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The Wistful AshesThe stone of the Mirror Gate did not reflect light; it absorbed it, a jagged scar in the side of the Ashen Reach where the world ended and the grey nothing began. I pressed my chisel against the surface, the cold bit of steel biting into my palm, and watched as a hairline fracture spread through the obsidian-like face of the barrier. I was thirty-two years old, and I had spent the last six...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful ThroneCedric’s hand tightened around the stem of his goblet, the cold glass biting into his palm as he watched Lord Vane slice a wedge of roasted boar. The meat was dark and glistening, the fat rendering into a pool of grease that spread across the silver platter like a slow, oily tide. The great hall of Ashworth Castle was thick with the smell of roasting pork, stale wine, and the damp wool of forty...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful ThroneElias, get down from that ledge. The voice was not in my head, nor did it come from the mouth of the foreman, Kael, who stood below with his arms crossed over a chest that seemed too large for his coat. It rose from the seat of the chair I had just vacated, a low, rusted hum that vibrated through the soles of my boots and up into the hollow of my knees. It was Martha’s voice, or the memory of...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale DanceChapter One "Notice of Quota Failure: Repair Interval Exceeded. Penalty: Seizure of Habitat Rights." The words burned on the thermal paper, a red heat that seemed to radiate from the ink itself, searing Hassan bin Hassan’s retina as he woke, the taste of salt and iron thick on his tongue. He was twenty-four, and his hands were shaking, not from the fever that had gripped him for three days, but...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant NightmareThe old quarter of Istanbul moves like a body that has forgotten how to sleep, the streets packed with the weight of history and the noise of commerce. It is a city of stone and water, where the Bosphorus cuts the land in two and the fog rolls in thick as wool, swallowing the minarets one by one. I am Ali Ozkan, and I have nine fingers, a fact that the city seems to remember better than I do....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded AlibiChapter One Could a man really forget the weight of a ring? Refugio Villaseñor stood in the doorway of the distillery watchman’s shack, looking out at the mangrove shore where the mud was high and the crabs were scuttling in the February false spring, the air heavy with rotting vegetation and old gasoline. He was forty-two, a man whose life had been built on the single, fragile client of the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CircuitWichai Phromma looked back on the winter of his ruin from the dry end of the year, when the wind split the fruit on the trees and the air tasted of dust and old paper. He remembered the weight of the gold in his pocket, a cold, heavy thing that did not warm in his hand, and the way his wife’s face had looked at him, clear and strange, like a window washed clean of its grime. The town of Chao...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant WoundThe red wax seal cracked under the pressure of Silas Vane’s thumb, a small, sharp sound in the otherwise silent room that smelled of dried lavender and old paper. He held the stamp with both hands, his knuckles white, staring at the document that lay open on the heavy oak desk, the ink still wet and glistening like a fresh bruise. This was the final redaction for Elara’s case, the one that...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden MasterChapter One "You are late, Idris binte Ahmad, and the light is wrong for the vault." Minister Rahman stood at the far end of the catwalk, his shadow stretched long and thin by the harsh halogen strips that hummed in the dry cold of the Ministry of Heritage. Idris adjusted the strap of her pressure suit, the third repair patch holding the seam at her shoulder with a grim, fibrous strength. She...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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