“Have you found it yet?”
I wince as the prince’s voice shrieks in my ear and adjust the earbud’s volume. “We just arrived, Your Highness. I will keep you apprised of our status.”
“Stop killing Time, Alice,” Topper says from my left as he returns the tin of teleporting cookies to his pocket for
“I wasn’t always a soldier, Leroy,” Alice growled as she piloted her hundred-foot-tall, gear-powered, British Mark VII Mecha, overlooking the coast of Praia do Guincho, Portugal.
“Oh?” the young French lieutenant remarked through the AM radio system as he sat in the adjacent American-made Ford T1919 Mecha.
“I grew up a proper Victorian girl
I knew I shouldn’t have tried to catch the movi, but all the other kids in the colony had pets. A teleporting space dog seemed perfect! None of the other kids talked about that at teatime. And I now knew why.
Why didn’t I listen to Dad? I gazed in every direction
“It’s for your own good.” Though Alice’s back was toward her, Edith Liddell could see her sister’s stormy expression in the mirror. She closed the door to Alice’s room and held it shut.
Edith bit her lower lip. Surely she was doing the right thing, trying to convince Alice to give up this Wonderland
On the way to school, Alice told her sister all about her wild adventures in Wonderland.
“Too bad it was a dream.” Her sister shrugged.
But the memories were far too vivid. Could she really have dreamed an entire book’s worth of madness? Alice couldn’t convince herself otherwise. So, after school, she returned
Footsteps creak across the upstairs floorboards, and I crack open an eye. Golden sunlight spills through the oversized bay window and across the fluffy white carpet. My tail wags. It’s my favorite time of day—one we never miss.
The air shimmers.
Miriel’s footsteps are no longer above. She’s sliding into her armchair
Lyra’s greatest desire was to write a story worthy of Miriel Takkenridge.
Three years ago, when Lyra first moved to Bridgewater Falls as an aspiring writer, Miriel took her in. Since then, she had shared the magic in her life with Lyra.
Like the bookshelf that sometimes opened to distant lands. Or the meringue
“Deedee Takkenridge, where have you been?” Miriel stood, hands on her hips, as her granddaughter rode up on a dog that was more polar bear than man’s best friend. She couldn’t help but notice Deedee looked like a princess from an animated movie she made Miriel watch the other night.
Deedee shrugged, as if
Disoriented, I sit up and nudge Matteo’s calico off my pillow. With a grunt and a stiff push, I ease out of bed and pull open the curtain. A hint of morning flushes pale shadows from the woods. With my canvas apron wrapped tight, I pull on the sweater by the door and slide
Read it now
A school is as good a place as any to hide from an interdimensional bounty hunter.
I sprinted down one side of a crumbling hallway while Zeke took the other, looking for somewhere secluded to try to fix the transporter.
Zeke’s dimension had been a lot like this one—similar to mine
“Never let crime lords get bored,” Ethel instructed her cat, Fresco.
The fluffy feline blinked his blue eyes. “Why?” a robotic voice projected from the small box attached to his collar.
“They always want more.” Her brain pieced together the words as if she were setting type, her raspy voice printing them out once
Given his lifetime as a master chef of interplanetary travel, Gurfin knew there was always magic in his ingredients. But this time, he did not know, nor did he really care, where they would land after the wormhole eventually opened.
Some recipes required mastery—others he created simply to taste. The stew before him
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