From Modern Mythcraft to Magical Surrealism

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Fiction

The Little Lame Prince, Part I (Classic Reprint)

According to the custom of the country, there were chosen for him four-and-twenty god- fathers and godmothers, who each had to give him a name, and promise to do their utmost for him. When he came of age, he himself had to choose the name — and the godfather or god- mother — that he liked the best, for the rest of his days.

Fiction

Reading by Numbers

In case your mother has neglected your education I should explain about vampire numbers. They are numbers with an even number of digits that can be equally divided into two so-called fangs. These fangs are factors of the number and contain all of the digits of the original number.

Fiction

Author Spotlight: Christie Skipper Ritchotte

A neighbor showed me the trick when I was ten, and let me in on the whole Magician’s Code thing. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone how to do the trick, but I caved immediately. Don’t ever show me how a trick is done; I’ll show everyone.

Fiction

My Best Friend’s Girl

There. You summoned me and I came. No one twisted your arm. No one made you take your friend’s equipment. No one made you sign the contract with your blood.

Fiction

The Confessions of Prince Charming

Once upon a time: My mama always told me to stay away from princesses, and I guess I should have listened and gone into the wizarding business, but there was an opening for princes when I graduated from charm school, and I didn’t know at the time that princesses came with the job . . .

Fiction

A Song to Greet the Sun

He used the natleoc, the stick of thorns covered in dust and spores above his doorway, for that was what the priests prescribed and he would have this done as the gods demanded. She did not cry when the sharp points broke her skin, and so he hit her a second time . . .

Fiction

In Dreams Tangible

Laurel wanders from place to place, scattering seeds of doubt wherever she goes. She makes people doubt the reality of the world, weaves illusions that have more depth than reality can ever have. She is a dream weaver . . .

Fiction

Undocumented

On hot afternoons, mother took us to the shore of the river. While mother sat, watching my elder brothers play on the bank, I told her stories. They always began the same way: “There is an island in the river of gold where there is a castle. Everyone there is rich and happy and there are no slaves.”

Fiction

La Mer

The ocean slid towards him, tempting him, ushering him towards it. When it retreated he saw it had left him a gift—a single carp, stained with pollution. Its mouth begged numbly for help as it cut into the rough sand . . .

Fiction

Clockatrice by Tanith Lee (audio)

Poor girl. Beautiful Diana, named for a goddess, and barely sixteen years of age. Just after midnight she descended through through the gardens to meet her lover. And before any clock could strike one, she was as beautiful as she was dead.