"Recapitulation in Steam," by Margaret Ronald
Izzy pushed himself up, trying to see. A flickering light like the reflection of moonlight on the ocean cascaded over the hall, and through it shadows darted like knife-edged fish--Society guards, he realized a little late, moving between him and the light. A gentle roar and boom heralded the trundler automaton's actions: settling down again, after whatever it had done to contain someone.
"Mamafield," by Corie Ralston
I finally scent Leaver at far edge of mamafield, past where my roots have ever dug. I don't feel safe so far outcircle, but he's traveled alone for years. He's been so far outside we wouldn't even scent his death. And that's what he deserves.
Audio Fiction Podcast 052
"Two Pretenders," by Marie Brennan, from BCS #60
He had sworn never to speak of it, not to anyone, but his tongue betrays him in an instant. "Sometimes I think I’ve been here before. In my dreams...I have the strangest dreams." He pauses, fighting not to say more, and into that pause comes the young man's quiet answer. "Dreams of this place. Not this cell--a proper chamber, with a proper bed, and servants, and no shackles. But a prison just the same."
From the Archives:
"More Full of Weeping Than You Can Understand," by Rosamund Hodge, from BCS #53
For the first few years, she only passed information, while the reports of faery incursions began to grow. Then--when they went to London for Violet's introduction into society--three things happened. The faeries turned the Prime Minister's fingers into twigs and his eyes into acorns. Papa died. And Thomas discovered what she was.
"Two Pretenders," by Marie Brennan, from BCS #60
He had sworn never to speak of it, not to anyone, but his tongue betrays him in an instant. "Sometimes I think I’ve been here before. In my dreams...I have the strangest dreams." He pauses, fighting not to say more, and into that pause comes the young man's quiet answer. "Dreams of this place. Not this cell--a proper chamber, with a proper bed, and servants, and no shackles. But a prison just the same."
From the Archives:
"More Full of Weeping Than You Can Understand," by Rosamund Hodge, from BCS #53
For the first few years, she only passed information, while the reports of faery incursions began to grow. Then--when they went to London for Violet's introduction into society--three things happened. The faeries turned the Prime Minister's fingers into twigs and his eyes into acorns. Papa died. And Thomas discovered what she was.
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