Read Online Fiction: Fresh Reads Daily

Dawn started to say something, but Edie beat her to it. She crossed her arms and took a step forward, glaring at Professor Lal. “Why not?” she demanded.

Professor Lal shook her head, not in the least intimidated or abashed by Edie’s anger. “It is not a thing that can be done.”

“I’m sure you can stop us if you want to,” said Corrie. “But at least explain to us why first.”

“I intend to,” said the professor. With a tiny movement of her head, she was now looking fiercely at the little old faerie lady. “And you go back in. You are not to show yourself to students.”

read more

"It's not that bad," said a voice at the door. Twenna looked up. It was a woman about her own age, her chestnut hair twisted into a low, simple bun. Her snub nose sat in a face neither pretty nor plain. She wore a lay Mother's uniform, the same as the one in Twenna's bundle: ugly loose gray high-necked dress collared in white; a voluminous unbleached muslin apron tying it closer to the body; and a plain wool shawl still the color of the sheep, its ends crossed over her breast and pinned behind her. In a canvas sling before her slept a baby not much older than Rikki, or so Twenna guessed; all she could see was white-blond fuzz and an obstinate little nose exactly like its mother's.

read more

Corrie led them to the hall where the magic professors’ offices were. It was dark, with no light showing through any of the doors. They must have all gone home, or wherever it was the faeries went at night. They walked to the end of the hall, and Corrie knocked confidently on the door.

“Are you sure she’s there?” Edie asked softly.

“She’s always been there before,” Dawn said. “Even when all the other magic professors are gone. I think she lives there.”

read more

Hao Fei winced at the stinging in his wrists and tried to shift his bound hands into a more comfortable position. Li lay unmoving on the ground nearby, a purple lump swelling on the side of his head. He had been unconscious for some time now, and Hao had begun to fear that he wouldn’t wake. A chance to examine the injury might have eased Hao’s mind, but every time he tried to get a closer look, the pirate Li called Delicate Lotus would glower and kick at him until he moved back. Two or three additional bruises had been enough to convince the diplomat to stop trying, but what pained Hao most was the irony: that after years of dealing with Zhang's messes, he would be killed by brigands now, far from civilization and even farther from home. And every bit of it would be his fault.

read more