Czerneda, Julie E. (ed) - Ages of Wonder / Чернеда, Джулия (ред) - Эпохи чудес [2009, epub, ENG]

The Curse Tablet short story by Nina Kiriki Hoffman To Play the Game of Men short story by Caitlin Sweet Mist Wraith short story by Urania Fung Written in Smoke short story by Karina Sumner-Smith Cloud Above Water short story by Natalie Millman Crossing the Waters short story by Ika Vanderkoeck Here There Be Monsters short story by Brad Carson A Swift Changing Course short story by Jana Paniccia Blood and Soil short story by Ceri Young Fletcher's Ghost short story by Liz Holliday Immigrant short story by Sandra Tayler A Small Sacrifice short story by Kristen Bonn Pony Up short story by Linda A. B. Davis Gold at the End of the Railroad short story by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough The Stone Orrery short story by Jennifer Crow Sphinx! short story by Tony Pi A Bird in the Hand short story by Queenie Tirone Mars Bound short story by K. J. Gould Angels and Moths short story by Costi Gurgu

Lucius found the witch at one of the termopolia near Ostia Harbor. She sat on a stone bench near the sale counter of the sidewalk restaurant, a pottery bowl of puls porridge in her lap and a wedge of bread in her hand. The restaurant was doing brisk business—many people stopped by for their breakfasts; the man behind the counter was hard-pressed to keep up with requests for round loaves of bread. A child darted in and pulled a loaf from the bottom of a stack so skillfully the shopkeeper never noticed it. Lucius remembered doing things like that before his mother sold him to Gaius Tullius Paulus. The spring air was soft, damp, and almost warm, heavy with scents of smoke and sewage. A lot of good-natured shouting and joking filled the air. Toward the water, someone played a flute, but Lucius could not catch the melody, only a sense of the music, which was melancholy and carried a thin thread of power. Lucius had his own flute tucked into his waistband under a fold of tunic. It was a memento of his childhood, when he had played for money and food in the marketplace with his mother, sister, and older brother. He rarely found time to play these days. Most people ate as they walked toward their work, but some squatted on the sidewalk to eat, or sat on benches under the overhanging arches of the shops that lined the street. The donkey-driven mills in the center of the building were grinding grain, adding to the cacophony. The smell of baking bread made Lucius hungry; he had had his own breakfast at dawn, a couple hours earlier. No one sat near the witch. She tossed crumbs into the street. Small birds landed to eat the crumbs, scattering every time someone came near. . . .