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
Six months into the sleep-zombie catastrophe, the survivors knew one thing: they were grateful for the winged, magic sloths.
One such survivor, Leesia, leaped over a crumbling stone wall marking an old boundary between fields. Gasping for breath, she dropped to her knees. Her brother-in-law Rayth joined her a moment later.
Young folk these days.
I squint between my window blinds. Amelia has another new beau—a tall, brooding fellow. They walk hand-in-hand down the street toward my house, chatting.
I frown. I haven’t met this one yet. Usually she brings them by for my inspection first, just to be safe.
They stop walking, and he leans down—
I jolted awake, throwing the sheets off me as a familiar prickle crept across the back of my neck. Not again.
My bedside clock glowed.
2:00 AM.
I sucked in a shaky breath and let it out, then tapped the homing button strapped to my wrist. Hopefully, the Control Team would find me
A whinny echoed across the hills and drifted through Sonora’s window. The sound settled around her, giving her goose bumps as she huddled deeper under her blankets.
With each wheezing breath, the bones rattled within her chest as she pushed herself up in bed on shaking arms and glanced out the cottage’s window.
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