For Zadie, the first ninety-nine steps under the oppressive canopy of nighttime Pennsylvania woods were hard enough. The air was still and stagnant, and only thin shafts of moonlight pierced the darkness. But at the hundredth step, Zadie hesitated and took a deep breath. She had reached the point where she would have
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Comforting scents of spice, herbs, and fruits filled the wood-paneled room, cozy enough to distract from the cold rain—and the woeful news. Mistress Millet dipped a carved cup into the pot simmering over her fire, then shuffled over and set it in front of Ivy, who wiped away a tear she pretended
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Attn: Wizard Mark Fennel
Magical Medical
Outgoing private comm records from Royal Wizard Greg Zaks
2.1.11
The headaches are back.
I know you diagnosed tension, but I’m convinced it’s something more. I can hear you saying, “They started when Flora disappeared. You have no prior history.” But they’ve lasted months.
“Rats in the grain again,” Farmer Jem mutters over breakfast while he tears into his slice of bread smothered with jam and cream. He doesn’t even glance at me, but Mrs. Jem does, shooting me a narrow look that makes me squirm.
“You know what that means, Kitten.” She sets a thin crust
Pushing off the embankment, I crouch low in the hollow craft, hoping the reeds cover my retreat. I shift the bundle in my arms, all the while my heart thumps in my ears.
I’d built this boat with a single purpose. To escape. Taking something with me wasn’t part of the plan.
Eat your pies and drink your ale and listen well to this story of wonder, of wooing, of weeping, of weddings, of woe—and of some sneezing.
Turnipton was a simple village. The residents preferred it that way. They grew their potatoes and milked their cows. They had their occasional celebration, but no adventures
Today was yet another day her curse might lift—and Iris couldn’t let it.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as waves of Priam’s love reached out from his wing of her castle. His affection buffeted like a breeze, twining around her limbs—and tearing into her beast-curse, the curse that
“This should be it.” Kardan glanced at the map. “The mountain tomb of Arned the Curse-bringer. But all I can see is endless desert.”
A scorching wind scattered dust upon cracked earth. His wife squinted against the glare of the setting sun. “Are you sure you got the position right?”
Kardan gestured
“Coppelia, the next time a cursed mummy comes to life and you think it’s a great chance to pretend to be Indiana Jones, leave me out of it!” Wolfgang Potts puffed as the two siblings darted down a dark museum hallway, lit by their flashlights and red emergency lights.
Coppelia shoved the sign
The scorching heat retreated as the wall of flame fizzled into nothingness. Irrick looked across the ruined campfire at the soot-stained face blinking back at him.
Wonderful! he thought. Those eyebrows aren’t going to grow back in a hurry.
“Gah! Why wizard’s fire magic so strong?” bellowed Krull “Now Krull’s supper ruined!”
“Did you just ask me to cut off your head?” Arden stared through the iron bars at the tiger.
“I did.” The cat calmly laid her head on her paws.
“You must be mad!”
“Perhaps.” Her lips curled back in a grin like some overgrown Cheshire Cat.
He shivered. He hoped the dormice
My true love, Prince Corduroy, was a bear. I mean that in the nicest, kindest, and most loving sense. Thanks to the Committee’s vindictive curse, he transforms into a grizzly bear during daylight.
But I had kissed him!
“Shouldn’t that undo the curse?” I asked my best friend and fairy godmother, Amelia.
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