The Mephit's Tales

“Wait, does it truly feel unpleasant?”

The speaker sat back on his heels, eyes widening in surprise – and, given that “it” was something he’d just been asking for, a touch of remorse.  It was a thing he’d thought so basic, so elementary, that the notion of someone disliking it hadn’t crossed his mind – but that was no excuse. With a lover, any lover, assumptions were never wise.

(more…)

I wasn’t expecting to see anyone there. I hadn’t come by the point since I started at university, but I was feeling moody, feeling a need to reconnect with where I’d been. So I left my bike parked and hiked up the trail with a lunch bag, expecting to spend a bit of quiet time there.

I wasn’t expecting to see him there – and by the surprise on his face when he looked over and saw me, neither was he. “Cale!” The otter scrambled up to his feet, crossed the modest distance at a dead run, and threw his arms around as he collided with me.

What else could I do? I hugged him back, hard, as though it could make up for the time we’d been apart. (more…)

The key turned smoothly in the lock; the door swung silently open.

The big, brown-haired man made his way in, moving slowly and stiffly, absently reaching back to push the door shut and turn the bolt. It was hard to believe this place was his, and yet here he was.

(more…)

“Does it ever seem to you,” Nathan sighed, “that our lives are just a little bit… bland?”

“What?” Melanie blinked at him. “Bland? Nathan, you can fly at will and freeze someone in ice by looking at them. Tim can stop time. I can jury-rig anything I can imagine and some things I didn’t. We spend our days stopping people who can start fires with a stare, walk through the walls of bank vaults, break into houses through the phone lines, and who knows what else. And you think our lives our bland? My God, do you even listen to yourself?”

“Okay, okay.” Nathan held up his hands. “Bad choice of word. But think about it, Mel. Back when Lady M was still in charge, she’d take us all over the world, we’d see and do everything. We’d put a stop to people raising actual zombies with a wave of their hands, not just turning computers into zombie boxes with a touch. We’d save cities, and all at once, not just one convenience store at a time. Everything she did was larger than life, and the same was true of the ones she set out to stop.”

(more…)

“If you could be anywhere right now,” said the red-haired girl, “where would it be?”

Murmurs went up and down the rows. Holiday resorts. Families. Idyllic destinations. More than a few settled for their own beds.

One big, brown-haired fellow just grunted.

“Come on, Matt,” urged the redhead. “There’s got to be some place you’d rather be than here, isn’t there?”

“Oh, sure there is, Jamie,” the big guy drawled. “But what’s the point in thinking about it?” He shrugged, lapsing into silence.

(more…)

Alan was cold, wet, sore, and had a pounding headache; all in all, not one of his better days.

Gingerly, he touched his brow, then his temples, then ran his fingertips over his scalp. There was a lump toward the back of his head that he quickly learned to avoid, but while his fingers got wet, they didn’t encounter anything sticky. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? (more…)

Adren twirled, letting his hair swirl around him, coal-black over his snowy, grey-spotted pelt. When it came to rest, a thick lock of it was hooked over his shoulder, running down his body and over his hip.

Not, he fancied, a horrible look for him, but he made no particular effort to keep it there when he straightened. No, he had no want of a studied, arranged appearance now; it was enough to know that his hair was as free of knots and tangles as he’d thought.

(more…)

It was supposed to be a routine day. No doubt it would have had some significant developments to deal with, but they would have been normal developments.

Having the expected “courier” from Northridge Fields turn out to be none other than Damion Northridge himself upset that routine in a hurry.

Servants bustled around, dusting, washing, mopping, in general tidying in a great hurry. The kitchen staff were called in early and immediately launched into frenzied activity. The butler took stock of available options and assembled a platter of refreshments and wine, which he personally bore at the Mistress’s side as the Northridge carriage came to a halt at the front portico.

(more…)

Karim eyed his sample jar with some rue.

There was a very light sheen to it – the faintest of glows, too dim to show as such in anything but deep darkness – but that was part of the preservative enchantment on the glass. Its contents were thick, opaque, and off-white.

“Aren’t you going to use it?” a voiced hissed in the great emptiness behind him. “After you went to such lengths to acquire it…”

“Having you watching me is not making this easier,” Karim shot back, anxiety putting an edge on his tone. He swallowed; this was not a being he wanted to offend, even if that being seemed to regard the whole business as wonderfully amusing.

(more…)

Eric dropped down to the dirt and took a breath of fresh air.

“Here we are,” the bobcat said, turning toward the back of the truck. “Off the grid for five days.”

“You sound way too happy when you say that,” Will teased from the other side of the truck. “Sure, it’s a pretty place and all that, but did you have to pick somewhere this isolated for our little weekend getaway? You saw that road, my poor truck barely made it up the road!”

“Yes, I did.” Eric grinned as he started undoing the cargo net. “I know you, man. If I’d picked somewhere closer – say, somewhere with electricity – you’d have been plugged in all weekend and we might as well not have bothered!”

(more…)

Darius was expecting a quiet day. Reach one city, drop off his packages, receive some new ones, move on – in all the time he’d been a courier, that was how his days had gone. Sometimes he stayed there for only a short time, sometimes longer, sometimes he spent the night; it all depended on how tired his beast was, and how far he could expect to get before nightfall. At the moment, he was looking forward to a warm meal, a cold drink, and a soft bed once he arrived at Gervin’s Vale.

His plans did not include the whiff of an arrow past Jadetalon’s wing, but this, in fact, happened.

(more…)

Snow was falling as she stepped out into the gardens. Already in covered the ground in a thick blanket of white, and still more fat flakes were drifting down, sparkling in the light of the lanterns.

She left her retainers at the door, striding slowly along the paths. The cobblestone mosaics were hidden under the snow, and the sweeping hem of her robe didn’t move nearly enough to make those patterns visible again; still, she had walked these paths more times than she could count, and in snow or summer, under sun or moon or stars, she could always find her way.

Beyond the stone walls, the city never slept. Here, though, all was tranquil and still. Not even birds disturbed the perfect silence of the night.

(more…)

What was I to do?

My sire the great horse-tamer delivered me into Bellerophon’s service. As Poseidon’s chosen, the man brought glory to himself, to me, and to his patron. Kings sent him to his doom for that which he had not done, and with the favour of the gods he met that doom and emerged triumphant. He could have been an inspiration to the just, a warning to the wicked. He could have owned honour beyond telling as a hero of the ages.

(more…)

Day 19, late evening.

Lots to take in lately. Too much. Will anyone believe me? Even with this feather I hardly believe it myself.

Got to try.

That feast the Davai have been preparing for the last eight days was today. Only see now just how extensive those preparations were. The food has just been the last few days – lots of it. Hunting, first – never knew so many beasties around here were edible. They’re economical about it, too, using everything they can, right down to tanning the hides. Stews and cuts of meat, spice breads, at least a dozen kinds of fresh fruit – incredible variety, all of it freshly harvested or found within an hour or two’s walk.

(more…)

It took Vernon longer than usual to find his name on the chore roster.

Granted, that was the result of habit. Different apprentices were at the Academy to study somewhat different things – all under the broad aegis of magic, yes, but there was little in common between a biomancer’s work and a pyromancer’s, say, beyond the very basic underpinnings. So, having seen his name confined to some sections of that roster for two and a half years, when the young man didn’t find his name there at first glance, he checked again – twice – before letting his gaze roam farther.

There it was. But…

He looked around. Off to his left was Rolund, the journeyman who taught the basic elements of conjuration; all things considered, that seemed like a good person to ask. “Pardon me, Instructor Rolund?”

(more…)