“We found something,” Matias began. He had rehearsed what he would say and was determined now to watch their expressions. To see if this was a revelation for them—or if they already knew. “We’re expanding the palace kitchens, putting in a new hearth and tables. The builders knocked out a wall—turns out it was a closet that had been sealed up. In the closet was a body.”

The Poet Laureate was fetched from his retirement in a lighthouse on the far shore of the Founder Mer to compose a song of eighty-six interlocked stanzas like steps on a stairway spiraling down into a cool dim quiet. But on the forty-seventh stanza of its recitation, the Governor squinted into the space over the Poet's shoulder and said, "listen, any deeper and we shall hear the words those beasts sing as they pass" and demanded that the previous stanzas be read in reverse; "back to the surface," he said.

Gorel could smell the sea. It was always there, the water like a black mirror, upon which glided the enormous black ships with the seven-pointed star on their hulls. From time to time spells crackled in the air above the port. Wind-mages and speakers-to-whales and astrologer-navigators and sun-talkers and battle-sorcerers with the power to level whole cities. Goliris’s fleets sailed across the World and brought the civilising influence of the empire to its furthest reaches. They came back laden with the World’s goods; with all the riches the World had to offer.

The three stare at me—Hayrick, Handsy, and Ben whose name I wish I didn’t have to know. I want them to believe me, to see the possibility, to think about the smiling faces they’d seen while pestering the market-goers and stall-keepers, and how little their targets had been frightened. Sometimes young men like these Boys do listen. Sometimes all they need is to be shown a new direction. But this time, my best isn't enough.

Author: Laura Jarosz “Whaddya mean, gone? Like, dead?” Dante shrugged. “The safehouse was totally empty. Door hanging open, no Homer inside. No stories, either.” I pressed my hand against my pocket and felt the reassuring crinkle of paper. At least I still had last week’s story. As I walked numbly away, I let my eyes […]

Author: Martin Clyde-Wilkie There’s an angel outside town, if you know where to look. Push through the gorse and scramble along the river bed, keeping your gaze away from the branch of lightning frozen over the gully, until you reach the edge and can peer down at it. It doesn’t look much like you’d expect. […]

Author: Jackson Lanzer “Do you ever just want to feel sad?” A young woman said, looking into the eyes of a young man. “Sometimes it’s all I want to feel,” he responded. “Sometimes sadness is even sweeter than the purest joy.” The man and woman strolled up to a ticket office. Their faces were illuminated […]

Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer The two personages in blue suits look at me like I’m an ornament. One that grandma got from her mama, only kept because of that, and never found a soul who liked it anyway. Tall blue suit flicks a glance towards skinny blue suit, who’s standing slightly behind and to […]

Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer The woman with the crossbow spits into the fire. “I don’t understand why they didn’t just reboot the computers as soon as it started.” Her sidekick nods, pushing their cap back before joining in. “Reckon a lot of them eye-tee types were in on it. Musta been.” The man next […]

Author: Majoki When the founders of Providence made planetfall, they had but one credo to establish their new civilization on the uninhabited world: Blind ignorance is unfortunate. Willful ignorance is shameful. Manufactured ignorance is unforgivable. Two hundred forty-one local years later, when the invading conquerors of Providence divvied up the planet, they wondered why the […]

Author: David Barber The man in the window seat on the late train from London is Charles Biggins. This is before he became a hero. He’d been to see As You Like It and was enjoying having the carriage quietly to himself when a man settled into the seat opposite. “Mr Charles Biggins?” Charles’ gaze […]

Author: Antonio DIsi Yesterday, I turned forty, without even realizing it. My life has become an endless sequence of days and nights, of bicycle deliveries, all dictated by an unrelenting app. Every morning, I wake up not knowing what the day holds. The only clue is my smartphone, incessantly vibrating, announcing new orders to deliver. […]

Author: Mikki Aronoff Our vinyl patches proclaim our purpose. ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MINERAL WE WATCH THEM ALL DECIDE WHO PASSES We are birthed to serve, groomed to wait and watch, to scrutinize and assess. We follow guidelines. Detractors regard us as arbitrary, but if we were not here to filter, what would this world be? We […]

Dear Aunt Harriet, If you’re reading this note it means you survived. That’s wonderful news: I always loved you the most. The notes I sent out with Aunt Anita and the cousins are friendly letters, I promise, us being kin and all, and I surely hope they survive too. But I’m happiest about you.

Tor.com is honored to reprint “Amicae Aeternum” by Ellen Klages, as featured in The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year: Volume 9—publishing May 12th from Solaris. Distant worlds, time travel, epic adventure, unseen wonders, and much more! The best, most original and brightest science fiction and fantasy stories from around the globe from Read More »

In a new Little Brother story, when schools make war on their own students, something has to give . . .

In a new Little Brother novella, there is no security in obscurity. But there can be redemption in mutual aid.

Window Boy by Thomas Ha

On the island of Manhattan, there’s a building out of time. I can’t tell you where it is, exactly. It has an address, of course, as all buildings do, but that wouldn’t mean anything to you. What I can tell you is that the building is called The Oakmont.

Imagine: Purple-Haired Girl Shooting Down the Moon by Angela Liu

Better Living Through Algorithms by Naomi Kritzer

While learning the ropes from a crafty Jazz Age bank robber, a young stowaway discovers their authentic self, a hidden gift, and that there are no straight lines when you run the fox roads...

When Hurston Hill is threatened by a suspiciously powerful urban development firm, Miss l'Abielle steps up to protect her community with the help of a mysterious orphaned girl in this charming follow-up to “St. Valentine, St. Abigail, St. Brigid,” featured on LeVar Burton Reads.

Ada's holiday trip to meet her girlfriend's family becomes a bit more fraught than usual when she discovers the family’s unusual Christmas Eve tradition...

Phosphorescence by Ben Berman Ghan

Rugg was ready to turn back and try to make Ganvill when a bright dot of light appeared through the churning murk of the storm: a campfire. Never trust a light too bright in a dark hole, the speaking goes, but then he smelled roasting meat. And then he heard the flute. A sweet, sad little song, a flutter of music. Bone flutes had a tone distinct from those carved of wood or reed; lonelier, somehow. A sweet breath of music sighing out to the wild.

History was being made. It was being made in the cold and lively city of Glasgow: dug out of archives, translated from handwriting, combed out of the cloud of digitised court records. It was being hammered out in study-bedrooms with Freecycled task chairs. It was refined in pubs whenever Ali Wishaw bought a friend a […]

The dose hits, blindsiding me with a gentle, warm light, and at once each of my trembled breaths is filled with a sweet taste like water ice. I will float over every ache and smooth over every edge until I indulge in the deliberate, ponderous, redshifted joy of living. And indulge it is. Even though […]