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Cast of Wonders 687: Little Wonders 50 – Quest Tropes

Show Notes

The Last Quest of Corbin the Coward was originally published in Factor Four Magazine, June 2022.


Incite

by Lisa Para

I’m sure of it. The universe thinks I’m destined to become a Main Character.

No way it’s because of my pink hair? But the day after I dyed it from my normal shiny black was when things started to get weird.

My public high school suddenly instituted school uniforms. When I walked in wearing my pleated skirt, a statistically unlikely number of boys got gushing nosebleeds and asked me to join their eclectic clubs. Um, no thank you.

The next afternoon, I had an honest-to-goodness meet-cute with a guy outside the library. I was so absorbed in my book I tripped on the water fountain’s edge. He snatched my novel from the air and folded me into his arms to steady me, but dropped his book in the water in the process. We laughed and our gazes met and it was like time stood still, with pink roses and shiny bubbles rising all around us.

Naturally, I punched him in the face and ran away before he could get the right idea. (Continue Reading…)

bones and a woodland backdrop

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Cast of Wonders 686: The Marrow Gatherer and the Rotten One

Show Notes

Image by biglinker from Pixabay


The Marrow Gatherer and the Rotten One

by Nichole L. Lightner

In a hollow under a dead tree, Clementine hummed an old song to honor the disciples. The song was a tradition passed down from her mother, and her mother’s mother, all the way back to the ones that named the celestial bodies blazing in the sky. Black stars burned in the afternoon’s amber sky, radiating hazy red and purple halos.

Around her, the strangled disciples’ bodies swayed from leafless tree branches, bramble thorns scratched against yellowed bones bulging up from the dirt, and scuttlers danced along the teeth in the trunks of the trees. Clementine sang to bring all the dead disciples peace. To beseech the Great Ones as they did was a cruel life to choose. The path to become an Idol, long-lived and educated in the deepest mysteries of the sky, was dangerous, and the disciples whose minds and bodies broke were brought here to the Starlit Woods, to Clementine’s trees. They died here, with Clementine and the Rotten One. This was also tradition, as ancient and revered as the Great Ones.

The dead disciples’ flesh belonged to the Rotten One, and their eyes belonged to the many-winged mavens. The bone-aphids made their nests in what remained, and Clementine, the marrow gatherer, burned the thin husks of the disciples’ bones in a small, sacred pyre and took the honey. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 683: Born of the Mountain’s Chill


Born of the Mountain’s Chill

by Louise Hughes

I was born on a day of deepest cold, on a mountain wrapped in ice, and lived there without worry for the first fifteen years of my life. Then came the newcomers and their village, fires, and judgement.

They came up onto the high pasture in the thaw season and stood among our silk tents. They sat and shivered and said, “are you not cold?” a lot. They walked around making suggestions to my mother, who was our trader and went to market. She knew the most about talking to other people and she was used to shaking hands with them, which made the rest of us flush. (Continue Reading…)

sepia image of a bear and a woman

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Cast of Wonders 682: The Bear Wife


The Bear Wife

by Catherine George

The bear wife took the cub to mommy and me yoga. She didn’t look much like a bear without her fur, but somehow the other mothers seemed to sense it; when she came in carrying the cub they shifted away, drifting on their yoga mats closer to the windows, to each other. She was left alone in the middle like a stone dropped into a lake, each woman a wave rippling outward. In tree pose she was a lightning-struck pine at the center of a clearing.

It must be something primal, she thought, lifting the cub up in a sun salutation. A smell, maybe, or a musk that hadn’t gone away when the fur came off (worried now, she sniffed at her armpit as she twisted into warrior pose, but she smelled nothing but the plastic roses of her deodorant). Anyway, she didn’t blame them for staying away. The bear was still in there, just below the skin; if any of them threatened the cub she’d tear the heart from their chest.

As the mothers eased into downward dog — a ring of A-frame cabins, each sheltering a baby — the weathered blonde yoga teacher approached her mat and placed a gentle hand on the bear wife’s back, correcting her posture. “Like this,” she said. “Keep your back flat.” The hand pulled away, a bird taking flight, then settled again, on the hunch of her neck. “Focus on pulling the shoulder blades together behind you.”

The bear wife didn’t bother to tell her the hunch would never go away. No amount of focusing on her shoulder blades would remove the grizzly in her. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 681: Little Wonders 48 – Coping Mechanisms

Show Notes

Episode art adapted from an image by Hello Cdd20 from Pixabay


A Chest Full of Storm Clouds

by Elisabeth Ring

It’s Philip’s text that finally does it.

“Happy birthday!” it says. Just those two words. Not, “Happy birthday! I miss you!” Not, “Happy birthday! I’m sorry!” Not, “I was wrong. I love you. Please take me back.”

Happy. Birthday. Exclamation mark.

As if the long, emotionally fraught blocks of text above it, mostly from me, and un-responded to by him, don’t exist. As if he hadn’t broken my heart in a million pieces even before he left. As if we’re the kind of friends you remember to text on their birthday but not well enough to come up with anything more creative than just “Happy birthday!”

Reading that text, I feel something break loose deep inside. I maybe haven’t been handling the breakup well to begin with, plus work has been extra tough lately and I’m going to have to juggle credit cards to pay for everything this month. This text just unleashes everything I’ve been keeping locked up and I know I need to get to a storm chamber or I might actually explode. (Continue Reading…)

colourful rabbit silhouettes on a red background

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Cast of Wonders 680: Firecrackers on 28 Mott Street


Firecrackers on 28 Mott Street

by Angela Liu

The children wield firecrackers as they enter the old shop on Mott Street. Copper wind bells chime as the door closes behind them.
Inside, velvet curtains block all natural light. Here the glow of porcelain lamps and red paper lanterns light the space. Glass display cases line the walls like a dusty museum: enchanted ivory boxes carved with intricate beasts, voice-altering fox masks, curse paper, flutes for conjuring love songs. Behind the unmanned register, a grinning cat amulet dangles on the wall alongside framed photos of the neighborhood’s most decorated magicians and standing next to each of them, in her signature tiger-print vest, is Miss Lin, the proud owner of 28 Mott Street, the last General Alchemy Shop in Chinatown.

Dino’s the first one to walk up to the display cases.

“Is that it?” he says, pressing a finger to the glass.

Sally swats his hand away. “You know Miss Lin likes to keep everything spotless.” (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 679: Sometimes It Happens That Way (Staff Picks 2025)


Sometimes it happens that way

by Jamie Lackey

I stood on the platform bundled up in one of my pa’s old work coats, its stained, fraying cuffs hanging well past my fingertips. The acrid stink of magic was thick in the air, rolling off the engine in hot waves. My ma took me by the shoulders and shook me, her fingers cold and hard even through the heavy coat.

“Your uncle lined up a good job for you out west,” she said, leaning close to shout over the steady rumble of the engine and the din of strangers’ voices. She smelled like the expensive formula my baby sister needed, powdery and sweet. “You work hard, and we can bring you back home in a few years.” She tucked my train ticket into my pocket.

I nodded. The thought of leaving home made my stomach curdle like old milk on a hot day, but I was almost twelve years old. I wanted to contribute. I was small for my age, and not strong, not like my older brothers and father. But my uncle had found me a job where small was what the bosses wanted. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 676: A Siren Stranded in a Sea of Grass (Staff Picks 2025)


A Siren Stranded in a Sea of Grass

by Courtney Farr

1. Sowing

The Great Plains can be disorientatingly flat, feeling more akin to the distant oceans than to the forests or mountains of neighboring states. In a tiny oasis anchored by a gnarled old bur oak, two friends lay on a plaid blanket, the ripening wheat spreading out from them as far as the eye could see. The tree once identified the border between two fields, before GPS, satellites and computer mapping rendered the old markers unnecessary.

“I thought sirens lived in the sea?” the farm boy asked his companion. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 674: Witches Racing Cars (Staff Picks 2025)


Witches Racing Cars

by Nadav Schul-Kutas

A small crew is waiting at the starting line. They’re all buzzing around the car, poking and prodding and talking amongst themselves. It won’t start, which is unsurprising. The car never starts on its own, but the young men with big ideas want to know why and the thrill-seekers are worried their team will get disqualified if this goes on any longer. A woman named after a forgotten god points towards a ruined gas station. A figure draped in feathers and marked with machine grease appears from behind the ARCO’s crumbling walls.

Finally, the witch is here. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 673: Chloe Chew and the Museum of Undead Art (Staff Picks 2025)


Chloe Chew and the Museum of Undead Art

by Olivia B. Chan

In Chloe Chew’s suffocating hometown, there’s only one place fit for necromancy: the parking lot outside Em’s motel, where summer heat wavers above cracked pavement, blurring the darkness on the horizon. Forest fires have driven away all the tourists, so Chloe’s safe to prepare her resurrection materials between the yellow lines.

She presses her hands to the torn-up canvas as it flaps in the wind off the highway, Asperthbell’s skyline rippling in its peeling acrylic. Her victim is a painting she found in the back of Miss Plent’s classroom, wedged between old answer keys, entirely forgotten. Perfect for a resurrection. She recognizes Asperthbell’s gas station in its streaks of red, but besides that the painting’s portrayal of her hometown is unrecognizable—no ash. No smoke.

The painting’s ghost trembles in her hands. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 672: Feeding Spirits (Staff Picks 2025)


Feeding Spirits

by Emmi Khor

What does one feed a hungry ancestor? Fish and chips, chicken parmi, or steak pie didn’t seem like something my recently deceased Popo would enjoy.

I’d just returned from my backyard swamp with a full trash bag, when the phone rang. The call bounced with around-the-world echoes and I’d barely said hello, when Ma started in on her visit to the medium.

“I asked your Popo if she was comfortable. Ai yah, Li-Li,” cried Ma, “she scolded me! She said: Twenty years my granddaughter doesn’t come home. I go all the way to Australia to visit and she doesn’t even offer me a meal.” The click of Ma’s tongue was like a slap. “You should respect your ancestors!” (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 671: Poets of Painswick (Staff Picks 2025)


Poets of Painswick

by Kate Francia

Monday, 1st of June

Dear Mama,

I am sorry to tell you that Fanny is out hunting Poets again. It’s such a bore. She’ll be tiresome when she gets back, obv. sans Poets. No good telling her we don’t have the right sort of climate, or that she’d be sorry indeed if she caught one. She’ll persist in calling that bit of meadow above the duck pond “the moor,” lying in the grass pretending she’s just been thrown from her horse. Papa won’t let her take the plow horse, so she pretends hers has run off.

Later: A bit of excitement. Fanny has contrived to twist her ankle out on “the moor.” It’s swollen to a frightful size. She’s mum on how she managed to walk home on it. (You mustn’t worry; she is perfectly well. Carrying on dreadfully, but you know how she is.)

Spoke to Papa after she retired, in re: something must be done. But as usual, No One Listens To Me. (Continue Reading…)