Wyngraf #2

By Nathaniel Webb

Fantasy fans, curl up and stay a while!

The beloved cozy fantasy magazine returns! Wyngraf #2 features ten snug stories in the tradition of Redwall and The Hobbit. Feast on a smorgasbord of warm settings, caring characters, and lush magic.

~~Contents~~
* “Desert Dreams” by Angelica Fiori. Marri's family of airship traders blows through desert towns. What will she do when one needs her help?

* "The Hippogriff" by Adam McPhee. Prince Isidore has finally come of age. Can he prove himself to his father by capturing a hippogriff egg? What will happen if he succeeds?

* "Cherries in December" by LM Zaerr. Apprentice trover Maddy Makejoy just wants to impress her employer, but the dark secret of her magic sets her on a new path.

* "Ghosts of the Gatekeeper's Past" by Lawrence Harding. Brother Odran strives to atone for a life of violence, but his past won't leave him alone.

* "In the Court of the Litigious Elves" by Robert E. Harpold. Cal is a terrible cook—and his adventuring party's only hope against the elven legal system.

* "A Murder of Heroes" by Matthew Cote. Every so often, a band of heroes sets out to slay the harmless dragon Blackwing. This time they might have succeeded...

* "Hoopsleeve Family Values" by Austin Scarberry. Aerial fencer Bolliver Hoopsleeve might be foolish, impulsive, and easily confused, but he also has his drawbacks.

* "Rules for Ravelry" by Koji A. Dae. Maria has spent her life knitting magic garments for the royal family of Etar. Will she condemn a young dancer to the same fate?

* "Emergency Delivery" by George Jacobs. When an urgent request for medicine arrives at the wizard's tower, only apprentice Terren and her faithful sheep are there to answer!

* "The Ivory Eagle" by Jonathan Olfert. Kerredi needs a boat so he and his grandfather can make a living, but the annual trade meet is nearly over...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wyngraf
• Release date: Jan 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215499849

Nathaniel Webb

Nathaniel Webb (aka Nat20) is an author, musician, and the editor of WYNGRAF, the magazine of cozy fantasy.His novels include the geek mystery A CONVENTIONAL MURDER, the GameLit adventure EXPEDITION: SUMMERLANDS from Level Up Publishing, and the Veil of Worlds urban fantasies from Vulpine Press. His music biography MARILLION IN THE 1980s was a bestseller for Sonicbond Publishing. He has published numerous short stories and novellas in such genres as litRPG, steampunk, cozy fantasy, mystery, and sword & sorcery.As a lead guitarist, Nathaniel toured and recorded extensively with Grammy-nominated soul singer Jana Mashonee, played on Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter Beth Hart's 2010 album MY CALIFORNIA, and co-produced and played guitar on Colombian pop singer Marre's 2013 album SOMBRAS DE LUZ. His band Talking to Walls toured up and down the east coast, and their 2010 release WE WERE NOT SO TALL reached CMJ's Most Added chart.His game development credits include adventures and supplements for the tabletop RPGs SHADOW OF THE DEMON LORD and GODLESS.A graduate of Phillips Exeter Academy and Wesleyan University, where he was editor of the humor rag THE AMPERSAND, Nathaniel lives in Portland, Maine with his wife and son under a massive pile of cats. He can be found at @nat20w on Twitter, where he mostly talks about cats, writing, and obscure progressive rock.

Book preview

Wyngraf

WYNGRAF

Volume 2 - Autumn 2022

MATTHEW COTE KOJI A. DAE ANGELICA FIORI LAWRENCE HARDING ROBERT E. HARPOLD GEORGE JACOBS ADAM MCPHEE JONATHAN OLFERT AUSTIN SCARBERRY LM ZAERR

Editor-in-Chief

NATHANIEL WEBB

Cover Artist

SHAFER BROWN

www.wyngraf.com

Wyngraf copyright © 2022 Young Needles Press, individual stories copyright © 2022 by their respective authors.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover art by Shafer Brown.

TALES AND EPHEMERA

From the Editor

Desert Dreams

Angelica Fiori

The Hippogriff

Adam McPhee

Cherries in December

LM Zaerr

Ghosts of the Gatekeeper’s Past

Lawrence Harding

In the Court of the Litigious Elves

Robert E. Harpold

A Murder of Heroes

Matthew Cote

Hoopsleeve Family Values

Austin Scarberry

Rules for Ravelry

Koji A. Dae

Emergency Delivery

George Jacobs

The Ivory Eagle

Jonathan Olfert

FROM THE EDITOR

Welcome! Come on in, grab a scone, find a chair—we have plenty to talk about, and only a few pages to do it in.

A lot has happened since our first issue debuted in May. For one thing, we sold enough copies of Wyngraf #1 to earn back our budget, a huge achievement for a new magazine (and a great source of comfort as we set about putting this volume together). To everyone who bought a copy, wrote a review, told a friend, shared a post or tweet, or contributed to our success in any other way, no matter how small—thank you.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

The world of cozy fantasy has only continued to expand. Tales & Feathers held its first open call and debuted its first story. Legends & Lattes was bought by Tor, and Travis Baldree is at work on a sequel. New cozy fantasy groups on Discord, Reddit and Facebook (hi, friends!) add members every day. Our own Twitter follower count has tripled, and our Flash Friday series has shared over forty stories with the world.

But growth brings complexity. As the cozy fantasy scene deepens, the very genre is being refined and redefined. New authors bring new inspirations. It’s this moment of searching, of exploration and self-definition, that we’ve tried to capture in the issue of Wyngraf you hold in your hands (or see gleaming from your screen).

Rather than introduce our stories in order, then, let’s examine them by what’s inside. Or, put another way: when you go to the bakery, you don’t ask the chef to describe each pastry from left to right. You want to know which have chocolate, which have fruit, which are savory…

Step right up!

Over here we’ve got the historicals. Our cover story, Adam McPhee’s The Hippogriff, draws on medieval and Renaissance tales of the paladin Orlando to weave a coming-of-age tale packed with adventure and wonder. Just next to it is Cherries in December by LM Zaerr, a medievalist and professor before she turned her hand to fiction, who based her lush story on a tale from Chaucer’s time.

Or perhaps you’d like to start with something funny? How about Robert E. Harpold’s In the Court of the Litigious Elves—the name says it all, except for the bits about swamp-water stew. You could also run away to the circus and learn some Hoopsleeve Family Values from Austin Scarberry (and the most charmingly thickheaded hero yet to grace our pages).

What, those stories over there? Those aren’t for everyone. As cozy fantasy expands, authors keep pushing the boundaries, and, well—they’re spiced with a little darkness, you see. Ghosts of the Gatekeeper’s Past, by Lawrence Harding, asks how long it takes to atone for a violent life. Or how about A Murder of Heroes from Matthew Cote? There’s a wounded dragon and a menacing warrior in that one. But don’t worry—neither will leave you with a bad taste in your mouth. That’s the Wyngraf guarantee.

We’re also seeing an interest in depicting hobbies and material culture, the influence of cousin genres like cozy mystery and historical fiction. Koji A. Dae’s Rules for Ravelry features an elderly protagonist who weaves magic by crocheting, and Jonathan Olfert’s The Ivory Eagle explores what a Stone Age trade meet might look like in a fantasy world.

But ah, I see you’re a traditionalist. You’re looking for a bit of everything—a little adventure, a little danger, some personal growth, maybe a cute animal companion. You can’t go wrong with the classics! We’ve got just what you need: Emergency Delivery, by George Jacobs, packs wizards, elves, goblins, bandits, and one fluffy sheep into a paradigm of cozy high fantasy. Or for a little steampunk flavor, try the elemental-powered airships of Desert Dreams from Angelica Fiori, whom we are very proud to welcome back from issue one!

Whew! That’s it for this issue. As always, if you’re hungry for more, don’t forget to check our huge collection of free flash fiction at www.wyngraf.com. (You’ll recognize some names from the print magazine, too.) And we love hearing your feedback: send your thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams, and best fall pie recipes to [e-mail]. Follow us on Twitter at @wyngraf.

But most of all… stay cozy!

Nathaniel Webb

Editor-in-Chief, Wyngraf

DESERT DREAMS

ANGELICA FIORI

We literally blow into towns. And when we’re done, we blow out again. I’ve heard the fleets described as breathtaking, but that’s less about their beauty and more about the fact that the very air loves us. The air runs to us, gathered in by our elementals. We make sure they give it back again. It’s the first thing we train them in.

A few weeks ago our whole fratería was packing up from our stop in Thunderbird’s Roost. It was a big enough town to hold the whole family, and enough clear desert around it for even the greater elementals who carried our ships to have a romp. I kept mine with me. Rafale was still small and in training. They’d be torn apart by the greater elementals swirling in the late spring desert. I kept them busy bringing me little snippets of conversation. Eavesdropping was easier than talking to anyone, and thanks to Rafale bringing me exact words, it could be just as reliable as being in the conversation without participating.

People in town spoke of nothing but a group of settlers that had wandered through. On foot! Headed for White Spires, or what was left of it. Most settlers wanted their own space, to build new. A place of their own to name. These folks had been a bit different. Stars in their eyes instead of grit in their veins.

La Fratería didn’t mind. We were all a bit different as well. Erano had basalt skin with white spots. Abuela had lived long enough for two lifetimes. My father was a giant of a man, always scraping his head on door frames. Me? Mainly I just didn’t like talking to people.

The merchant fleets of the desert, carried by their elementals, travel from town to town. At each stop, we sell goods and perhaps pick up a passenger or two. Before long we bundle everything up again and sail off to bring some fresh air to a new town. And since the air here had become stale, we loaded up our stalls and goods, our flags and flowers (fabric, of course, real flowers growing in the desert dryness were beyond our efforts). The Qawiya of the Roost came out to see us off. Abuela walked with him as we packed, townsfolk hauling crates behind them. Abuela waved them aboard and a few of us came out to lend them a hand.

I helped my father load his cruiser before I headed back to the great caravel. When I looked back, he was bent in two, hands rubbing his aching knees. I wished I could take over the family ship and allow him more rest, but without an elemental trained enough to control it, and the voice to give orders, I wasn’t ready.

The winds had picked up as we packed, and now they were positively gusting. Our elemental pack swirled around us, fresh from the desert and anxious to be off. Rafale spun me off my feet, they were so excited. Tugging at skirts and hair, they whispered, Let’s go, let’s go! It always made me laugh. Rafale spun me up to the ship’s rail. My spirits rose along with them. Last month they had struggled to lift a single box. Their training was going well. Though the impromptu lift was fun, I added ask before trying something new to the list of things Rafale would have to be trained in. Then the ship rose off the sandy desert floor and my heart soared.

As we left town, word spread through the crew. We were heading to White Spires, as a favor to the Qawiya. Speculation was rampant as we skimmed over the swales and scrub. We had never heard why White Spires had been abandoned, though we figured the ore had run out. Most tiny settlements grew up around mines. Abuela said it had been abandoned ever since she was a girl. If there had been ore left to get, surely someone would have tried to make a go of it long before now.

I lay under the lookout shade in the bow as we flew, trying to think of more and more outrageous reasons for people to come back to White Spires. Perhaps they were bandits, lying in wait for our caravan to come by. Or maybe they had some new way to find an ore worth selling? They could be wizards, come to build a dark citadel in an inaccessible place. We didn’t think it was so inaccessible, but I’d been told by passengers that the desert was quite the conundrum for most travelers.

I was so busy musing that I was late to catch a waking greater elemental. It swirled up, almost invisible until it passed over an empty dune. Sand blew through its currents, catching my eye, and I squeaked a warning to the helm, where Erano was on pilot duty. I croaked out more words. Two terrors battled for control of my mouth: that Erano wouldn’t hear me, or that the whole ship would. I tried again. The ship must be warned!

I tried to shout again, and though it wasn’t loud enough for everyone to hear, Erano did. He looked up and I pointed frantically off the starboard bow. His shouts filled the air, sending my cousins jumping to the ropes. Erano hauled on the wheel. The whole ship groaned as we turned to avoid it, a few daring souls simply holding onto ropes and allowing themselves to be swung out over the side. They swung back as the ship righted, a few giving me questioning looks. They knew they should have heard me shout. I waved a sheepish apology.

I had only just settled back into my lookout when I heard Erano call up to me. Marri! Abuela wants you!

Oh, dear.

The tornado of dust headed steadily away from us as I made my way to the aft cabin. I knocked.

Ah, Marriuma. Please, come in.

Rafale tried to follow me inside, sending papers flying. I used the tiniest bit of power to shove them outside. Stay here and guard the door, ok? They settled into a sulky puff as I closed the door behind me.

Abuela sat in her rocking chair with a low round table heaped with papers beside her; more papers now littered the floor. Grey frosted her dark braid, but her eyes were still like polished brown granite. I closed the door behind me to keep Rafale from upsetting any more papers. Pardon, Abuela. The words came out in a whisper. My knees hit the floor as I scrambled to gather her manifests and letters.

She nodded as I finished. As you know, we're headed for White Spires. The Qawiya has sent along a few extra crates of supplies for the settlers, on the condition that they’ve made it. If we get there and the settlers were lost to the desert, the crates are to be sent on to Perro Risa. I would prefer to keep the supplies in good condition, so perhaps you can assist me. We’ve had a bit of an upset. I winced. Before I could open my mouth to stammer out an apology, she went on. Double-check the crates. Make sure they are secure and stay with them. It should also give you some extra time to train your elemental. The settlers are in your—very capable—hands.

Yes, Abuela. I slipped out of the cabin and counted myself lucky I hadn’t had to explain myself. I swept up Rafale and blew a little more life into them, which they always enjoyed.

No time like the present to make sure the crates were all right. I made my way across the deck to where they had been tied down. No room for extras in the hold. I tugged at the ties and rigged a shade on top of them. If Abuela wanted me to look after them, then I would guard them like a desert dragon. I sent Rafale to the galley to bring me a snack. He brought me the words of cousin Mercedes, our cook: No snacks till dinner! Rafale brought me the scent of a saguaro fruit instead, which was maddening but new. I spent the rest of the day training them to fetch various smells from all over the ship as I tried to identify them.

The next day we traveled close enough to the mountains for the sun to start dipping behind them. There was still plenty of daylight left, but the mountain’s shadow was a welcome relief in the afternoon. Ahead of us, signature white rock formations speared up against the darker rock of the hills behind them. All hands on deck, we had arrived!

I swung out over the rail, holding to a spare rope. Erano was swinging out on the other side, anchor rope in hand. We grinned at each other. The land rushed up to meet us as we slid past the rocks and into the main street of White Spires.

The greater elementals heaved a sigh and the great desert caravel settled to the ground. The smaller ships of the fleet hung back a bit, but they too were settling in an arc framed against the rest of the desert.

Erano was not the only person to swing out