Issue #221
March 16, 2017

In the Shade of the Pixie Tree

Bekka snorted at the absurdity, then clamped a hand over her mouth at the unladylike noise. Joakem didn’t notice. "I’m an apprentice, not a familiar. And Miriam Cow-nose doesn’t have enough sense to fill a baby’s belly-button. The witch chose me because I’m smart and talented."

Crescendo

“Slowly now,” Thalie said. The children knew the danger of the ever-opening and quickly closed Holes of the City. They had seen safety nets go up, springing from the ground like whiteclusters after rain. Last summer, a Hole had opened right in front of Three-Hill Nest, and the crib-siblings had spent an afternoon watching Fillers pour wagonloads of dirt-brown forget into a Hole no larger than a loaf of black bread.

Audio Fiction Podcast:
In the Shade of the Pixie Tree
Play

Podcast: Download (Duration: 28:43 — 19.72MB)
Subscribe: iTunes | Android | Google Play | RSS | More

She closes tear-drenched eyes, thinks back to a time when a word, a look, a nod could have made a difference.
From the Archives:
Over a Narrow Sea
It's not mutton burning, of course; it's all my uncle's counselors, champions, and guests trapped under the rubble of the fortress.