The sun had risen, but the sea hadn’t noticed. I slid off my hydro-scooter into the kelp-filled ocean. “Yikes,” I bit out, every movement driving fresh stabs of ice across my limbs.
A dozen feet away, a round head bobbed above the surface. “Miki?” My sister’s sea otter swam closer. “I don’t need
“What we have here is a mystery, my friends.” Ten-year-old Ana addressed the row of stuffed animals—and one real girl—that sat at attention.
The girl raised her hand, and Ana swallowed a sigh. “Yes, Mabel?”
“This is just a pretend mystery, right?”
Ana loved her cousin dearly, but, by Shakespeare’s pen,
Diving for corpses was not Belyan’s ideal profession, but someone had to do it. She shivered as cold, merciless currents swept past, dragging snarls of seaweed and chipped clamshells along with them.
Before her, two gleaming shapes curled through the water, light glowing from their sleek bodies. The presence of Ursu and Laur
1000 meters out.
The clipper cut smoothly, silently, through the water—leaving not a ripple on the surface. Inside its shabby cabin, the captain sat still and focused, his energies on maintaining course for the destination ahead. Although confident outside, his thoughts raced and tumbled with every crashing wave. He hesitated to approach
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
John sighed contentedly as he sat down on his favorite bench at the very end of the pier, as far from the bustling high-street as he could get. It was 3:00 in the afternoon, a cold wind blew hard off the bay, and there wasn’t a single soul in sight—just the way
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The fish revolted, and it was glorious. Bluetooth, mudfish, and desert trout swarmed the river and frothed its waters. Paddlesturges and red cripes leaped in the air and landed, flopping, upon my deck.
The mining bot at my stern sent me a warning.
E81921: PR05P3CT0R, dredge buckets are under attack.
But I already
Something was killing the chickens. Outside the window, in the coop, their squawks broke the silent Kentucky night beyond the homestead’s walls—chaotic bursts of fear and agony.
A boy of fifteen, Roland Chadwick sprang out of bed while his younger brother and sister gazed at him wide-eyed from the mattress the three of them shared
“Prince Heltor gave you a pet?”
“Quinn is a noble steed,” Brix corrected.
“That mutated deer is a noble steed?” Moxly lifted a brow. “You got punished, didn’t you?”
“Firstly, Quinn is a dragon not a deer.”
“Explains the scales, but not the antlers.”
“Secondly, it’s an honor to have her.” Brix lifted his chin
Coppelia Potts, Nightmare Hunter, watched her brother Wolfgang pick up a tiny stone bird. He shuddered as he offered it to her.
“You know that scene in Narnia where the White Witch turns the animals to statues?” He swallowed as Coppelia turned the unfortunate bluebird around in her hands. “That’s what I feel
My backpack is twitching.
I peer under my desk at the previously-inanimate object and try not to panic. Professor Delorey’s reptile lecture goes in and out of my ears.
Oh. Crap.
My bag moves again. I kick it, and Venus lets out a yelp—Venus being my tiny pet dragon, not the planet.
If only that blasted goat hadn’t eaten the time machine.
Inventor and his brother, Farmer, hadn’t spoken a word between them since. Plus, the stupid goat blipped to the Renaissance every time it hiccupped for a solid month. That afternoon snack had ruined everything…
Inventor shook his head, staring out the workshop’s high
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