The Key
by Dee Mathews

She hadn’t been home for years. Now she had been summoned by some attorney of her aunts. They had sent a message saying she was needed and provided her with the key to the old place.

Why, she wondered, had they notified her? She was not in the Will. She had been told that more times then she wished to count. Sure, she had grown up here. Her great-aunts had raised her. Nasty, irritable old crones. That was how she remembered them. Always telling her to not to do this or not do that. Never pleased with anything she had done. There were three of them, all old maids. They had come up missing several years ago. The small town’s biggest unsolved mystery in its history.

The Rest of The Key is here.

Hannah was out pruning the standard roses when the car pulled up. She had plenty of time to get self-conscious while she watched the woman get out of her car, look at the house, frown, and then make her way up the path. She had an artsy look about her Hannah didn’t much like: loose pale blonde hair and a flowing soft blue dress that made her look like she’d lost a Pre-Raphaelite painting somewhere.
She drew up in front of Hannah, smiling, and said, “Excuse me, is this Wisteria Cottage?”

When she was cranky, Hannah wondered why people could never read the nameplate on the gate. When she was feeling more reasonable, she was aware that there was no wisteria, and no cottage either. Wisteria made a mess, and John didn’t want it dragging down their new guttering. “Yes, it is. Can I help you?”

The Rest of The Water Bowl is here.

The Chalice of Goth
by Mary Berquist

King Athanhander, nearly 300 years old and sturdy for his age, was nearing the end of his long and peaceful reign. The time was fast approaching to hand over the kingdom to an heir, but Athanhander had sired no male heir to pass on this legacy, to preserve the peace and harmony of the land of Goth. Agonizingly the King paced off his council chambers, knowing the thing he must do and ask of his daughter: sacrifice her freedom to choose a mate to the selection of the Sacred Chalice of Goth.

Outside the sealed Council Chamber the servants were beginning to worry, for the king had passed up his breakfast. It was nearing late afternoon and the great evening meal approached. Still no request or word was heard from within. Suddenly the great doors flew open and there stood the King with all his years and responsibilities weighing heavily upon him and evident in his face and stance.

The Rest of The Chalice of Goth is here.

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