Daughter of Necessity
By day she crafts; by night she unmakes. Surely somewhere, in all the myriad crossings of the threads, there is a future in which all will be well. Marie Brennan offers an intriguing new spin on a …
A Dust Rag for Easter Eggs
Paris, under Nazi occupation: Little Zezette is sick and malnourished. Her friends want to help her get well again, but how? Louise has an idea, which begins with an old dust rag. A beautiful, bittersweet Easter story of love and sacrifice.
Rat-Catcher - Lightspeed Magazine
I knew she was there. Lenet believed she was stealthy, and would perhaps have been correct, had I not been the cat of the Duke’s Theatre for four long years. All the sounds that grand old building could make were known to me . . . including the sound of a barefoot Cait Sidhe girl stalking the rafters like the ghost of Hamlet’s father. The footsteps stopped above my head. “Rand,” Lenet hissed, voice pitched low to keep it from carrying to the audience below.
The Court Magician - Lightspeed Magazine
The boy who will become court magician this time is not a cruel child. Not like the last one, or the one before her. He never stole money from Blind Carel’s cup, or thrashed a smaller child for sweets, or kicked a dog. This boy is a market rat, which sets him apart from the last several, all from highborn or merchant families. This isn’t about lineage, or even talent. He watches the street magicians every day, with a hunger in his eyes that says he knows he could do what they do.
Tor.com is honored to reprint “Amicae Aeternum” by Ellen Klages, as featured in The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year: Volume 9—publishing May 12th from Solaris. Distant worlds, time tra…
The Chess Player
Old Farmer Dyhema likes playing chess: He always wins, and there is nobody in the village who can play as well as him. But when the Christ Child arrives unexpectedly on Christmas Eve for a game, things don’t go as they always have...
A Good Home - Lightspeed Magazine
I brought him home from the VA shelter and sat him in front of the window because the doctors said he liked that. The shelter had set him in safe mode for transport until I could voice activate him again, and recalibrate, but safe mode still allowed for base functions like walking, observation, and primary speech. He seemed to like the window because he blinked once. Their kind didn’t blink ordinarily, and they never wept, so I always wondered where the sadness went.
La Lune T’attend - Lightspeed Magazine
Even once a month, Arceneaux hated driving his daughter Noelle’s car. There was no way to be comfortable: He was a big old man, and the stick-shift hatchback cramped his legs and elbows, playing Baptist hell with the bad knee.