You have something special in you. A weapon no Komainu can wield. Father’s words echoed in Koji’s mind.
Sitting on the dojo floor, he glanced back, drinking in the beauty revealed through the glass wall. The black sea of space teamed with countless stars. Somewhere out there, a month’s journey from this space station,
“I assure you, Mrs. Marcel, this drought is going to break.” Al Bee Bee Watcher smiled at his landlady. The apartment lobby’s 1920’s décor surrounded him, clashing spectacularly with the modern computer on her desk.
“And I’m telling you, there’s no chance.” Mrs. Marcel shook her head. “Put away your raincoat, Mr. Watcher;
Sandra watched the passenger ship enter Delphi’s atmosphere like a shooting star. In the morning, she would leave with it, and her future would end.
She leaned against the windowsill and looked down at her luggage. Five bags. I don’t need keepsakes. Memories will be enough. They’ll have to be.
Carrie removed the clutter from her husband’s dresser, dropping each piece onto the bed. A package of new shoelaces. An old watch, the hands on its face forever proclaiming three-thirteen. A comb. His lab glasses. Safety pins. A tie clip.
At this rate, it would take the baby’s entire nap time to get
Tank had a sixth sense about space junk. He could intuit the difference between a salvageable satellite and orbital debris, a useful skill ever since the collapse of the Sagan-Hawking interstellar gateway had induced collisions and made debris removal a prime concern for space travel. If only his spacey superpower could differentiate
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Verdant rivers of life rushed from the mountaintop beneath Sayara, flowing around her. The currents carried her mind deeper until she touched a faint presence—a spark fighting for its life.
The familiar clicking of wood on stone disrupted her focus. She searched for the presence again—but nothing. What was it doing inside the mountain?
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Ávila de la Mora peered between the trees of Inverness Wood with a pigeon perched on her shoulder. “You’re sure this is the best entrance, Atlas?”
Yes, the pigeon cooed across their bond. The trinket is not far from here.
As soon as she crossed into the wood full of magical creatures and artifacts,
“Would you move, you worthless bag of feathers!” I put my full weight behind the shove I give my gryphon, but it’s no use.
He’s rooted. He’s staring. Strike that, he’s pining. He’s literally wiggling his feathery eyebrows… at her.
My forehead slumps against Griff’s furry shoulder.
Heather Dewslip ambles towards the green,
Run.
The pull made Noyer strain against her ankle cuff. The purple bruising beneath it twinged comfortingly.
She was safe. The ocean couldn’t drown her yet, so she listened to its thrum through the story of an old stormer.
“It was a glorious city, and they broke it,” he was saying.
The blessed coffee cup is almost to my lips when the call comes.
“Linda, 10-91a. Fifth and Columbus.”
Carla. She’s one of the few cops open-minded enough to take me and my work seriously. 10-91a is the code for “stray animal.” In my case, though, it means something different. Carla leaves her mic on
“Are you sure about this?” My stomach turned as I played with the sleeves of my sweater, worrying a few loose threads between my fingertips.
Eastwood paced across the cramped room where we’d been locked away. “We’re in a bit of a pickle here, Rose. I don’t see any other way.
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I wake to vertical metal bars rising like walls all around me and a thick chain acting like a piece of jewelry around my neck.
I am right where I am supposed to be.
As I rise on all fours and stretch out my back, I can barely move a few inches
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