The dark market never changed. Even after sixty years, the rickety stalls seemed apt to blow over at a breath, and the sun unable to penetrate the dark shroud.
Penelope halted at the edge of the alleyway. Jack’s voice echoed in her head––“I want an orb!”––and her staunch response––
“These are the practices we must observe,” Master Yvear said. “Neglect them, and we neglect life itself.”
“Yes, master,” Ranghur said dutifully for the thousandth time.
Or he supposed it was that much. He had been apprenticed to the temple on his seventh birthday, now over three years ago, and he could do the sums.
“Thief!”
Esme stormed across the weathered floorboards of her seaside shop. Displays of enchanted sea-glass and metal pendants swung in the wake of her temper, clinking like warning chimes.
Jack froze, his hand half-in, half-out of the small wooden chest that usually stayed beneath the counter, away from customers’ curious gazes.
“You’re hurting me, Wynn.”
Wynnstan let go of Gemma’s hand. “Sorry.” He glared at his stone fingers, wishing for the hundredth––perhaps thousandth––time that his hands could be soft and delicate, able to hold Gemma like she deserved to be held.
She rubbed her hands together. The creek’s low rumble filled the silence
I just wanted to touch the earth.
Zysteria had heard rumours that soil was much like sand, but she hadn’t quite believed it. Now she was so close—and yet so far.
What was I thinking? Chills swept through her limbs, burrowing into her scales. She thrashed against the sand,
I could hardly contain my excitement when Papa chose me for this mission. The guild’s lost treasure, a great weapon rumored to lay low scores of men in a single breath, had been found at last. The centuries-long quest was drawing to a close and I, Stasya Vorishka, would be the one to complete it.
Read it now
“You got the chicken?” Tommy asked, strutting across the outfield grass wearing nothing but boxer shorts.
“Gosh sakes, Spitfield,” I whispered. “Keep it down, will ya?”
“You found one, though?”
“Deli’s closed.”
Tommy raised upturned palms toward the moon. “You had one job, Luis. You buy rotisserie chicken. I bring the jam and jellies. And Roger…”
The knock comes late one sunny morning.
My legs tremble as I go to answer the door. Behind it is a stiff, black-coated constable. And behind him are three men with boxes and bags, ready to steal my treasures.
“Adélie Moreau?”
I twist my hands into my skirt, clear my throat, and nod.
Lora, my youngest, grinned as she lifted our dinner plates with a wispy sapphire spell. “Clean up time!” Her arms wobbled. “Ooh, heavy.”
“Papa!” Thorn, my oldest, leapt from his chair, his eyes on me. “Make her stop!”
“Lora, you know the rules.” I spoke gently, not wanting to shame my daughter for her newfound abilities.
The hero of the Hoard War was a coward. The legions of ash-stained soldiers who watched her in awe, whispered of her great feats, and saluted her every step just didn’t know it. They looked at her and saw a hero come to save them and extinguish the dark. They didn’t see
Read it now
The blizzard howled around the entrance of the cave, sending flurries of ice and snow washing over the floor. Normally that wouldn’t concern me, but it was summer.
I blinked, looking away from the white swirl and focusing on Ma, who shivered slightly and blew a steady stream of fire into the pit between us and the storm.
She’d heard of a ship in a bottle.
But a ship caught in a storm and trapped in a bottle—that one was new.
Sitting at the counter, Deidra studied the strange bottle—more of a jar, really—and the little storm thundering and pouring down rain above it. Frantic men the size of ants
