For young Margery Jones, The Candy Shoppe was more than a store to buy sweets. It was a place of opportunity.
When she walked through the gilded doors, sugar and color assailed her senses. Rows of
rainbow lollipops, orange taffy, grass green gumdrops, and striped pickleberries lined the shelves. Tiny planes zipped
Hanu flattened the parchment on the grass and reviewed his handwritten spell for the final time. Proper exit condition for the main loop? Check. Clearly defined energy conversions? Check. Timeout in case of emergency? Of course.
“This is it,” he said.
The maple trees surrounding the clearing rustled in response. Birds above exchanged
Gray sky. Gray walls. Black iron gate.
“Do your magic, girl!” Shouts harsh as gravel. “Stop holding back. We know you can do it!”
Dirt brown boot, crunching into her side. Dung-colored ground.
Whimpering, Alia pressed into the corner. One of her captors seized her by the hair and dragged her forward…
Since graduating high school, I’d acquired the ability to identify poisons—without dying, important detail—saved the head of the council, learned about mystical evil Knights threatening our kingdom, been killed—poison again, I’m not immune—and rescued my true love on multiple occasions. You’d think that’d be enough to ask of any eighteen-year-old.
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The portal closed with a whumph and the smell of old books. I’d teleported myself deep beneath the massive castle complex of the Infinite Library, chasing rumors of ancient, forgotten books.
Dangerous books.
I hadn’t been expecting carpet.
I Imparted will into a small light sphere made of bronze. It floated at eye-level
Being one of the Seven Deadly Sins wasn’t supposed to be easy, but Pride thought it would be a heck of a lot simpler than this.
It started when his sister, Envy, bet that she could find one person he couldn’t taint. Seemed like a straightforward win, considering most humans were corruptible beasts.
Until Cresella.
“Trish, that’s amazing,” my best friend cooed as I drizzled the final icing whisker over the last ginger cat cookie. “You’ll win the scholarship tomorrow for sure!”
Still clutching the blue-handled frosting knife, I swiped the back of my arm across my forehead. “I wish I had your confidence, Bri.”
“Come on, girl,”
With a final cry, I swept the ogre’s foul head off his body and sidestepped as he crashed to the ground beside his two brethren. Before the dust settled, I bounded up the hill to their lair, whence black smoked billowed. They kept their ill-gotten treasures within—and their captives, who cried piteously
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Rule 44: Dragons are not heroes—do not act like one.
It’s one of the many rules I, Orpheus, abide by. One of 345, to be exact. Though please don’t ask me to recite them all—I simply haven’t the time. Cave dwelling involves much slumbering and polishing of scales.
But I’ll tell you a few.
Never make a deal with a fae lord.
The old adage ran through my head as I approached the house of Lord Faron Beaugard—High Lord of the Forest Realm. The glamor—a façade—of the house rolled toward me in unending waves, but I wasn’t foolish enough to be sucked in. I scanned the sprawling mansion,
Apprentice wizard—a glorious job fraught with adventure and magic, one sure to gain the attentions of the ladies. Especially if you’re not up to the whole hay baling and Adonis-body-building thing.
I rest my dirt-caked hands on my knees. Ha. Some adventure. Then again, pulling weeds is no small feat, especially
The portal closed with a whumpf and the briny scent of the sea. And maybe a hint of giant sea turtle. I gazed up at the heights of the mossy stone castle. A few cold stars shone above like chips of diamond.
Once inside, the halls were dark. Good. I didn’t want to
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