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He’d found the trail a few days ago up on the hills, among the twisted gorse. It was a sad thing when a dryad went sour. They were sweet ladies for the most part, and Tobias liked them. He had four or five in his wood, not counting the old oak, who was his own manner of thing. This one wasn’t a local; she smelled rootless and angry. Lost her tree,
... See moreEmily Tesh • Silver in the Wood
Imperial Hospitality
Adria L. Imada • Aloha America: Hula Circuits through the U.S. Empire
sanguine.
Alix E. Harrow • The Ten Thousand Doors of January
