Issue #137
December 26, 2013

Stitched Wings

Mother stepped close enough to plant a fleeting kiss. By habit, Madeline did not cringe from the fog of falsehoods that clothed Mother. Indeed, her very clothing was false. Mother could play the part of a proper lady better than any actress on stage, but she was neither. She was a scientist and a thief, and Madeline was not sure where one ended and the other began.

Whistler’s Grove

Arrel seizes my arm, shocking a yelp out of me. His talon-like grip hauls me upright. Tam’s question was answered, not Arrel’s. Celina’s life was taken, not mine. A bargain can still be made with the Whistler. Only now do I realize that this was planned all along.

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The Shiner Man’s covered wagon walked across the desert on six metal legs.
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