Inspector Gustav Ackerson removed his bowler hat and knelt next to the corpse. A boy of fourteen years stared at the nickelodeon’s plaster ceiling with glazed eyes. According to the night guardsman, the poor lad had snuck into the theater after hours and had been discovered lying on the floor next to a mutoscope.
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I sit up gasping, drenched in sweat. For the third time this week, I’ve awoken from nightmares of our city on fire. People screaming, houses exploding.
Each nightmare ends the same way–with blackened bodies staring at me from their smoldering graves.
I leave our bed to stare out the window with my oil lamp…
Dr. Byron Stoneburner inserted the bronze snake into a satchel as German bullets whizzed overhead. He secured the latch on the bag and mumbled a prayer.
Courage. Or Jack’s dead.
A disheveled officer nudged his arm. “You’re serious?”
Byron tightened his helmet chinstrap and placed a muddy boot on the trench ladder.
Ever since a wolf devoured Marian’s grandmother, the Sheriff of Nottingham had set a permanent watch on his daughter, which made it rather difficult to sneak into the forest, but not impossible.
Marian huffed and pulled her red riding cloak tighter to ward off the morning chill. Her father hadn’t been particularly fond
Are you the Beowulf who took on Breca in a swimming match on the open sea?”
The festive hall quieted. Unferth, that envious rat, who had remained silent throughout the hero’s introduction, now sought to sow discord. Beowulf’s boasts had convinced King Hrothgar, and everyone else in the mead hall, that he’d be
“So why Tarshish?”
The man’s shoulders tensed, but he continued counting out the coins for my fare. Finally, he shrugged. “I hear it’s nice this time of year.”
“Right.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Tarshish, nice? Either the man was greatly misinformed—no one went to Tarshish on holiday—or…
On his way into town one hot, sticky Saturday, Paul Bunyan stopped short at a river. Well, not short—Bunyan was a giant who towered over the forest’s biggest trees. He didn’t do anything short. He did stop, however, and point to a logjam in the river, made of oaks and pines
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“My king, I will be the one to find the answer to Merlin’s riddle,” Sir Percival yelled back to Arthur. He galloped ahead of the other knights as they made their way through the dark forest.
Sage, the king’s squire, looked over to his lordship. “Sir Percival seems quite eager to gain
Joyful laughter fills the air as my men arrange carts filled with their wives, children, and the spoils of war at the edge of the battlefield. Their families need to be here to witness when Briton claws her way from the eagles’ talons.
I can almost taste victory on my tongue, sweet
I found the body at dawn.
The sailor was slumped against the wrecked stern in a bloody pulp. He clung to the humble fishing boat’s planking as the chilled waters of Lake Erie lapped the crumpled hull.
Poor soul.
Bart, my beagle, set his paws on the top rail of our small fishing vessel.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Waves hit against the side of the Friendship. Slap. Slap. Slap. We are an invader in their domain. My stomach roils, and I clamp a sweaty palm over my mouth. I wouldn’t lose much in the way of food if I retched, but it’s the principle of the whole thing.
Gaul,47 BC
Scents of olive oil and flour tickle my nose as I set up my bread stand. Caesar’s statue rises above me, a constant reminder of who’s in charge. That I can never escape those who are always watching. I send a prayer to the gods thanking them for the coolness of the
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