retreat. I shift the bundle in my arms, all the while my heart thumps in my ears.
I’d built this boat with a single purpose. To escape. Taking something with me wasn’t part of the plan.
“Ready when you are, Cap’n Muldoon.”
My first mate O’Hara squints expectantly through his good eye, the other covered with a black patch. The crew of the Muirgen clusters behind him, waiting for my signal.
Our target, the whaling ship Pawtuxet, flounders on the choppy gray sea, her mast shattered by a well-placed
Waves lapped against the ship’s hull as we eased as close to the island’s rocky coast as we dared. Even with a full moon, I couldn’t see any of the island’s inhabitants—but I could hear them.
“It’s so beautiful,” someone sighed.
Swinging around, I found a sailor walking in a trance
The calm night shattered into blood-curdling screams.
Lo-en jolted awake at the base of the old spine tree acting as her cover. The screams echoed through the village beyond the forest’s edge as a family awakened to learn it was their house, their loved one that had been chosen as that night’s sacrifice.
“In the tales of them that came before, there’s talk of the otherworldly, spectral kite.” Pop’s cybernetic eye stared down the empty barrel of his gun. The rest of the parts stretched across his lap. “The settlers said you could see clean through the bird’s skin, past its bones, straight to its beating heart.
Read it now
The docks stink of fish and cigars. During my early days as a Magickal Protections Officer, I used to retch almost daily. Now, the stench merely reminds me of what it hides—the light, sage scent of drakonixes.
I stalk down the creaky wooden planks, gripping Amaka’s leash as she slithers in front of
You adjust your tie, unable to help first-day flutters. The nondescript Serpent & Dove offices are paradoxically soothing yet disorienting.
Trying to walk at a brisk and assured pace, you head toward the office you’re to share with your partner. Your desk is opposite the door, clean and without character. The other desk is
“Coppelia Potts, full-time Nightmare Hunter and part-time… babysitter.” Coppelia sighed as she watched the snow fall outside. “I’ve thwarted mummies and captured magical menaces. I think I’m a little bit overqualified to babysit a toddler.”
Wolfgang Potts shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m glad we aren’t in mortal danger for once.
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
“Got a mission for you, kid.”
Judy Suarez tapped the end of her cigarette into an ash tray. I leaned against the office doorway, pad and pen ready.
The Script Doctor’s eyes sparkled. “You ever read Blake Snyder’s magnum opus?”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” She inhaled a long drag, exhaling a plume of smoke
Closure.
Ha.
I’m here by doctor’s orders. The last place I want to see is Death’s Curve. I despise every stick, every inch of pavement, every pebble along this road. You’d hate seeing where your daughter died too.
This is the sort of place teenagers used to go to neck when I was younger.
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