Starting Over

100 words
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Will gazed into the face across from him, its pallor softened by the candlelight. He hadn’t spoken to Bran, hadn’t dared to, in ten years, yet here they were at this party, hitting it off just like the first time.

No, not just like. Bran’s whole demeanor revealed that he was interested in Will in a way neither of ( Read more... )

Move on, Walker.

And, forcing himself with an immense effort to move one leaden foot after another, he did.

Lifeless?

100 words
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“I’m too old for this,” I thought, sipping some tea from my thermos. I rubbed my stiff hands together, trying to work some life back into them. Every year I told myself it was my last Making, but come next year, there I was again.

I caught sight of the city girl staring at the Greenwitch’s head, and the look in her eyes ( Read more... )

Safe

100 words
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“Alice-”

“Hmm?” Alice Stanton rolled over in bed to face her husband.

“Alice, why do you think Will was so set on covering the house with holly today? He was so insistent. It almost seemed like he was afraid something bad would happen if he didn’t.”

“Oh, I don’t know dear. Probably some silly thing he read in one of ( Read more... )

Gone

100 words
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“The Light’s gone.”

Will’s head snapped up, and he fixed Barney with a piercing stare.

“What did you say?” he asked, careful to keep his voice casual. Three days had passed since the Battle at the Tree, and none of the others had shown any signs of remembering.

Barney turned away from the window and held up his sketch pad ( Read more... )

Will sat back in his armchair by the fire, mug of mulled cider warming his hands. For once, there was no stack of papers to be corrected, no research proposals to read. Tonight, he allowed himself to get lost in the beautiful music coming from his radio, broadcasting the annual Festival of Nine Lessons and Carol’s from King’s College, Cambridge. ( Read more... )

Will stumbled through darkness, straining toward the pinprick of brilliant light that seemed to recede even as he approached. The path under his feet grew bumpy, and he almost fell.

Bending down, he could barely make out a hand, then, slowly, the rest of the lifeless body he had tripped against. It was the Walker. Straightening up, suddenly he ( Read more... )

“Two pounds sixty-three,” the young woman behind the counter announced cheerfully.

Alice Stanton paused, suddenly uncertain. Despite her best efforts to summon up a mental image of the official conversion chart she had clipped from the newspaper, she was drawing a complete blank. “I’m sorry,” she finally admitted, “but could you tell me what that ( Read more... )

3:30 a.m. The wood was dark, and the men in the railway carriage were cold and terribly exhausted. The door to the compartment slid open, and an old man in a civilian overcoat bowed slightly to the men inside.

“Meine Herren, Maréchal Foch has arrived.”

He stepped aside, and the well-groomed figure of the Maréchal appeared in the doorway.

“Thank ( Read more... )

Bran ran, until he could remember no longer, until he felt only pain, and the overpowering urge to continue his aimless flight. Half-conscious, he stumbled across the root of an oak tree, and looked up to see a gravel path lined with juniper leading to modest, solid house. For the first time in as long as he could remember, the pain within him ( Read more... )