SO MUCH FOR A QUIET EVENING by Rebecca Sims
    "I was just going to my room..." Suddenly Telly grabbed her ribs from behind, making her jump. Before she could do anything else, she felt the weight that had been pressing against her stomach the entire time slide past the waist of her skirt and land with a soft "ching" on the floor.
    Oh hells, she thought to herself as she saw the look of shock on her father's face. I'm in deep this time.
    "Annellan," said her father, very slowly, "what is that?"
    "Money."
    "How did you get it?" The tone of his voice angered Annellan--what did he think she'd done, sold herself?
    She tipped up her chin. "I sold some drawings to the owner of The Morning Star."
    He frowned. "Annellan, I thought we ended this nonsense about being an artist! You know what kind of life they lead. Why do you insist on throwing away everything we've given you for a life of poverty and unhappiness?"
    She gritted her teeth as the old argument was renewed. "That's just it, Father--everything has been given to me! I want to make something for myself. I want to prove I don't need to depend on someone else to just hand me everything all my life! And just because my dreams aren't yours doesn't mean they're worthless or impossible! Why won't you believe in me?"

    Rennan Deltarron huddled miserably in the back of the wagon, wishing she could force herself to sleep. Lady knew she needed it, but if she did, the visions would come again, like they had every night for months. They were why she was in this wagon, far from the southern village that was her home, headed towards Haven. The House of Healing was her last chance for peace, for an end to her nightmares. If she found no aid there--she'd go insane, if she hadn't already, and what good would she be, blind and mad? None, and she would become a burden on her family. She couldn't stand to live like that--the Healers had to help her!

THE FIRST MAN I KILLED by Stephanie Anderson
If there is one day I will never forget, it is the day I killed my first man...
    I heard a sigh, followed by a snivel. I awoke groggily. The sound of my tent entrance, flapping in the late summer wind. I breathed the warm, sweet air deeply and looked around for Toryn. Toryn was my brother Tretic's first son. He was put in my care for a week. Tretic, his wife, and four month old second son had gone to neighboring clans to trade goods.
    Toryn was not yet two winters old. He showed much resemblance to be my own son, though myself was barely sixteen autumns. I had just taken an afternoon nap with my nephew and it was now suppertime. My tent was empty. My birds were lightly chattering in their cages as I pulled my boots on. I snapped my head around and yelled, "Toryn!"
    I pushed the tent flap aside and poked my head out. People were scarce this time of day; most were eating. I jogged down the narrow dirt path past tents. Dark heads popped out of surrounding tents as I screamed for Toryn.
    "Toryn!" I was yelling in frustration now. I ran to the Shaman's tent. The Shaman Drameth and Toryn often spent time together. I always wondered how they communicated, especially with a sixty year gap between them. I heard voices and asked permission to enter. Startled, Shaman Drameth wondered why tears were streaming down my tanned face. He was sitting with a young man obviously not from our clan.
    "Stephania?" Drameth asked.
    "I apologize for imposing, but Toryn has disappeared. He didn't come by at any time, did he?" The Shaman shook his head. The young man with him's eyes widened. He whispered to the Shaman. Drameth's eyes also enlarged.
    "Stephania, Deri here has been informing me of slavers roaming these parts...They take children, but..."

SUMMONING by Sara Keating
    "Someone actually talked to a kyree?" Dirk asked.
    "Yes. We see them quite often, especially around Meeting. I've talked to a couple; they're as intelligent as the typical human, and often more so."
    "Which reminds me, Rilare; Kyril wants to talk with you about your people."
    I hesitated. I wouldn't mind talking to Kyril, but I'd felt, well, watched ever since I got here. Like something was staring at me constantly. Something rather unfriendly. Also, there was something I was supposed to do as Shadowmoon, that I had already put off far too long. You see, every person who passes the tests of Shadowmoon has to call for a partner, usually one of the many magical creatures of the Pelagirs and beyond, as soon as they realize they've passed. I hadn't, and I was getting uneasy. Also, I wanted to ask Lady Air about the watchers.
    "I would normally be happy to, Herald Dirk, but I have something that should have been done weeks ago to do. I can't really explain it," especial/v considering something here doesn't want me talking about magic, "but it's related to my being Shadowmoon, and I have to go back to my Clan to do it. I was planning to ask for a leave to do so."

MUSIC THERAPY by Ricky Kimsey
    Bard Matraca took her seat next to the Herald. If there was one thing in the Kingdom that was an excellent source of material it was the Heralds. If she got him in a relaxed mood he might just open up and give her enough material to work with.
    As the two spoke Matraca learned that her companion was Herald Jasin Sumner and he told her stories about the invasion two years ago by Prince Ancar of Hardorn and missions within the borders of Karse. For an hour Matraca gently prodded Jasin to tell her more stories. The Herald continued with his stories while the Bard took mental notes for future reference. With a bit of dramatic license she would be able to take the Herald's stories and turn them into a whole cycle of songs.

ABUSE? by Ricky Kimsey
    When Jasin Sumner returned to consciousness he saw looking down at him a familiar, olive-skinned face.
    "Arrgh! Get her away from me! Get her away, please!"
    Three Healers tied to restrain and calm the badly injured Herald. "I've never seen such a violent reaction from a Herald, and I've never even met him before," said Healer Karolyn Mata to her fellow Healers.
    "Perhaps he's mistaken you for someone else, Karol," replied Deanah.
    Karolyn's eyes brightened. "Of course! He must think I'm Matraca!"

THE GIFT by Kay Darby
    When Reyalla came out of her reverie, she glanced around the room. The fifteen students had various expressions. Most looked a little bored, some looked mildly interested, and two, Reyalla was amused to notice, were virtually hanging onto Herald Rollen's every word. Both were Bardic students.
    Me, I just feel plain tired. The thought made Reyalla's eyelids droop lower. When she felt a light tap on her left shoulder, she roused herself enough to look behind and see Deyan slide a note to her. The paper crackled slightly as she carefully opened the note. Reyalla was expecting writing, but instead there was a meticulously drawn caricature of herself riding Trinn, balancing precariously on one stirrup with arms flailing, mouth wide open, and eyes bulging. This caught her off guard and she was hard pressed to stifle a giggle. Reyalla glanced over to see if her teacher noticed.
    During this time, Herald Rollen had paused in his lecture and was writing something on the board when he suddenly chuckled. Apparently the Herald was not the only one startled at his small outburst. Turning around and looking at his class he found fifteen pairs of eyes staring back at him curiously. It bothered the Herald that he couldn't remember what he'd found so funny. He let the thought pass and finished writing the note on the board.
    The class went back to work but Reyalla was disturbed. That's a coincidence. She remained skeptical about whether she had caused Herald Rollen's strange behavior so she continued watching him. Nothing happened after several minutes and Reyalla's eyelids felt heavy again. She managed to keep awake but emitted a huge yawn despite herself. She happened to be watching Herald Rollen when he suddenly stopped what he was doing to release a tremendous yawn.
    Reyalla was startled. It occurred to her that she was somehow making the teacher feel what she was feeling and she had no way of stopping it. When she stood up to leave as inconspicuously as possible, Reyalla saw the entire class looking around nervously for some unseen menace. She panicked and stumbled toward the door. Suddenly, the classroom erupted with people diving out of their desks and tripping over each other trying to get to the door all at once. Reyalla ran.