“Homeward bound,” I announce, opening the door of my time machine. The chromium steering lever on the control panel gleams invitingly.
“Blitzkrieg!” Cuthbert the parrot flaps onto my shoulder.
“You can stop shrieking that ridiculous code word now,” I grumble. “The mission is over.”
And what a mission it was. I’m not one
I stared at the animal perched on the Archmage’s hand. While its head resembled a dragon’s, it definitely wasn’t one. It was a brown, fluffy bird with big eyes and a tiny beak. The bird lifted a wing and began preening its feathers.
I bit my lip. “Are you sure this is my familiar?
I stepped into Gram’s room in Sandy Valley Home and nearly dropped my fresh-cut flowers. Gram sat next to the open window, her arm half-buried in a bucket of dried insects and grubs. She tossed some onto the pavement where a crow pecked hungrily.
Hazel, Gram’s aide, smiled at me. “You’re just in time,
Marta clutched a bag of medicinal herbs as she hurried down the dusty street. She brushed past a man holding a chicken he had just purchased, and she jumped backward at the animal’s squawk. Marta collided with a boy grasping a wooden box. It fell with a crunch.
“Dios mio!” The boy glared.
The cold, moonless night found a solitary willow-warbler perched on a rocky outcrop of the mountain, gazing up at the vast silver shape that hung in the sky.
What a strange looking creature, sang the bird, I wonder what it wants.
Adam observed the flock of pigeons. The whole time he’d been sitting on the rusted park bench, seeds disappeared around only one. The real pigeon ate the seeds he threw at it; the drones just pecked at the ground.
A few drone birds took flight. Adam glanced at his watch. Right on schedule.
“Oxygen’s a little over 17 percent.” Naomi checked her watch. “That means one hour of outside time, Lydia.”
“Yes, mama!” Lydia kicked off her shoes and ran to the recreation fields.
Naomi settled in under the willowy arms of a veilbranch tree, watching her daughter collect wildflowers in the evening light of Eridani’s
Hearing anything over that wind’s howl is impossible. So maybe I’m not hearing anything. Maybe I’m imagining… something. I’m sure I’m not dreaming. Must check.
Cold floor. Even through my slipper socks, I shiver. As I tiptoe to the window, I keep a hand on the IV stand,
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