“I thought you said this would be easy.”
The frustrated undertone in Jo’s voice rang out across the entire car. Rebecca’s friend and partner, Jo, swerved to avoid a deer standing in the middle of the road. Rebecca had used the word “easy,” referring to their secret assignment as a “wiffle ball mission.” Now,
There’s an old adage that dogs are a man’s best friend. Leave it to humans to gloss over the fact that we cats are the literal guardians keeping their species alive.
“Dinah?” my girl Alice called to me as she lounged in the garden grass. As far as humans went, she wasn’t the worst.
Alice was feeling quite irritated with the world when she opened the front door and discovered a folded square of paper addressed to her upon the step. The message it contained looked like gobbledygook until she remembered she’d seen this sort of thing before. Holding it up to the mirror in the hall, she
Read it now
Alice slipped her helmet over her close-cropped hair and took the shuttle’s controls. When she was younger, she’d tinkered with the helmet, adding a holographic program to alter size perception, virtual reality games, and other novelties, all operated by her wrist comm. If only the helmet possessed a feature that could rescue her from
Read it now
It was another good morning in Miriel’s garden. Her dog, Matteo, lounged in all of his bulk at her feet. She liked big animals, whether they be dragons or dogs. Since there were no dragons in the town, she settled for a big dog. She sipped her tea and admired her flowers. Her garden
Read it now
The moon hung low over Bramblewood, casting silvery light across dew-laced branches. It was quiet. Too quiet.
A hush had settled like a held breath, as if the forest itself was listening. Even the usual nighttime chorus of crickets had fallen silent, replaced by a stillness that pressed against Miriel’s senses. Something was coming.
A Dwarf could never be the Chosen One.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I down my third mug of hot fizzleberry juice in the Questers’ Lodge. My feet ache from my last Quest, and the juice slowly warms my insides.
Outside, trumpets toot a familiar tune. The next Quest Call.
“A bowl of stew can’t save the world, sis.”
Miriel Takkenridge slammed a pot on the stove. “How about you leave the world saving to me, Todd?” Frowning, she diced two onions before her eyes had a chance to water. “Unless you’ve been crowned Chosen One in this universe?” Her chopping stilled as she
“Middon, report,” Chief Commander Phezznibbet Maplebark ordered his second in command. He adjusted his bandolier of knives, the leather strap rubbing his fur the wrong way as the fellow Xintixa saluted him. “At ease. What’s the news?”
“The Xintixling and her mother are being surrounded by the Bittlian in the western quadrant of the
My heart pounds against my ribs. I am oddly aware of the blood laboring through my veins. My head feels like it’s floating, not actually attached to my body.
I’ve been poisoned. I can only seem to fill my lungs halfway. My limbs don’t respond when I try to move them. Voices slowly seep
“Mama?” a scared, little voice called.
Phezznibbet Maplebark’s ears twitched, his paw closing around the bottom knife in his bandolier. He poked his head around the slimy dumpster that hid him. At the front of the alleyway stood a figure not much smaller than himself. It didn’t appear threatening, so he took a few
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
Recent Comments