0 Comments
0 Shares
1 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Distant NightmareI. People think silence is a void, but it is a debt. I have paid it in full, in the form of my name. Opal Yancey, thirty-two, formerly a Royal Guard captain, now a man with a medical bill on a payment plan and a trophy for a league that folded. The court called it treason. Vane called it conspiracy. I called it duty, though the words felt like ash in my mouth. The Weeping Stone stood in the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CipherThe iron key sat in Elias’s palm, warm as a freshly baked roll, humming with a low frequency that vibrated through the bone of his thumb. It was a small, brutal thing, its head carved with a sequence of numbers that seemed to shift when he blinked, and it had replaced the body of his twin brother Julian in the plague ward. The year was 1342, and the moon was high, a pale coin hanging over the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale GardenGethin Havard was thirty-four years old and owed the generation ship a berth mortgage that bled out of his lungs every time the air recyclers cycled down to their lowest, suffocating hum. I arrived at the coastal estate on the night the humidity hit eighty percent, the kind of wet that rots film and rusts hinges, standing on the spit of land where the Welsh valleys had eroded into a jagged...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ParadoxAct I "You’re late." Etienne Noel wiped the dust from the glass, his rag leaving streaks of grime that looked like scratches. The bell buoy outside groaned, a low, wet sound that vibrated through the floorboards of the warehouse. He was thirty-four, a junior archivist with a coat that had seen better winters, and he had three days left on his contract. The Mirror of Saint Jude stood in the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassThe digital clock on the wall of Conference Room 4B ticked four, then five, then six minutes past two, each second a small, heavy weight dropping onto the white table where Elias Thorne sat. He was thirty-four years old, a structural engineer with twelve years of service and a reputation for meticulousness that had, until this morning, been his only currency. In his left hand, he clutched a...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BonsaiAct I My hands were already in the soil, pressing the damp earth into the roots of the pale bonsai as if I could squeeze life back into the wood, and the smell of wet clay rose from the pot to mix with the stale air of the room where Signor Morosini lay breathing shallowly in the bed by the window. The tree was my penance, a small, twisted thing I had found in a market three months ago, and I...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SongThe steam rises from the grates of Oakhaven in long, shivering columns, and you watch it dance against the gaslight, knowing with a sick, absolute certainty that it is not just water vapor but the breath of the dead. You are Elias Thorne, a constable of thirty-four years, and you have not slept properly in three months because the Golden Song is eating you alive. It hums in the walls of your...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful LetterBlackwater Valley moved in the dark, a grinding exhalation of coal dust and diesel that coated the lungs of every soul in the prefecture. The sky hung low, a bruised purple that never quite resolved into day, pressing down on the observation blister where the surveyors worked. Tao Xu sat in the center of this industrial hum, his hands stained with iron-gall ink, trying to keep the lines of his...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden RitualChapter One The dawn in Taipei did not break so much as it seeped, a grey bruise spreading across the lane houses where the old wooden shutters creaked in unison with the tram line that had recently bisected the district, raising rents and lowering spirits in equal measure. In the shadow of the new infrastructure, the air hung heavy with the scent of wet clay and the metallic tang of the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek