Excerpts From Nonexistent Books

“And you don’t think anything of it?” I said.

He took a purposeful drag on the cigarette, pulled his mask down, and exhaled.

“The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born; now is the time of monsters.” The smoke streamed from the sides as he spoke, his eyes pressed shut against the stinging fumes. “The question folks need to ask themselves is, which sort of monster do they want to be? Are they gonna be the monsters we see in old pictures, condemned, or are they gonna be the monsters whose crimes are forgiven–heroes?”

“Which are you?”

He laughed. “Ask whatever’s left in 10 years.”

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Thomas rode by the assembled bands, close enough that any could have reached out and touched him. Geoff noticed that a rather curious sword bounced by Thomas’s side, and poked Marie in the ribs. “What’s that?”

“Thomas of Visreu is a peasant,” was her reply. “He killed his first enemy with a sickle. So as a reminder of that, he had his sickle-blade set into a hilt and he still bears it as a sword. He is sworn, after the revolt, to plunge it into the Prince-Regent’s heart himself.”

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“Nurse, bring me 50ccs of buckshot, would you? I’ve got some patients who disagree with my diagnosis of death, and I’m not having the coroner up my ass about this.”

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Crested caracara (Ramphastos aurantius)
Notes: Seemed to be observing me. Noted it noting me on a sort of list.

Cinereous owl (Erythrorhynchos magnificens)
Notes: Seen at 1:32 PM. Did not give a hoot.

Magellanic diving petrel (Acrocephalus macronyx)
Notes: Patagonian species. Reverse migration?

Slaty-mantled goshawk (Fytchii desmaresti)
Notes: Observed swimming in circles at the bottom of the lake. Reverse flight pattern?

Robust reticulated woodpecker (Glaucescens corvus)
Notes: Was seen pecking Medusa worms out of petrified wood.

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Halmahera swiftlet (Auritus chacuru)
Note: Sonic boom was audible, so bird was within +/- 1 mile.

Scaly-throated honeyguide (Albeola dactylatra)
Note: Did not guide me to honey. Possibly a misidentified scaly-throated misguide.

Spotted thick-knee (Aberti leptotila)
Note: I knew it by the bones strewn in its wake.

Somber greenbul (Petroica goiavie)
Note: In summer plumage, therefore a cheerful greenbul.

White-headed mousebird (Platyrostris badius)
Note: This just squeaked in at the end of the day.

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Long-billed dowitcher (Autumnalis cinnamominus)
Note: Seen at sunset, so it was unable to sing its song of servitude. I did notice two thrills attending it, though.

Shelley’s francolin (Caesia ptilinopus)
Note: Did not see the francolin, but saw Shelley.

Spot-throated flameback (Pictus crecca)
Note: Extinguished.

Tow-headed lesser bobolink (Bairdii exulans)
Note: Smelled only.

Yellow-spotted barbet (Turnix Palmerstoni)
Note: 10.5 individuals seen in small flock. Winter morph, meaning yellow spots are present but birds will not be barbets until April.

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“I’d make a terrible vampire, really,” said Aloysius, backing away. “I’d suck at it.”

“That’s the idea,” said Graf von Reißzähne as he approached, fangs bared.

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Lazily it droops
Nostrils over sagging mask
Each breath a pestilence
How surprised they will be
When it is time for intubation
And they discover the nose
Is connected to the lungs

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Swanson continued to unpack the long case on his hotel bed, setting out an increasing array of elaborate telescopic sights and mounting brackets.

MacCauley held out a slip of paper. “This is your target,” he said.

“You’re sure it’s accurate?” Swanson didn’t look up,continuing his assembly. Metal clicked against metal, tubes locking solidly into frames.

“This is where Young left them, precisely. I got it from my cousin who works as a secretary at the AWC.”

“Excellent.” Swanson handed over the briefcase of cash he’d prepared earlier. “Check it if you want, it’s all there in Aussie hundreds.”

MacCauley handed over the paper, which Swanson greedily read. It was a latitude and longitude, as well as a grainy image of a small parrot amid some desert grass.

“Now we’ll see who has the best life list at the ornithologist club,” he said, hefting his telescope. “The critically endangered night parrot is about to be mine.”

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“Katarina,” Xanthor said, pointing at his bird. “You know what to do.”

“Ha! The bird does nothing,” shouted Strasser. “You said so your–”

He was interrupted by a tsunami of feathers, flapping and diving and pecking at his face. Strasser, crying out in shock, let his firebolt fly into the roof as he struggled to get the bird out of his face–an opponent too close and too fast for a spell.

Xanthor hauled himself to his feet, bracing himself on a table. He muttered a spell of warding before whistling Katarina to him. As the bird arced across the room, the old wizard let loose a powerful lance of arcane energy that sliced through his distracted rival like a scalpel.

“The bird has no magic,” Xanthor said, breathing heavily. “But that doesn’t mean my friend will do nothing.”

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