Everything possible to be believed is an image of truth.— William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell There’s evidence of the map everywhere if you know where to look. Orpheus strums his lyre on his way into Hades to rescue Eurydice. Osiris, Odin, and Jesus Christ all serve their time in the lands of […]

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Content Note: body transformation/horror Irene traced her gloved finger down the window, following one of the raindrops as it slid left, its path forced by the speed of the train. The water stretched the sodden afternoon landscape into streaks of grey and green and brown. In her mind’s eye, she could see the layers of […]

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After he thumped on her entry for a third time with his wooden hand, Troll unlocked the door using the key Fox had given him and stepped into the apartment she had purchased on a quiet, dead-end lane off Coal Ember Street. She might be angry at an unexpected interruption, but it wasn’t like her […]

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The drums in the street called the Escola out and led them, pied-piper-like, down the hill to where the buses waited. Letícia looked up from her book–paper, ancient, but all she could afford–and felt a single tear roll down her cheek, cool in the February heat. Her sister Flavia poked her head into the room. […]

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Content warning: sexual content, drug use Lydia’s heat-swollen and sweat-sticky legs prickled under Creepy Clerk’s green-eyed gaze. Ignoring them, she filled her empty bottle from the water cooler, then chugged its contents until the aftertaste of vomit was gone. She knew what she must look like. Her eyes felt gritty, and the green-colored contacts she’d […]

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History was being made. It was being made in the cold and lively city of Glasgow: dug out of archives, translated from handwriting, combed out of the cloud of digitised court records. It was being hammered out in study-bedrooms with Freecycled task chairs. It was refined in pubs whenever Ali Wishaw bought a friend a […]

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Lyssa She let her mask dissolve only in the ephemeral chill of the Starsea, where she was alone. Where she was not required to be Strisa, castellain of the Broken Fang. Not required to be Lissara, vapid noble of the Koruz desert. Or any of her masks and false names. Where she was just herself— […]

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There were two out-of-towners gawking at Adalène’s window when she sat down alone at the table in her shop. She’d had a pair of seamstresses to work for her, once upon a time, to do all the fussier piecing and hand-sewing. Sacred seas, she’d had customers once, too. A hundred years’ sleep had changed those […]

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