What Happened in Old Stone?
Part I
Loathsome
A familiar world awaits. If he can only reach it, perhaps he’ll remember where he belongs.
Precious
For centuries, Vika has lived alone at the edge of the Desert Dys, where travelers vanish and the night keeps its secrets. Then, from impossibly far away, she hears the cry of a child. She does not know why it calls to her. She only knows that she must follow.
The Thread
No blade can sever it. No flame can blacken it. A village shroudmaker believes the white thread belongs with the dead. But some things have farther to travel than anyone imagines.
The Thimble
The thing outside Clara’s window came every night when the sister moons kissed. It never scratched the glass. It only tapped once and whispered her name. “Keep this on after dark,” her grandmother said, pressing a silver thimble onto Clara’s finger. “Nothing hunting you will be able to find you.”
The Needle
A magical needle grants Mara the power to heal any wound. But, only by passing it to someone else. From a desperate childhood rescue to a lifetime serving kings, every miracle carries a human cost. When her own life nears its end, Mara must decide who will pay for her final stitch.
The Crown
The merchant claimed the hand had belonged to a baron. It was solid gold, broken cleanly at the wrist, and so perfectly formed that every crease remained upon its palm. Even the faint impression of a signet ring encircled one finger, though the ring itself was gone. King Mavren purchased
The Golden Key
Three truths followed the golden key into Maezhiir. It would fit any lock. The first thing touched by the person who turned it would become solid gold. And it would answer each person only once. Baron Orrel considered the final truth proof that the magic was safe. Then he considered
Walking: Behind the Story
More than twenty years ago, Walking with Shadows began as a comic. I drew pages. Designed characters. Wrote scenes. Built pieces of a world around them. And then, like far too many creative projects, it remained unfinished. But the characters never really went away. They stayed in my head—changing,
The Chalice
The chalice was already ancient when the Eight Kings were young. It had no jewels, no crest, no inscription promising glory. It was a plain thing of tarnished silver, its stem bent slightly beneath the bowl. The sort of cup a servant might place before an unwanted guest. Its magic
Walking with Shadows: Part III
Dawn brings answers—but not the ones Captain Meydoka expected. Some mysteries are meant to be solved. Others were carefully arranged to find you.
Running.
“A recovered tale from the Known Realms.” No one remembered what started it. Perhaps it had been a stolen loaf of bread. Perhaps a cruel nickname spoken once too often. Whatever the reason, by the time the sun hung low above the fields beyond the village, a dozen children were