E-Book, Englisch, 496 Seiten
Reihe: Writers of the Future
Hubbard / Becker / Herbert L. Ron Hubbard Presents Writers of the Future Volume 38
1. Auflage 2022
ISBN: 978-1-61986-760-4
Verlag: PublishDrive
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection
Bestselling Anthology of Award-Winning Sci Fi & Fantasy Short Stories
E-Book, Englisch, 496 Seiten
Reihe: Writers of the Future
ISBN: 978-1-61986-760-4
Verlag: PublishDrive
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection
25 Award-winning Authors and Illustrators
Brilliant new worlds
Captivating new ideas
Powerful new stories of action, adventure, and fantasy
Prepare for alien contact. Explore the darkest alleyways of urban fantasy. Rise to the dizzying heights of magical realism.
You will love this year's anthology because these award-winning writers provide a diverse array of stories that will transport you and reshape your reality.
Get it now.
Bonus Short Stories & Tips by David Farland • Frank Herbert • L. Ron Hubbard • Diane Dillon • Brian Herbert & Kevin J. Anderson
• Frank Herbert
Autoren/Hrsg.
Weitere Infos & Material
The Magic Book of Accidental City Destruction: A Book Wizard’s Guide
I don’t usually permit unsupervised children to peruse my stacks. It’s one of the Book Wizard Guild’s maxims: “Children don’t buy books. Adults buy books for them.” But I’ve never been great at following rules, and something about the two young boys that wandered into my magic bookstall intrigued me. Back then, my stall was merely a canvas stretched over four wooden poles. Nestled tightly in the bazaar just inside the city gates of Archen, my stall had just enough room for my desk and three tables stacked with my magic books. I swept a layer of fine, rust-colored dust out of my stall and into the crowded bazaar, pretending not to notice the boys. What was it about them? I craned my neck, trying to hear their voices over the buzzing of a thick crowd and the click-clacking of mule hooves on cobbles. Maybe it was the way the books practically cooed like love-struck maidens as the older boy—probably a decade younger than me, around fifteen years old—brushed his fingers across their spines. Maybe it was that the younger of the two—presumably his brother, maybe ten—shuffled around in shoes that were far too big, while the older went barefoot, feet stained maroon with dirt and sweat. Or maybe it was that the younger one reminded me of myself at his age, too mouthy for his own good. “I thought Book Wizards were men,” he said to me. “Who says I’m not?” He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, glancing from my breasts to my shaved head, then shrugged and bounced over to my children’s section—a small stack of moving-picture books. I grinned as he opened the top book. Wind whistling through tall trees—the kind that can’t be found within a hundred miles of the city—could be heard above the din of the bazaar. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the book’s gentle breeze rustle the boy’s wild, dark curls off his face. The scent of pine mingled pleasantly with that of the aromatic spice stalls nearby and masked the rankness of mule droppings. The boy’s lips formed a perfect circle as he experienced the magic. “Kadin! Kadin! You’ve got to see this!” The older boy, tall and thin with the barest hint of black hair above his lips and on his chin, was studying the cover of the Book of Truths, his attention unbroken by his brother’s exclamations. I frowned. I’d never liked that book. Many of my books had the essence of dogs, playful and loving. Some of them were like cats, temperamental but affectionate. A few were sly foxes. But the Book of Truths was a snake. The younger brother raised his voice. “Kadin!” The older boy lurched, as if being awakened from a trance, and peered down over his brother’s shoulder. “It’s great, Azzam.” But I could see the frown that his brother could not. “Can I have it?” “Sorry, Az——” “Please, please, please!” “We can’t, Azzam,” Kadin said, then leaned in closer to whisper something to his brother, as if embarrassed. “Ugh! You’re the worst! Mama and Papa would have bought it for me.” Ah. Orphans, I deduced. As a Book Wizard, it’s my nature to marvel at the power of words. The words the younger boy spoke seemed innocent enough. Family members argue. I know that better than anyone. And I mean anyone. But if you’d seen Kadin’s face, you’d know that those words had the power to cut straight into his soul. I’d felt that same blade. I knew what it was like to have people who were supposed to love you use words to pick at never-healing wounds. In a way, I envied their brotherhood—it had been so long since I’d had a family—and an overwhelming need to help them preserve their relationship came over me. I regret what I did next. Truly. It’s going to sound heartless and stupid. But I swear it wasn’t malicious. A little selfish, maybe, but aren’t we all sometimes? And, it broke another Book Wizard Guild maxim: “Never give away anything for free.” If I was going to give away a book, it should have been something harmless, like the moving-picture book. It definitely should not have been a book I knew to be a snake. The guild was pushing the Book of Truths, and I wanted to advance in rank. Higher rank meant more spellcrafting permissions. Also, I wanted that book out of my stall, and Kadin seemed to have a way with it—if you can ever trust a snake, it’s in the hands of a good person, right? These boys were clearly poor, and if this book could help them make some money, maybe it would ease the stress on their relationship. I had a plan. “I’ll tell you what,” I said, picking up the heavy, leather-bound book. “I’ll let you have this book now, and you’ll pay me back later, with interest.” “What’s interest?” Azzam asked. Kadin looked at his feet. “That’s very nice of you, miss, or um—” “Call me BW.” It was the new name I’d chosen for a new life. “Very kind, BW. But we don’t have a way of making enough money to buy this, especially with interest.” “What’s interest?” Azzam repeated. “Ah, but that’s the beauty of this book,” I said to Kadin. “If you’re smart, you can use it to make plenty of money.” “What! Is! Interest?” “You,” I said, plopping the book into Azzam’s arms, “need to learn some patience! Open the book.” He did so, groaning under the weight of it. “It’s empty?” I grinned. “Place your hand on the page and ask it what you want to know.” Azzam did as instructed. “What is interest?” A robust description of the word scrawled itself across the page. The spellwork for the Book of Truths made it possible to source any written information that existed among any other book in the Book of Truths’ global network. I didn’t know much about the book yet, as I avoided it as much as I could, but I did know it wasn’t omniscient. Just very powerful spellwork. Imagine having a massive library at the tip of your fingers—it still required time and effort and determination, but in the hands of the right person, it was a powerful tool. Young Azzam frowned. “I can’t read good.” Kadin didn’t bother to read what the book said, stroking his almost-mustache with thumb and forefinger. “Interest is when someone wants to rob you, but in disguise. They give you something now but make you pay more than it’s worth later.” I shrugged. “Not quite what the book says, but I don’t blame you for your pessimism. I’ll charge you a mere five-percent interest. But that’s annual. If you’re smart, you can use this book to pay me within a month. Cut that five percent by twelve. What do you say?” It was the easiest sale I’d ever made. I could feel the essence of the book coiling itself around Kadin’s heart. Even before he reached his hand out to shake mine, I knew my plan would work. This boy would be a customer forever, and the Book of Truths would always help him pay. I watched them walk away with a pit in my stomach. The essences of the other books went silent, like when you’ve watched someone make a big mistake, but saying so won’t do any good. I didn’t know why I felt so uneasy. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have given them the book. Azzam’s complaints cut through the noise of the bazaar. “I didn’t want that stupid book! Take it back and get the one with the trees!” I shook my head. Helping these boys might prove challenging with a personality like Azzam’s. Three days later, I sat at my desk in my stall, recording the week’s measly sales in my ledger. One book of instant sleep stories—barely even magic, just boring—and two romance novels in which the reader would physically experience the pathos of the main character. I cringed, thinking about what Mahdir would say. His words scrawled themselves across my ledger. I surely hope you’re only partially through your weekly report. You’ll never earn your next rank at this rate. I huffed. He knew better than anyone that Archen was a difficult city for Book Wizards. That’s why he’d left! I picked up my quill to respond but was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of bickering brothers. I glanced up from the ledger to see Azzam at the stack of moving-picture books. He set aside a few other books as he searched for the one he’d seen earlier. I sensed displeasure from the ignored books, but soon they were purring as Kadin flipped through them. “Back so soon?” I suspected he would return the book. That would go against another guild maxim—no exchanges or returns, ever—but I’d make an exception in this case. I couldn’t saddle a good kid like Kadin with a book like that if he didn’t want it. Tension that I didn’t realize I was holding released from my shoulders. Kadin brushed his hands off on his stained linen shirt and pulled out a coin purse, tossing it to me. I emptied its contents onto my ledger. Enough to pay for the book and the five-percent annual interest. Weeks ahead of when I thought they’d be back, with more interest than they owed for such a short period of time. “That was fast,” I said. Kadin shrugged. “Guess you were right about that book.” He wore a shoulder bag today. It wasn’t especially nice, just a brown woven satchel, but next to his tattered linen shirt and...
