(Fiction) The Seven Deaths of Harriet Chase

They call me Harry. Despite what you may have heard, I’m nothing special. Trust me. But after you make it through a couple bad jobs, word gets around. You get on some short lists. They call you again. For transports, mostly. Escorts. To be honest, I haven’t been too picky about the clientele lately, although... Continue Reading →

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(Fiction) The knife that killed Albert Gallagher twice

We descended into the bowels of the Keep of Solomon, running at full speed. If it hadn’t been so labyrinthine, with stone platforms and passageways erupting from each other at oblique angles, we might have been caught. Several of The Masters appeared, one at a time, at various turns, and I pulled Etude right and... Continue Reading →

(Fiction) The Winter Bureau

That was my welcome to America. Prison. Upon my release, I was placed into the custody of a man of ill health, ill fortune, and ill name: Spurgeon Fount, a parapsychologist-acolyte of Richard Hodgson—the man who, as an analyst for the Psychical Research Society, had discredited and disgraced HPB for speaking openly of The Masters.... Continue Reading →

(Fiction) The Ghost in the Labyrinth

After Beltran’s visit, some of my restrictions were lifted. I was not allowed to speak to Etude, and I had no idea where in the cavernous dungeons he was being held—the same dungeons where the Eye was discovered some seven centuries before. I was also kept from the high towers, where everything important seemed to... Continue Reading →

(Fiction) The Scent of Dreaming

As I ascended the ladder-like steps to the cupola, my mind was on thread and silk and how I wanted to look my best for Benjamin’s funeral. When I reached the top, I found that reaching the trap door to close it unfortunately required me to ascend halfway into the octagonal room, which was barely... Continue Reading →

(Fiction) A State of Immanent Corruption

You will thus understand my surprise when, after I was rescued from the attic in Whitechapel, the police informed that I had a solicitor and that he had secured for me an exit from a lengthy prison sentence. The solicitor, a Mr. Bentley, told me he was employed by another attorney, an American named Olcott.... Continue Reading →

(Fiction) The mizzen and the spyglass

My body was recovered, along with two others, by a young mizzen—nominally, a practitioner of “street magic,” by definition, bits of illusion and conjuring mixed with hexes and holistic alchemy. In truth, mizzenry was as much pickpocketing, sleight-of-hand, opportunistic theft, and con artistry as much as anything magical. But despite their reputations, the mizzen had... Continue Reading →

(Fiction) Sisters of the strange

I’m not sure I could impress upon you the effect this nameless boy had on me. After being flung by tragedy from all that I had known, from high nobility and a life without care, I saw in his daily contentment the truth that there is a place for each of us, and that solidified... Continue Reading →

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