It was a curious shop. Wedged between a formal wear boutique and an espresso bar its brick structure was weathered and chipped. Rusty chains held a wooden sign with a squiggly line running to a red X as the only clue to what one might find inside.
Well-dressed pedestrians hurried by never sparing
Trixie sighed and threw the imperfect blossom she’d just crafted. It landed in a pile of other discarded blooms.
“Why can’t I get it right?” she moaned, putting her head in her hands. The ancient wood of the table was a prime example of her great-great grandfather’s work. The aged pixie had been
Diana slipped the final crystal into position and counted to five, just in case everything exploded. She’d taken all of the proper precautions, but even the best magical crystals had temperamental days. And if her project shattered again, she’d have to restart from scratch.
Fortunately, this time, the line of glittering crystals only pulsed
Fae-burst had been banned in Anglia for over a decade, but Spencer knew for a fact he’d seen magic onstage tonight.
He peered around the shadowy backstage room. Illusionist dens like this were common in Anglia’s seediest districts, but only sleight of hand was allowed onstage. Fae-burst with its addictive qualities was strictly forbidden.
Simon’s Magickry was not like any traditional magician’s shop. There were no shelves cluttered with ancient books and talismans. There were no candles or crystal balls, nor was the shop musty or dark.
Instead, well-polished white floors reflected the dazzling radiance of the ceiling’s LEDs, filling the shop with brilliance. Plastic-sleeved magic kits
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!”
“I need a wand.”
Exeter, the elderly wandmaker, squinted through his thick glasses at his visitor.
This young man was one of those university types: tall, sandy hair combed to the side, dark eyes, worn robe of cornflower blue with the hood pulled up. Very eager and very naive.
“Are you
So many rats.
Mayor Osveld sidestepped a chittering swarm as he hurried down the cobbled streets of Hamelin. Children flocked, picking up the creatures and tossing them back into the gutters or at each other, laughing. Children and rats. The two main commodities of this stinking town.
He turned into a doorway and sprinted
Eighty bucks seemed like a lot, but it was for Gerald’s thirtieth birthday, so I clicked “confirm” before I could regret those eighty dollars—which turned out to be $97.89 after shipping and tax. I was already on the receipt page when I started to worry how legitimate it was.
Thankfully,
Through closed eyelids, Magister Calysma watched the silvery-blue energy pulse around her as it filled the room with the sharp smell of raw magic. Perched on a pyramid of velvet cushions, she monitored activities across the kingdom. Set in the white marble walls were dozens of quartz crystals, each the size of her head,
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Sounds of children at recess filled the midday air. Laughter. Creaking swings. The metallic ping of kickballs on asphalt. Lurking in the bushes, a lanky bunny hated every noise.
A cunning white Vienna rabbit, Braxton the Sorcerer had stalked these rotten school grounds for days. Watching. Searching. Binkying. The tiny emerald
The face in the crystalline mirror is nothing like what I remember. Cold eyes, a crown of perfectly pressed hair, expression like fine stone glazed in ice.
No one told me becoming the fae Queen would be like… this.
I strain to catch even the slightest glimpse of fire in the depths of her eyes
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