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PC 469: Ravana’s Children

Show Notes

Rated PG-13.


Ravana’s Children

by Ian Muneshwar

It was the end of a summer that burned through Queens quick as a fever, and Jamie couldn’t sleep. He twisted in his sheets, kicking them to the bottom of the bed, and watched his box fan. The blades made ribbons of the streetlights and cast sharp-sided shadows that chased each other across the walls.

Outside, his parents were fighting.

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PC 468: Sigrid Under the Mountain


Sigrid Under the Mountain

by Charlotte Ashley

After Esja produced sour milk three days in a row, Sigrid knew she had a problem. Leaving the pail of greenish milk next to her stool, she trudged off in the grey light of the early morning towards the barley field at the verge of the woods; the new field she had cleared only this spring. When your cow spoilt on the inside, she knew, that only meant one thing: mischief.

She found the door nestled in the mud between the last row of barley and the half-completed fence. Made of scavenged barrel-boards and twine, it could have been mistaken for a junk heap if not for the flotilla of little footprints surrounding it. Sigrid lifted the artless trapdoor a few inches just to be sure and was rewarded with the warm stench of burnt rabbit pellets. She dropped the door and staggered back. Kobolds.

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PodCastle 467: How I Became Coruscating Queen of All the Realms, Pierced the Obsidian Night, Destroyed a Legendary Sword, and Saved My Heart’s True Love

Show Notes

Rated R for adult content


How I Became Coruscating Queen of All the Realms, Pierced the Obsidian Night, Destroyed a Legendary Sword, and Saved My Heart’s True Love

By Baker & Dovey

No shit, there I was, knee-deep in necromantic weasels in the lair of the mad wizard-king, when Korgar and Elutriel both decided it was time to win my affections once and for all.

Elutriel had summoned an aura of resistance, an iridescent bubble free of weasels. He struggled forwards, heaving against the weight of their wasted furry bodies.

“Push them into the flames!” I shouted, pointing with Hrrnngnngrrrndr, the Sword of a Hundred Thousand Agonies, at the fire-trap Korgar had triggered as we entered the room.

But Elutriel ignored me and waded toward Korgar instead. He used the aura to shove a wave of writhing, stinking flesh before him until it piled up and over the granite-slab shoulders of the Vhunken warrior.

Korgar burst out with a mountainous effort and grabbed a gnashing undead weasel with a hand like a boulder. His huge arms straining, he forced it through the aura and toward Elutriel. The weasel’s rotted body twisted and deformed under the pressure, but its teeth still gnashed as Korgar bent it toward the healer’s neck.

Typical.

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PodCastle Miniature 97: When I Had Eyes, I Didn’t See

Show Notes

Rated R for disturbing themes and imagery


When I Had Eyes, I Didn’t See

By Anna Yeatts

I had eyes once.

Before the Lift-man came.

Now I have knobs, smooth and black and round as pegs. I touch them with my fingertips and try to remember what it felt like, having eyes.

If I push one knob in, the other one pops out like the elevator buttons used to do.

There used to be a brass plate mounted on the wall next to the elevator’s cage with two smooth black pegs. I pushed in the top peg to go up. The bottom peg popped out. Gears ground, cables groaned, and the elevator clanked down to the lobby.

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PodCastle 466: Blood Stone Water

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Blood Stone Water

By A.J. Fitzwater

Tau bit deeper with her paddle, and green water hushed beneath the oka hull. Nhia sat in the bow, serene as when they’d pushed off from Ia that sunrise to a farewell ululation. Her fingertips trailed in the smooth ocean, eyes unfocused on the fins that kept time or searching further forward to their destination five sunrises hence.

Tau fell into a cadence, and Nhia’s sweet harmony twined thoughtlessly around her bark-rough voice. Nhia’s easy joy sang at odds with the impending rise of the Stone Moon.

Death awaited them at the end of their journey.

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PodCastle 465: Never Truly Yours

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Never Truly Yours

By Marion Deeds

October 13, 1931

Dear Neville –

I remember you asked me once, darling, how I got my outrageous name. You were laughing, a highball glass in your hand, at the time — convinced, I’m sure, that I would have some witty story about a character from musical theater or a wager made and lost. Just as I know, when I’ve said to you that I’ve had a bad life and done terrible things, you probably pictured a humble mother — perhaps a seamstress — a gamekeeper father, or me betting too much at Baccarat and frequenting speakeasies.

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PC 464: Needle Mouth


Needle Mouth

by Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam

 

When Hana Samsa woke from a fevered nap one afternoon, she found that she had been transformed into an enormous mosquito. At the foot of her bed, her tiny legs thumped against an empty bottle of Becherovka; she’d pushed it there that morning after licking the last particles of bittersweet liquor from the cap. Her head pounded in the faint light of the gas lantern by the bedside, but when she raised her new insect arms to massage her temples, they wouldn’t bend. She felt quite sure that, when she had escaped Anastázie’s embrace that morning in order to retrieve the Becherovka from beneath the bed, she had been human, had used her human tongue to lap the inside of the cap, had nudged her human head back under Anastázie’s arm and rested it on her chest, had breathed with human nostrils the sunshine smell of Anastázie’s skin. Now Anastázie was gone, likely off to work at the school, and Hana had gained four extra legs and a mouth like a needle.

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PodCastle 463: A Dozen by Dunsany

Show Notes

Rated PG


A Dozen by Dunsany

by Lord Dunsany

read by Wilson Fowlie, Setsu Uzume, Graeme Dunlop, Eric Luke, Matt Dovey, Aidan Doyle, Khaalidah Muhammad-Ali, Cheyenne Wright, Tina Connolly, Steve Anderson, Jen Albert, Amal el-Mohtar.

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PodCastle 462, ARTEMIS RISING: Stay


Stay

by K.C. Ball

An almost-bass voice said something I didn’t catch. Higher voices giggled, then five kids moved out of the shadows into the hard light of the parking lot.

Two boys, three girls; none a day beyond eighteen. Bumping against each other. Laughing for no reason. At ease and full of life, the way kids are when they believe adults can’t see or hear them.

 

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PodCastle 461, ARTEMIS RISING: Fated Ink


Fated Ink

by Siobhan Gallegher

The front door goes ding-a-ling and in walks a young woman, with bouncing blonde curls, bright blue eyes, blemish-free skin. The picture of perfection, some would say.

But I know better. I’ve seen girls like her, and I’ll see a million more, all optimistic hope-filled bags of flesh. Then they come to me and that changes everything.

The young woman points to the sign in the window, says something about wanting a tattoo above the crack of her little ass. Charming.