Featuring new cover art: “Lost Citadel,” by Jonas De Ro. The second and fourth stories and the free ebook versions will be released next Thursday, Oct. 11. The complete issue is available now on Kindle and at Weightless Books.
I snapped the flute in half across my knee. Junko’s scream drowned out the faint whistle and much louder crack of the flute coming apart. He dove toward me, nearly incoherent in rage. Kenji managed to trip him as he hurtled past, and Junko went sprawling, though he quickly scrambled back to his feet. “I’ll kill—”
I don’t think any human being can read the emotions of a fox spirit with complete confidence, but I was almost sure that the creature was confused.
"It’s not Yamada’s ability to discern the spirits that reveals the nature of the mystery, but his way of seeing into human hearts." —Lois Tilton, Locus online
"An Imperial Princess uses her curses sparingly," said Tib, but the narrow-eyed look she gave Safy was more skeptical than remonstrative. Safy knew that Tib doubted her affection for the arrogant Phenole very much--even more so since she had just met him--and could not see how such a curse would help Safy or anyone she did care about. Safy smiled. Let her wonder.
Safy laughed despite herself. "Unnatural? Of course I am."
"An amusing fantasy that casts a new light on the nature of the curse. " —Lois Tilton, Locus online
Before last Rain Day, he had thought any dreams of Manyara to be folly. He wasn't the tallest or the strongest among the near-men, and it was just him and his father since his mother's family had abandoned them after her death. What did he have to offer? A one-room hut, one crumbling fish-drying shed, a mere handful of frayed catch-baskets, and only one Fisher to fill them.
He slices through the thong on the cover of the fish basket. Hundreds of sunken eyes stare accusingly up at him.
Something deep within her stilled and she thought she would fall, because the world was tilting. But there was solid stone beneath her, and she set one foot upon it, then another, and then she was running back to the palace, heedless of everything but reaching her rooms. There were doors in her way; she flung them aside and halted only to snatch up the crown.
In that warmth, she came to remember, slowly, that here was the last place she had spoken.
"A complex web of stories, held together by love.... Beginning as a story of court intrigue, it grows in scope to embrace divinity. The costs of learning what is truly valuable are tragic, because some things can’t be recovered or compensated for." Recommended —Lois Tilton, Locus online
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It should be spring, the crows' dead eyes protest. It should be spring.
Dziko shaped their son, and Terra shaped their daughter.