“Wish it was harder to believe you’re dirty, Ed,” the captain muttered, slapping handcuffs in place. “You made it easy for us.”
The case of laundered bills had given him away, but the insult still rankled.
Ed Johnson stewed on it the whole ride to the precinct, was still stewing as they led him
“You’ve dealt with tough cases before, Jinkens, but this Homo sapiens crew…” The Councilor rolls all four of his eyes.
“They’re a complicated group,” I admit, “but that’s expected with humans.” Actually, most of what I know about humans is only theoretical from my Universe-ity studies, but I intend to learn as much as
“We’re more than dust,” Auntie Nadya asserted.
Eight-year-old Pevka sniffled and swiped his fist under his nose.
Without dropping her shovel, Auntie pressed her handkerchief into his hand. Then she shoved her spade into the pile of silver stardust beside her, expertly hefting it to determine its weight before tossing the load into
“Mirror, Mirror, in my hand—”
I cringe as the incantation rings throughout my prison.
“Who’s the fairest in the land?”
Against my will, I’m dragged through mists and shadows to the Glass. On the other side stands my captor, Queen Claudia of Grenvue.
I clench my incorporeal fists, and my stomach roils
“A bard here sells stardust?” I tug my top hat low and flip up my collar, adjusting my oxygen mask as I scan the dock.
Mister Kieffer drops from the rope ladder hanging from the Nebula’s railing. “Aye.” Maskless, he’s only a little breathless in the oxygenless Holuvian atmosphere.
It’s risky to let a prisoner
Our world is captured by the Fears—the wraiths of mankind. They haunt us and hunt us, because we are the Children of the Promise. The last hope for the human race.
Which is why I’m leaning against the side of a building in the heat of the sun, watching people
The rhythm of boots against the metal stairs rumbled through the complex louder than the sirens. Jake 257 covered his ears and ducked under the cafeteria table.
Demir 338 peeked down with a smirk. “That’s not the take-cover alarm.”
Lila 411 leaned next to him, pressing her headset to her ear. “Yeah, the emergency’s
A wooden barrel whizzed out of the produce section, bounced past the greeting cards, and slammed into an endcap display of cold remedies. Children’s grape chewables—on sale for $13.99—splattered across the opening of aisle four.
This might be my fault. Brian slumped to the grocery store floor. His head tipped back against
The day I left earth was the day I lost myself.
Our Nebula-class colony ship races through space, headed for the distant Red Orion Galaxy. Four hundred sixteen-year-olds in matching gray jumpers jostle into lines for lunch. Surrounded by the clink of forks on dishes and the smell of subpar cafeteria food,
The scarecrow’s eyes glowed at twilight. Two slits blazed orange as the October sun dipped below a horizon of corn, ten feet tall.
Jester was strapped to a wooden cross. Dressed in a tattered flannel shirt and faded jeans. Straw for tendons and muscles. No heart or organs, much less a brain.
Jessmina had faced tough crowds before, but a squadron of war-torn soldiers? That just felt unfair. She loitered at the bar, though—unfortunately—drinking on the job wasn’t allowed.
She sighed glumly at her situation. Outside, gray gloom and swirling snow. Inside, a table full of scowling warriors with rifles strapped across their backs.
Nova trailed after Aster, her current guardian, as he strode down a road in the light of the evening sun.
“My legs are tired,” Nova said in case Aster hadn’t heard her the first seventy times.
Her purple, four-fingered hand reached for his special Darknight cape: a magical fabric that concealed their true nature
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