The galaxy stretched out before me, brightly colored stars blinking beckoningly. I stepped toward it, tucking the long chain with its ornate key back into my shirt as I pulled the door shut behind me, closing off the suspended wooden platform with its many other portal doorways. Standing on the edge of the
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Nan and I were at the hives when the stranger stopped by. “Elias Carver, your new neighbor.” He tipped his hat and nodded toward the gray house on the hill. “Belonged to my late uncle. We weren’t close. I only got word a few months ago the old place’s been empty for years. Now I’m here to settle down.”
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The tangled jungle darkened around Damon as the sun slipped from the sky.
“We will stop here for the night,” he called to the men trudging behind him. They eased the supply packs from their shoulders and threw themselves to the ground with weary sighs of relief.
All except one.
“Are you sure
Bad enough that I’m standing on a turtle larger than Zofan’s five-acre property. Even worse that I’m here with hundreds of wizards and wizardesses for their yearly convention. Worse still that my mentor Zofan has partnered me with the arrogant apprentice Walfort. None of these, however, make my boots shake like dreading my yearly
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That blasted bookworm is at it again.
I can hear his little munch munch munch all the way from the other side of the library. My mentor, Wizard Owyn, has told me countless times to ignore it while I am in his library. But I can’t help it—the wretched grub is eating the
Detective Caspian cupped the brittle gray blossom in his hands. That it had once been a rose was hardly believable. As he handled it, the petals crumbled to ash.
The ocelot beside him nudged his elbow, and he held the mess of gray dust out to the wild cat.
“Leslie, what do you think?”
Many years ago, Caligo looked upon the Moon’s soft, silvery light with contempt. “You are nothing. You simply reflect the light of the Sun. Do you think you can protect the world from my darkness? The Sons of Night will destroy every last human until there is no one left.”
Transforming into a jaguar, Caligo
The monarchs fluttered about the bright orange milkweed blossoms. The color of their wings matched it perfectly, like a sunset shining from the bushes.
“This is going to be the perfect centerpiece for our presentation.” Penelope held the camera steady as she crouched forward. She scanned the ground, careful not to snap any
Gaela clacked down the street, heavy on her four legs after a long workday. Even her prickles ached. Her tabular dinged and a message floated up. She scanned the holographic text hoping her 338—er, 335—kids hadn’t eaten one another again. Because that’s what happened when there wasn’t enough money.
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Their footwork was flawless. Their abdomens vibrated at just the right rate. They executed each turn with precision. Every eye was on the golden dancers, mine most of all.
I was halfway to proving my hypothesis about bee communication. PhD, here I come.
Dr. Young shrugged. “At least this bee hologram
Miles—scarab beetle and humble photojournalist—strained to listen. He glanced at the surrounding trees, spectral colossi in the moonlight. A fallen log sat rotting, just ahead.
“I don’t hear anything.”
Calvin—atlas beetle and journalist—stood stock still. His three horns curved upward in a graceful silhouette against the dark horizon.
Bright signs decorated with gleeful peaches and grinning ears of corn advertised a local fall festival down the road. Tempting. Justin was more than ready for a break. The constant whoosh of hot air blasting through the car’s open windows for three days made for two cranky children. Cranky father, too.
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