Bards and Sages Quarterly (October 2019)

By Joseph Vasicek, Lisa Timpf, Thea Boodhoo and 7 more

The Bards and Sages Quarterly closes out its eleventh year in publication with an appropriately creepy and peculiar issue featuring works by Joe Vasicek, Sara Pauling, John Post, Zachary Kellian, Lucy Stone, Kay ben-Avraham, Claire Simpson, Emily Sorensen, Thea Boodhoo, and Lisa Timpf.

A nervous curator invites a stranger into the museum's collection after hours to deal with a newly acquired and highly problematic piece in "Viaticum."

An act of chemical terrorism creates a bizarre zone where victims are frozen in place. One woman's fascination with the event leads to a surreal discovery in "The Pause."

A mother's face-off with a witch yields surprising results in "Unexpected Lastborn."

These and other stories await.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bards and Sages Publishing
• Release date: Sep 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393417255

Book preview

Phantom of Dead Trees by Denny Marshall

Unexpected Lastborn

By Emily Martha Sorensen

I SHALL NEVER FORGET the day Mama snubbed the witch.

It was on Dirasnaide, the last day of the year. Mama wore her best hat and dress, reminding everybody we met that this great day was her birthday. Never mind that it was my birthday too — never mind that I wore threadbare hand-me-downs and had no hat at all.

I hugged the back of our procession, as I always did. Being the youngest, I was frequently forgotten or pounded on. Mama spoiled Nadrainli, the oldest because they’d intended her birth. Papa bragged incessantly about all of his five sons. But I’d been a surprise, four years after Naomi, the final daughter in a family that preferred sons.

That’s right, Mama bragged to the grocer. It’s been thirty-five years since I chased the last witch away. Thirty-five years! On my seventh birthday, it was, yet I was smart enough back then to know to rid the town of witches!

I stared at the shop window glumly. Reuben and Lee were already inside, fighting over the last piece of penny candy in a display. In a minute, Papa would roar in there and give both of them a wallop for their bad behavior.

Papa never walloped me. Papa never noticed me. I’d also never had a penny I could spend on candy.

That’s right, Mama went on, preening. Seventh daughter of a seventh daughter I was, a real plum for any witch to take. But did I go? Oh, no! Stood my ground and spat at her, didn’t I? Proved I wouldn’t take her nonsense! Proved there was no curse upon me to become one of those things!

Sometimes I thought there was a curse upon me.

Or rather, I was the curse.

Mama and Papa should have stopped with eleven, I thought glumly. I glanced at my sister Naomi, patting her hair in the shop window. She looked so much like Mama, so prim. Or, better yet, ten.

A sneering voice said from behind us, There weren’t no chance yeh was ever goin’ to be onna us ‘things.’

Startled, I spun around. Mama did, too. Her face went pale with horror.

Witch! she cried, pointing.

A hideous old woman wearing a threadbare traveling cape shrugged. As yeh say.

Mama’s face turned bright red. You’ve come to try to convert me to your wicked ways again! Admit it!

The witch sneered. Yeh can call my ways wicked if yeh want, but yeh ain’t got magic, and there’s no point in pretendin’ yeh do. Yeh ain’t a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Yer a seventh daughter of an eighth. The witch sniffed. Now, her . . .

The witch pointed a bony claw towards us. It took me a moment to realize, in horror, she was pointing at me.

Annie? Mama asked, her voice hoarse.

Didn’t it never occur to yeh? The witch cackled. Yeh got seven daughters here, same as yer ma. Can’t yeh count?

I stood ramrod still, my heart pounding. What did she mean? Did she mean me? How could that be? Nobody even noticed me!

Ain’t yeh never noticed it? The witch cackled. The child goes invisible! How could yeh not realize a thing like that?

I gasped and took a step backward.

Ma’s face was ashen. She said nothing.

The witch burst out in laughter. Blind, alla yeh! Fools! Idiots!

Pl-please, stop it! I gasped. I’m not a witch! I can’t be! Mama —

Mama’s face flooded with crimson. You will not insult me any longer. Leave, before I —

Insult yeh? the witch jeered. I ain’t half-done insultin’ yeh! Look! Yer seventh daughter’s invisible right now!

All heads whipped around, searching for me. I cowered in fear. Wandering eyes searched through me, not seeing me. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then I realized what this meant.

What it had always meant.

I really was a witch.

Annie? Ma called, sounding frightened. Annie?

Annie? Pa roared. If you’re a witch, I’ll wallop the magic right outta ya!

Annie! Lee shouted.

Annie! Reuben yelled.

Annie! Naomi hollered.

Annie! Nadrainli cried.

I watched them all silently, realizing for the first time that I didn’t have to be a curse to them all anymore. I could be free.

If only I had somewhere to go.

And then I saw the witch’s eyes watching me.

She knew where I was, even though no one could see me. She was standing right there, waiting for me. She had . . . she had come here for me.

Nobody had ever wanted me before.

I walked over to her and silently slipped my hand in hers.

The witch’s eyes glinted. Good choice, she whispered. Happy seventh birthday. Don’t worry, I ain’t nearly as wicked as I look.

I know, I whispered back. I know what wicked looks like, and it’s not you. It’s clean and pretty, and it wallops children.

The witch’s eyes darkened at first, but then they glinted. She became invisible too, and we walked out of town together.

I shall never forget the day Mama snubbed the witch.

It was the day I started my life.

Originally published in Magic and Mischief, 2018.

The Black Door

By John Post

THE DOOR WAS BLACK and smooth as still water. No knob protruded to grab, no divots or grooves patterned into its surface, its boundaries set in crisp right angles against the white walls brightened by the fluorescent lights overhead.

David stared at it from just outside the room, waiting to pass through the metal detector embedded into the doorframe. He had not known what to expect, but he hadn’t expected this. Not a door at all. Something different, something alien.

I need to inform you once again that your decision is irreversible, Dr. Tahn said, breaking David’s trance. Some doors are one-way, others are two-way. Yours is one-way. He stood on the other side of the metal detector, tapping through screens on his interface, the holographic screen hovering in front of his face.

David nodded, still transfixed by the door.

I’ll also remind you that this could result in death. He paused. Or worse.

Or worse?

Dr. Tahn punched something into his tablet, looked up over his glasses. He had teak-brown skin and a face defined by a broad nose and deep wrinkles.

Stuck between doors, he said. Or being transported to the wrong door.

David looked at him. It would’ve been nice to have been told this before now, he said, an edge to his voice.

I have, actually, Tahn responded, still navigating the interface screens. In each one of our consultations. You’re holding something in your hand?

Yeah, he said, opening his palm to reveal two pearl earrings. A gift. They were hers.

Dr. Tahn flicked his fingers, and one of the windows on his interface slid out of sight. We don’t allow any possessions to be taken. Sensing David’s hesitation, he added: Again, this was discussed in our consultations.

David deposited the earrings in the plastic bowl beside the detector, shooting Tahn an irritated look. David’s focus had admittedly strayed during some of those meetings, his mind pulled down the current of thoughts that ended in holding her in his arms again.

Now your clothes, Tahn said.

What?

No possessions—at all, Tahn said in his monotonous voice.

He stripped down to his underwear.

Underwear too, please.

I’m not stripping naked in front of you.

Tahn glanced at him. Then you won’t be going through the door.

David sighed and pulled down his underwear. The hallway grew very cold—the tile chilling his feet, goosebumps popping on his skin. He felt pathetic standing there, his genitals shrunken in the chill. He couldn’t tell if his shivers were from the temperature or the nervous ball that laid heavy as a stone in the pit of his stomach.

Okay, now step through please.

David obeyed, and the machine accepted him silently.

Tahn typed something in on his interface, studied a window with a scroll of numbers. He gestured toward the door.

We’re all set. When you’re ready.

David strode across the room, each cold footstep padding across the tile. A surreal, dreamlike feeling overcame him.

There’s something odd about it.

Tahn looked up.

The door, David said. It feels off. Something weird. I can’t put my finger on it.

Tahn looked back at his interface, read something on it. You are right to feel that way, he said in that dismissive tone that David hated. It’s definitely odd. And definitely weird.

Obviously, David said with an edge of condescension, turning back to the door and studying its stillness.

He wanted to stand there longer, to figure out what made it so odd, but Tahn cleared his throat behind him. He stepped forward, and the rectangle of black engulfed him.