Let it Snow! Season's Readings for a Super-Cool Yule!

  "Your attempt at escape is entertaining," Terrocio mused, circling overhead.

  "My dear Terrocio,” she said. “Better than you have tried to capture me and failed. You would do well to quit while you are ahead." Sayenne felt the anger flush her cheeks as she rose to her feet.

  "You do have a sense of humor, little mouse. Brave words. You can barely stand."

  She looked up at the dragon. At this proximity she could feel him pulling magic into him, twisting the energy into a spell. With a deep breath she began forming the spell, weaving the words in her mind, the magic, and her will together. She released a fireball of her own, landing it square on Terrocio's jaw, where it exploded into a thousand shards of ice. The impact knocked the dragon from the sky, and he fell into the clearing, his cries of pain and surprise echoing through the hills.

  Sayenne fell to her knees as pain took her by surprise. Clasping her right arm below the wrist, a manacle made of light appeared.

  "No!"

  "Run little mouse, run." Terrocio laughed, but Sayenne could tell it was forced. "Without your magic, you will be easy prey."

  Sayenne felt her magic drain from her as she ran through the trees clutching her pendant. The light from the village houses cut through the night's darkness, just past the edge of the forest.

  If I can just make to the village.

  Sayenne's skin ripped open and hot blood ran down her back, freezing in the cold air before landing in the snow.

  "You have been caught," the dragon bellowed.

  The snow against her cheek felt refreshing. She squinted in the darkness, unable to surrender as she became aware of a mental tug at the back of her mind.

  A small figure stepped out from behind a tree. A boy.

  "Let her go!" he shouted, holding his toy sword with two gloved hands.

  "What is this?" Terrocio scoffed.

  “No! No!" Sayenne mouthed, fear gripping her heart. The bond, damn the bond! She was helpless where she lay, pinned beneath the Terrocio's claw.

  "Go find your mother, boy," the dragon threatened.

  "Run," Sayenne mouthed to the boy when their eyes finally met. He just shook his head and set his jaw, his expression defiant and angry.

  "I'm Alturis of Clan Maxil" he yelled "and I'm..."

  The Dragon raised an scaled eyebrow as he shot flames from his mouth, engulfing the boy.

  Sayenne wept as the flame scrouched the ground black and turned the snow into steam and smoke.

  With a satisfied snort from the dragon it ended, and the smoke and steam cleared to reveal a little boy.

  "I was talking!" He stomped his foot, the fear in his eyes returning to anger.

  "I'm the wolf!" he yelled up to the dragon. Sayenne could feel his mind instinctively using the bond to find the knowledge he needed.

  The boy threw his head back and howled. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and even Terrocio shifted slightly as the boy's howl echoed through the forest.

  Interwoven with the howl was a spell unlike anything Sayenne had seen before, and by the way Terrocio sniffed at the air, she could tell the dragon was surprised, as well.

  The pattern of the magic didn't make sense to Sayenne until the wolves lept into the clearing. They glowed an ethereal blue. These were no ordinary wolves, either. Each member of the pack was three times larger than a typical forest wolf, and magic dripped from their fangs. They growled menacingly, awaiting the boy's command. Yellow eyes staring unblinking as they encircled the three figures, numbering thirty in all by Sayenne's count.

  He managed to weave his need with their full potential. Impressive. Creative.

  "Boy, I have no idea how you are managing this," the dragon snorted, “but--”

  "Release the lady and leave with your life,” the child interrupted.

  Sayenne wondered if the little mage even realized he was speaking in the Old Tongue.

  "Now you are just annoying me, b--,” the dragon answered.

  Sayenne watched as the wolves leaped upon the dragon, not giving him the chance to finish his sentence.

  Alturis darted for Sayenne, swinging his wooden sword as hard as he could at the manacle on her wrist.

  His magic shattered the spell, jolting them all as the broken power rippled the air. The dragon roared. Alturis roared back just as loud, the magic echoing through the forest.

  Sayenne could feel magic flood her body, warming her as the despair lifted.

  "This mouse knows how to fight back," she said to Terrocio, whispering in the Old Tongue. The earth heaved underneath the dragon, causing him to stagger back as the wind landed an invisible blow on his chest.

  Sayenne felt a little hand clasp hers. The link was complete and whole as the darkness erupted into a warm glow, melting the snow around them.

  "Thank you." Sayenne looked down at the boy mage.

  "You're welcome." He smiled up at her, his eyes sparkling innocently.

  "It is time to go. Terrocio, you have failed," Sayenne said calmly to the dragon.

  "I've failed nothing!" He panted, baring his teeth.

  "She said 'leave.'" The boy stepped forward between Sayenne and the dragon, pointing his wooden sword at the large nostril before him. Tendrils of smoke and the smell of sulfur filled the air.

  "I beg you, Terrocio, let this be the end of it,” Sayenne said.

  "I have a job to finish."

  The boy didn't hesitate--mage lightning danced from the tip of his sword into the dragon's eye. The electricity in the air gathered as the boy spoke a string of words in the Old Tongue, calling down lightning on to the dragon from the heavens.

  The dragon roared in pain, felling trees with his large tail as he thrashed about.

  "The Lady says to leave," the boy growled in the Old Tongue. The pack of wolves echoed his growl.

  "The bond," the dragon muttered as he turned his good eye toward Sayenne. The dragon's voice was filled with disgust as he leaped into the air, his giant wings carrying him east. "The council will not be pleased."

  "They seldom are," she whispered softly, watching him fade into the morning sunrise.

  Sayenne looked down to find Alturis nuzzling the wolves that had heeded his call. As he petted them, Sayenne watched him unravel his spell, returning them to their normal size. She smiled, pride swelling in her heart as he took on their wounds. Empathic healing was not uncommon, but it was quite dangerous.

  "Stop, Alturis." Sayenne lay a hand on his shoulder. "It is dangerous to heal that way."

  "Why?" Alturis looked up at her his face starting to swell and big black bruises forming on his cheeks and chin.

  "Look at your arms." Sayenne pointed.

  Alturis' eyes widened as he watched fresh cuts open on his flesh, and blood pour out.

  "How did that happen?" he asked.

  "You transfered your energy into them, and took from them the pain and hurt."

  "Is that what I was doing?"

  "Yes,” she said, “and you must promise not to do it again."

  "But your back needs..."

  "No!" she cut him off. "This type of wound would kill you, and that is why most mages do not perform it."

  "Okay," Alturis nodded, forcing a smile as he stood up and took her hand.

  She smiled back at him as they began walking toward the village.

  "Are we going home?" Alturis yawned.

  "Yes, I'm taking you all home." Sayenne replied clutching the locket gently at her neck.

  "Mom is going to be so surprised." Alturis giggled.

  "Yes, I believe she is." Sayenne smiled softly as they walked.

  Alturis waving his wooden sword fighting imaginary dragons again and again, as Sayenne struggled to stay conscious.

  "Here we are." Alturis took off, running to the door of the house and swinging it wide.

  "Mom!" he yelled.

  Sayenne staggered to the door, noticing for the first time she was leaving a trail of blood behind her.


  "Oh, by the maker, what has happened to you?" The dark haired woman cursed as she put an arm around Sayenne, causing her to moan in pain.

  "What did that to your back! Inside with you."

  Sayenne was guided to a room where she lay on her tummy, surrendering to sleep. After a bit of time, Sayenne woke with a start, her hand shooting to her neck. She sighed in relief. The pendant was still there.

  "Good, you are awake." Alturis' mother said. She entered the room carrying a tray filled with cheeses. "I thought I heard you, hoped you might be hungry. I am Jaelyn, and you are welcome to something to eat."

  "I am hungry." Sayenne nodded as she sat up. "Thank you for the healing," she said as she tenderly flexed her muscles.

  "You are welcome," she handed Sayenne a cup of tea. "Alturis is saying he saved you from a dragon." She laughed.

  "He did, at that, Jaelyn. He did, at that," Sayenne said over the brim of her tea cup.

  "Well, that wasn't the answer I was expecting." Jaelyn bite her bottom lip.

  "Yet, it is truth." Sayenne smiled and patted Jaelyn's knee. "He battled well. I have no doubt that he earned Terrocio's respect." Sayenne nibbled on a piece of cheese.

  "As long as he has the dragon's respect, I suppose it is okay." Jaelyn quipped, standing up to pace the room. "I wish Gandira were here. He does better with the 'mystically unexplainable' than I."

  "Perhaps, but I doubt there is anyone in this village that could be kinder to a complete stranger," Sayenne said as she stood, a piece bread in one hand, the other gently brushing the pendant.

  "You should stay in bed," Jaelyn protested.

  "I wish I could, but I have a delivery to make." Sayenne smiled as she handed her the tray. Sayenne turned back toward the bed, placing the pendant gently in the center. She inhaled deeply as she began chanting, weaving the counter-spell around the pendent.

  There was a small flash of light and the bed creaked as the full weight of Gandira settled upon it. "..Ree!" He was yelling, his eyes closed tight and a grimace of pain squarely etched on his face.

  "Gandira!" Jaelyn squealed in delight as she wrapped her arms around her husband.

  "Jaelyn?" Gandira opened his eyes as her lavender scent encircled him. "Is it really you.”

  "Of course it is," she confirmed. "We've been waiting days."

  "Leg," he whispered. "Dear, the leg--it is broken." He grabbed his leg and gritted his teeth.

  "I didn't have time to heal it. I was interrupted by a dragon," Sayenne replied to the icy look Jaelyn shot over her shoulder.

  "I would like to have a word or two with this rather rude dragon." She closed her eyes and focused on the healing.

  After a moment, Sayenne silently walked out to the parlor, leaving the couple alone. She found Alturis asleep on the couch, his toy sword still clutched tightly in his hand. She leaned down and gently kissed him on the forehead. "My hero ," she whispered with a smile. With a small pat on his head, she made her way outside.

  "Wait." Jaelyn rushed into the snow after the mysterious woman. "You are...her, aren't you?" she said, slightly out of breath.

  "Yes." Sayenne smiled.

  "After all this time? Why?"

  "The world has need of Alturis." Sayenne placed a comforting hand on Jaelyn's shoulder, as the mother went pale. "Not today, but soon."

  "When? How will we know?"

  "I can't say for sure. No one can." Sayenne smiled sympathetically. "I just didn't want him to wake up tomorrow without his father."

  Jaelyn nodded knowingly, reaching out and taking Sayenne's hand in her own.

  "Answer me this--when the time comes will you be with him?" Jaelyn asked, eyes filled with tears.

  Sayenne nodded "I will. The bond has been formed, and thus can not be broken except by death itself."

  "Thank you." Jaelyn wiped the tears from her face.

  Sayenne smiled as she turned, shifting into a wolf.

  The pained gasps of the dragon led Sayenne right to him, resting on the edge of a volcano in the southern hemisphere. Terrocio roared as she floated down to him.

  "I may be blind but I can still smell you!" The large head swung around sniffing delicately in the air.

  "I'm here to help,” she said. Sayenne couldn't help but feel sorry for him. As wounded as she felt, the dragon looked near death.

  "You have helped enough."

  "I warned you multiple times," she said calmly. "You choose to chase me, anyway."

  "Humph. I believed it was a bluff," he chuckled ruefully, until the laugh turned into a cough.

  Sayenne waited for his spasm to subside. "I don't bluff."

  "I'll try to remember that." The dragon rested his head on the rocky floor, closing his eyes tightly. "Your pup has teeth," he grunted. "I forgot how powerful humans can be when bonded."

  "He is special," Sayenne agreed, "and he was very angry with you."

  "That he was," the dragon laughed, coughing up blood.

  "Accept this healing, Terrocio." Sayenne whispered, tears in her eyes as she leaned forward and placed two hands on his enormous face. "Then we shall go home."

  This is story by Tim Tash takes place a few years before Tales of Haydon. Catch up with Tim at https://TimTash.com

  A Serial Killer Christmas

  A party for one?

  By Mercedes Yardley

  Something about the holidays made our dear Peter sad. Perhaps it was the dreary weather or his mother’s murder when he was a child, or maybe it was simply the grating Christmas carols that looped over and over and over, but the end result was despair and a good dose of desperation.

  But this year! This year Peter had something different than all of the other years before, and that was a friend. Well, truthfully perhaps she was more of a victim, but in this day and age, a victim is nearly as good as a friend, and isn’t that what the holidays are all about? Friendship and victimhood?

  Peter combed his hair carefully, awkwardly whistling, “Do You Hear What I Hear?”, which he thought his mother used to sing to him, but he really couldn’t remember anymore. After that, he switched to a few other carols until he eventually decided on “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”

  “What a charming song,” he thought, evidently not realizing that it’s a rather chilling and predatory song indeed, but to Peter, it was a song about love and two strangers coming together and all of the wonderful things that would happen when Bryony came to his Christmas party this evening.

  Oh, there were so many things to be done! He stood with his hands on his hips, nodding in approval at his sturdy wooden table and clicking his tongue at the bare state of the apartment. This wouldn’t do. It’s clean and respectable, just as a bachelor’s home should be, and most especially if the bachelor happens to be a serial killer, such as our darling Peter is. It’s ever so much easier to pull up roots and flee town if there are few things to pack and drag behind one, but my goodness, this is a party! A party for his beautiful Bryony, and this simply wouldn’t do. It needs to be special, to have glitter and shine. He must get to work immediately.

  First, to invite the guest of honor. He took a snowflake that he had painstakingly cut out of tissue paper the day before. It was light and festive, covered in glitter, and if it looked more like an ornament that a small child had made for his or her mother, well, Peter certainly wasn’t aware of that. To him it was a jewel, a tiara, the Hope Diamond. It was precious and perfect and he knew that, if allowed to live that long, Bryony would fold it carefully and sleep with it under her pillow, dreaming sweet dreams of his love for her.

  “Thank you for killing me, darling,” she would say on the day that he murdered her. She would pull the snowflake out of her pocket and Peter’s eyes would widen with delight. “Yes, I kept it all of this time, and it truly was a comfort and a joy to me, and I would love to hold it in my fingers while you drain the life from me. For it was my destiny to be murdered, and you don’t know what a comfort it is to have you
be the one to do it. Thank you, my friend!” Then she would smile prettily, this woman who was born to die, and offer her white throat.

  “Oh, Bryony, you simply are so good to me! You’re everything that I ever wanted, in a woman and a victim, and I am so very glad that I am the one to fulfill the darkness of your destiny. For I was born to kill, you see, and seeing as you were born to die, it works out so beautifully for both of us! How did we ever become so lucky?”

  But Peter realized that his fantasies were running away with him again, and he hadn’t even sent his invitation yet.

  “Come to my place tonight at seven.” He printed as carefully as he could, so that the message wouldn’t get lost. There was no need to sign his name, for she would intuitively know who it came from, and he rushed to his window, prying it open and flinging the snowflake into the wind and weather.

  “Take it to her!“ he shouted into the darkness, and the wind, who can be either quite dutiful or mischievous by turns, stole the snowflake away into the night.

  But the party, oh the party! Peter pulled out decorations, boxes and bags of things that he had recently purchased. He hauled a Christmas tree inside, which flung snow this way and that, generally making a nuisance of itself. He ripped open a box of shiny ornaments, each having absolutely no sentimental meaning to him, and hung them on the tree. He covered it in tangled lights, in tinsel, and in bows. Then Peter the Murderer put a shining star on top. He had almost bought an angel at the store, but it seemed too ironic and almost cruel to have it in his home. While he was certainly no angel, Bryony would become one by the time he was through with her, and he didn’t want to tip his hand too early.

  And then there was the matter of presents. He had chosen them carefully for his guest. A pair of star earrings that he had kept from a previous victim. A picture of a bird that he had taken, hopping in the snow. It was sure to please her, for she dearly loved lost little things, and since it was so cold and hopeless in winter, this bird was surely lost. Perhaps it could be her pet in the afterlife, and sit upon her shoulder? Perhaps it would sing of joy and greatness? Peter felt a stab of sorrow that he hadn’t killed it when he had the chance, that it wouldn’t be ready for his darling when she stepped seamlessly through to the other side, that it wouldn’t greet her with cheery cries. Unless…