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The Topaz Marquise Fran Wilde Her words made no sense, but neither did the lost hours. I shivered in the warmth of the day. Beyond the window, in the square, I saw a familiar figure in a tattered cloak. Even from a floor up, the smell that greeted me was unpleasant: unwashed hair, perhaps rotting leather. Suddenly, I wanted to escape from my studio and the chill that hung over it. What Needs to Burn Sylvia Anna Hivén When I woke, I found the bullet between my wound and the makeshift bandage. The flesh was already closing where my body had spit it out. I pulled off the bandage and cursed a colorful tirade at Shadow, although I knew it wasn't his fault. People with the magic can't help it sometimes. Things just happen around them, though they might not want it to. Audio Vault: One Ear Back Tina Connolly Audio Player Podcast: Download (Duration: 37:32 — 25.77MB) Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | RSS From the Archives: Red Dirt Ian McHugh The collective growl of the spinning weighted ropes mimicked the song that had invaded our sleep.
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