The Sleep Rider

Helen was discovered at dawn. She was sat at the edge of the Feyness Cliffs. Cold all through, fingers bunched to fists within the deep folds of her mam’s taatit blanket which she refused to surrender. Stripes of slime marked her legs from the traivels of slugs and snails. Her lips remained closed. Nae takkin... Continue Reading →


When Wizards Sing

He is old, older than anyone I have ever known.

The Dragon of the Bailey

Lhai sniffed the water in his trough. Was the poison in there? He couldn’t tell. He cursed, not for the first time, that the Maker had given dragons such a poor sense of smell.

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