Author Archives: Erin M. Klitzke

“She didn’t love him the way that you—” She held up a hand and I went quiet, staring at her. She smiled again and shook her head. “I know he cared for her and she for him. I know it’s … Continue reading →

I sat by the fire hours later, a mug of tea cradled between my palms as I kept the mid-watch, the watch between post-dinner and the graveyard shift. Thom wasn’t happy about it, but I knew I wouldn’t be able … Continue reading →

Seamus emptied the bucket he’d been using to wash his hands and refilled it. He deposited it in front of Cameron. “Wash your hands,” he said, his voice gruff. He carefully avoided eye contact and turned away as Cameron looked … Continue reading →

“Is this what we’re going to be dealing with for the rest of our lives?” Cameron asked, staring at his still-bloody hands. “Monsters coming out of nowhere with grudges against all of you—or one of us—for some real or imagined … Continue reading →

“Sif.” She tried to ignore the voice as she sat, shivering in the wind and perched on the wall that protected their little village from the rest of the world. She didn’t want to talk. Words weren’t going to help—they … Continue reading →

There was too much blood, far too much blood. More than there should be. Where was it coming from? Tears blurred her vision as she stared down at him, only seeing him, not the two healers who worked feverishly to … Continue reading →

Phelan could feel the unrest even before they came back into sight of the walls. A faint pounding rose behind his eyes as they rode, possibly due to whatever he’d managed to wrest free of Lake Michigan’s frigid depths or … Continue reading →

Phelan jerked awake as someone—Thom—heaved him up onto his horse’s back. He flailed for a moment, limbs feeling like jelly as he looked around blearily. “How long–?” “Only a few minutes,” Marin said from near his horse’s head. “Sif and … Continue reading →

Time seemed to stop for the briefest of moments. Phelan’s magic splashed against the lindworm’s chest, illuminating the scene in a strange, blue-white glow. Sif’s face was twisted into a fierce snarl, another of her arrows embedding itself in the … Continue reading →

The man beneath his hands was too hot already, especially for someone flat on his back on the Lake Michigan ice. Phelan jerked his cloak back from where it covered Thordin’s still body, watching his friend’s chest rise and fall … Continue reading →