Enchanted Ever After. Robin D. Owens

when her terror was strong enough for them to taste.

      Something pushed her. Hard invisible hands. More and more came at her, tiny but strong, beings she couldn’t see, couldn’t elude, pushing her from Jenni’s yard.... No sound from the nasty small ones...at first...then evil whistling giggles, laughing at her, knowing they could kill her...thrusting her south to the edge of the Circle...which fell away in a gigantic waterfall no one could survive. Crushed to death by water.

      Her fingers dug into the earth, grabbing, trying to defeat the inevitable. Shards of rock jabbed under her nails. She screamed and screamed and nothing came from her mouth.

      With a hiss, a fiery whip wrapped around her wrist. The giggles became long shrieks pitched at the very top of her hearing, spearing into her head. She’d stopped, but the fire ate through her skin and flesh searing down to the bone. Not saved...just dragged north to the Castle, five times its normal size, not brown brick but black stones, slick with dripping blood. Something waited there to feast on the rest of her.

      The monsters in the sky dove.

      Sharp beaks pierced her, ripped. A huge clawed birdlike foot grabbed her around the waist, puncturing internal organs. Hideous pain, then they flew through the Castle walls and she was dropped onto a hard stone floor inscribed with a magical pattern. A hooded figure sat on a throne above her. She knew she’d been captured and was trapped until torture brought forth every bit of information she had. And she didn’t even know why.

      Lightning stormed around her, the walls of the Castle disappeared and she floated in an electric universe that transformed from lightning to brilliant fireball stars....

      Kiri’s feet thunked from chair to ground and she quivered, not enough muscle control to even curl up into a ball and hide.

      Whoa. Really intense scary nightmare. All from her anxieties about meeting her neighbors and fitting in and the wrenching hurt earlier of not getting the job and the excitement of being a writer on a new game and maybe a teensy fear of failure. The threat of using all her vacation time for an entire year and then washing out of the effing game prologue, having to stick with her present job with no relief.

      Her breathing sounded loud and harsh, the house too quiet. Something she didn’t often notice or mind, the memories of her parents’ loud and ugly fights still echoed from her childhood so that a quiet house meant peace.

      How long had she been out? She couldn’t see the clock, her arms and legs jerked once as she tried to move, then she rolled over. The cheap wall clock from the dollar store showed that her dream couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes. Though it had seemed like infinity stretching to doom.

      She rocked to her feet and passed her computer and the game with no more than a glance, almost shuddering. Even if she entered Fairies and Dragons and defeated monsters there, it might spark more dreams or nightmares that night. She didn’t want to chance that.

      A little scritch at the uncovered window made her jump and whirl. She thought she saw a thing, a little brown triangular-eared rat thing, peering in at her with big round eyes.

      She sat down hard on the floor and noted the computer hum. It clicked and she flinched. Soothing music wafted out, the album repeating. Maybe her chakras had been overbalanced.

      Rising slowly, she looked at the bay window. Nothing there, of course, no scratches on the glass, of course.

      A pounding at her front door had her breath trapped in her chest and her body reflexively surging forward.

      “Kiri! Kiri!” shouted her friend Shannon from beyond the door.

      Kiri looked wildly around the place. Since there was only the chair and two small tables in the living room and she’d mopped and dusted that morning, the room was clean. She glanced down at her sweats. You could barely see the hot chocolate stains against the black fabric, and Shannon and Averill—Shannon’s husband who was probably with her—wouldn’t care.

      Rushing to the door, she threw it open. “What is it? Is something wrong—” But Shannon’s beatific smile stopped that sentence.

      Shannon flung her arms around Kiri in a tight hug, they rocked and Shannon snuffled. “I have news. Good news!”

      Kiri returned the hug. “Fabulous, come in.”

      With only a little geek-gawkiness, Shannon pranced in. She was a tall, skinny woman with a pale complexion that showed light freckles. Her carroty hair sprang out from her head in a thick mat and her smile made her cheeks high and round.

      Kiri gestured to the big chair and unfolded a camp seat. Shannon’s joy washed over her and she grinned back at her friend. “Tell all.”

      Settling into the chair with a quick butt wiggle, Shannon beamed. “I’m pregnant. Averill and I are having a baby.”

      Air whisked around in Kiri’s mouth and she understood it had fallen wide open. “Wow.” Her wits scrambled. “I didn’t even know you guys were hoping for a baby.”

      Shannon flushed red. “It was an accident, but we’re thrilled.”

      Kiri swallowed. “That’s fabulous,” she enthused. Meanwhile her thoughts spurted in a thousand directions, like brain synapses misfiring. Shannon was her oldest and best friend and if Kiri knew anything it was that their relationship had just changed irrevocably. Shannon would be focused on Averill and the baby, rightfully so, but Kiri felt a little cold.

      Then she felt a lot cold and the open door creaked. Kiri hurried to shut it. “Wow,” she said again.

      “We’re so happy!”

      “That’s absolutely great!” Kiri went over and hugged her friend. “I have milk for the coffee to celebrate!”

      Shannon laughed. “Thanks. No more caffeine for me for the duration, but could I have some herbal tea?”

      “You got it.” Kiri went to the kitchen and filled a glass measuring cup with water. She set it in the microwave, rooted in her tea drawer and found chamomile. That was supposed to be good, right? Soothing? She shrugged. The box said it was caffeine free. She plunked a bag in a mug. “How are you feeling?”

      “Fabulous.” Shannon hopped up and whirled around then strode to Kiri and hugged her again. “Revved.”

      “Great,” Kiri repeated. She couldn’t scrape up different words. “I’m happy for you.” That she could say with full sincerity.

      “Averill and I wanted you to be the first to know.”

      “That’s so nice. Thanks.”

      “And I wanted to tell you myself, so Averill is getting us drinks down at the Sensitive New Age Bean. You know how restless he is,” Shannon ended fondly.

      The microwave dinged. “You sure you want the tea?” Kiri asked.

      “Yeah, I do. He’ll probably bring me chai. He can never remember that I hate chai.” Shannon tsked. Kiri poured water on the tea bag, handed the mug on a saucer to Shannon.

      Shannon sank back into the chair. “We’ve just been to a birth center and have already gotten masses of information. They are so nice there and we met other soon-to-be parents, too.” Dimples showed in Shannon’s cheeks as she blew on the tea water, then sipped. Her glance slid away.

      Kiri made herself smile as she took the camp seat. “Sounds awesome, though I think you have a ‘but’ for me?” Another “but” that would send her life in a different direction today. She glanced at the clock. It was 7:40 p.m. and getting dark, so there shouldn’t be too many other strange things coming up.

      Shannon said, “Our first set of parenting classes are on Friday nights, so I can’t—”

      “—play Fairies and Dragons with me.” Again Kiri deliberately put oomph in her smile. “Do you want to change nights?” she asked lightly, sure she already knew the answer, but hoping she’d still have good connections with her best friend.

      “Oh.