From Modern Mythcraft to Magical Surrealism

CHOSEN ONES

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Fiction

Fiction

Miss Carstairs and the Merman

by Delia Sherman

The night Miss Carstairs first saw the merman, there was a great storm along the Massachusetts coast. Down in the harbor town, old men sat in taverns drinking hot rum and cocking their ears at the wind whining and whistling in the chimneys.

Miss Carstairs and the Merman by Delia Sherman (art by Sandra Buskirk)

In Oct. 2014 (Issue 58)

Fiction

The Scrimshaw and the Scream

by Kate Hall

The morning after she lost her art, Felicity sat at her speckled mirror, inspecting the glossy, gray-white feathers covering her cheeks and forehead.

The Scrimshaw and the Scream by Kate Hall (illustrated by K.A. King)

In Oct. 2014 (Issue 58)

Fiction

Vici

by Naomi Novik

“Dragon-slaying is an honorable death, and generally quick, from my understanding; and will legally clear your debts. Unless you would prefer to commit suicide?” he inquired.

Vici by Naomi Novik

In Dec. 2011 (Issue 57)

Fiction

Crystal Halloway and the Forgotten Passage

by Seanan McGuire

The dire bat’s headless body lay on the floor of the cave like an accusation, blackish blood still seeping from its neck. Crystal looked at it and shuddered, disgusted, before giving it a sharp kick.

Crystal Halloway and the Forgotten Passage by Seanan McGuire

In Dec. 2011 (Issue 57)

Fiction

Torn Away

by Joe R. Lansdale

The license was invalid by a couple of months, and the photo on it looked somewhat like him but it was faded and not reliable. I told him so. “Oh,” he said. “I should have noticed it was out of date.”

Torn Away by Joe R. Lansdale

In Dec. 2011 (Issue 57)

Fiction

Her Lover’s Golden Hair

by Nike Sulway

Lily’s hand is not resting carelessly in her lap. Lily’s sandy feet are not up on the dashboard. Lily’s salty hair is not blowing into a knotted, lovely mess.

Her Lover's Golden Hair by Nike Sulway

In Dec. 2011 (Issue 57)

Fiction

The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death

by Ellen Kushner

Curious, he had asked the wounded man, “Did you slam into me on purpose?” People did sometimes, to provoke a fight with Richard St. Vier, the master swordsman who wouldn’t take challenges from just anyone.

The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death by Ellen Kushner

In Nov. 2011 (Issue 56)

Fiction

Red Dawn: A Chow Mein Western

by Lavie Tidhar

The boy felt a tingling at the tip of his fingers. He saw with his inner eye: The leader rode unarmed because his power was great. The aura of Qi around him was unmistakable.

Red Dawn: A Chow Mein Western by Lavie Tidhar

In Nov. 2011 (Issue 56)

Fiction

Christopher Raven

by Theodora Goss

Why had I come back to Collingswood? That was what I asked myself, standing on the path that led to the main school building, a structure built of gray stone and shadowed by oaks that had stood for a hundred years.

Christopher Raven by Theodora Goss

In Nov. 2011 (Issue 56)

Fiction

Seven Spells to Sever the Heart

by K.M. Ferebee

Samuel Crewe was the son of a witch. He was, in fact, the seventh son of a witch, who had herself been one of seven daughters. In fairy tales, this sort of lineage was meant to point to great strength, good fortune, and adventures.

Seven Spells to Sever the Heart by K.M. Ferebee

In Nov. 2011 (Issue 56)