The Chaos Village – Part 2 By M.K. Hutchins Sarsa was cooking some kind of coarse flatbread — it appeared to be made of wild roots and ground wild seeds — on a griddle slanted up toward the storage pit. Her hut was mostly empty otherwise, packed up into neat baskets still sitting outside the …

All of the Cuddles With None of the Pain By J. J. Roth What is a Reborn? A Reborn is an artist-enhanced baby doll that looks and feels lifelike. Artists create Reborns as one-of-a-kind collectibles, often from ordinary play dolls transformed into art suitable for hands-off display—or hands-on cuddling. While reasonably durable, Reborns are not …

In Spring, the Dawn. In Summer, the Night. By Aidan Doyle It always seems to me that people who hate me must be suffering from some strange form of lunacy. – Sei Shōnagon, The Pillow Book, Circa 1000 C.E. On the third day of the third month, the good people of court traveled by ox-drawn …

Zilal and the Many-Folded Puzzle Ship By Charlotte Ashley When Zilal Saleebaan Kamal was six years old, she built her first ship in a bottle. It was a fully-articulated craft of sandalwood and brass with eighteen oars that rowed in unison when the bottle was tipped to and fro. Her father presented it to the …

Shadow Man, Sack Man, Half Dark, Half Light By Malon Edwards You keep running, even though you know you can’t escape the fifty-foot-tall Pogo. But you were built for this. You are taller than all of the girls and most of the boys in your Covey Four class. Your legs are longer. Your steam-clock heart is …

Blackbird Pastry by Megan Branning Sing a song of sixpence A pocket full of rye. Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing. Wasn’t that a dainty dish To set before the king? A dainty dish? Oh, I suppose, but did you never wonder how …

A Whisper in the Weld By Alix E. Harrow Isa died in a sudden suffocation of boiling blood and iron cinder in her mouth; she returned to herself wearing a blue cotton dress stained with fresh tobacco. She was younger and leaner, as she’d been when she first met Leslie Bell. Her skin shone dark and …

Maiden, Mother, Crone By Ann Leckie and Rachel Swirsky The mule nipped at Marjan’s hand as she burdened it with her packs. She pushed its nose away, careful not to hurt it. She needed the mule to be well. Her life — and her unborn child’s — depended on it. She led the mule outside the stable …

Bonsai by Shaenon K. Garrity Uterine cancer, the doctor is saying, and the world ends. Stage Four. That means advanced. It means bad. Your arms and legs and throat go numb. All you can hear is his question, looping: when was your last exam? You can’t remember. Not that it matters now. In cases like yours …

The Narcomancer by N.K. Jemisin “Death is not a Gatherer’s business,” Cet said. Did the woman realize how greatly she had insulted him and all his brethren? For the first time in a very long while, he felt anger stir in his heart. “Peace is our business. Sharers do that by healing the flesh. Gatherers deal with the soul, …

Help Summon the Most Holy Folded One! by Harry Connolly You’ve Heard The Experts How many styles of taco are there? Not just fish/pork/beef/chicken, but also puffed, breakfast, even Chocotacos (if you can stand the very thought). There are disagreements over whether they should be made with corn or flour tortillas, whether they should be …

The Fall Shall Further the Flight In Me By Rachael K. Jones There are things that fly and things that fall. You must remember this distinction, because they are not the same. Devils are flying things that learn to fall. Lovers are falling things that learn to fly. Do not confuse them. Saints do not …

Folk By Eden Royce In a place beyond far, my braids are woven into the sweetgrass basket encasing me and I am surrounded by the scent of the ocean and its dead. A crack of light breaches my intricate prison and I shift, twist only a fraction, to take advantage of its brightness — there …

Seven Things That Oughtn’t Cut Me By Jessi Cole Jackson They say troll girls appear only in brilliant shades of armored green. Their skin is faceted, unpierceable, and gleams in the sunlight like emeralds. They say we cannot be drab or fragile. They say we cannot bleed. If only. 1. A volleyball, round and hurtling. …

Who Binds and Looses the World With Her Hands by Rachael K. Jones 1. Stranger On days when Selene locked me in the lighthouse, an old familiar darkness would well up within me, itching my skin like it had shrunk too tight to contain my anger any longer. I had grown accustomed to the rage’s …

Chasing Flowers by L. Chan Lian’s world is flat. Not just the landscape, which extends as far as the eye can see, horizon to horizon under the rolling twilight flux. Not just the houses, dotting the slate grey earth and the thunder cloud sky. Not just her folded servants, who used to pad around silently …

National Geographic on Assignment: The Unicorn Enclosure by Sarah Monette In the unicorn enclosure, all five unicorns are clustered along the fence, batting their long eyelashes beguilingly at a troop of girl scouts. The girls ooh and aah and argue about which one is prettiest, and the unicorns trail them patiently down the perimeter line. …

Six Jobs By Tim Pratt 1. Exterminator’s Helper I was eleven when a little man with watery eyes who blinked and sniffed all the time shuffled into my classroom, moving carefully, not brushing up against any desks or people. My teacher stood frozen with her hand pointed at a map of Africa, and the …

Properties of Obligate Pearls By L. S. Johnson You have to know what to look for. Younger, definitely — stones from the elderly are heavy and black, decades of layers dulling the luster. No one wants the weight of a grandmother’s worries around thei…

We roll into town on a bright sunny morning, steering the Caddy around the half-dozen streets that make up “downtown.” Three of us in the back dozing and the other two up front with our arms hanging out the windows, letting our fingers ride on the f…

PodCastle 430 Thundergod in Therapy - PodCastle via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2bfiuqd

PodCastle 532 Vetala - PodCastle via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2uH6Alh

An old man sat behind the dilapidated counter of the country store humming Negro spirituals as Grace walked in, sweaty from standing in the sun. Her new black dress clung to her like a frightened child and she plucked at its neckline with irritation…

“Hello,” answered some whiteman. “Good morning! Could I speak with—?” He mispronounced her last name and didn’t abbreviate her first, as nobody who knew her would do. “Young lady,” he said. “Can you please tell me whether Miss Jean-Louis is there or…

PodCastle 535: The Threadbare Magician — Part 1

PodCastle 536: The Threadbare Magician — Part 2

PodCastle 537: To the Moon

PodCastle 538: Itself at the Heart of Things

PodCastle 539: Godfall

PodCastle 540: Flash Fiction Extravaganza! The Three Phases of Equinox