Programming Magic

by newtypeshadow

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/108670.html)

To elf gamers, Jericho was a hero. His virtual role-playing game was the first the magical beings had been able to play in the twelve years they had been public. Magic still played merry havoc on most game systems—electronics, too—but Jericho’s company was the first to find a way around that.

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Pulling Together

by newtypeshadow

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/100031.html)

David and Jordan frowned at the moonlit ranch-style cabin they were staying in for the week. It was too dark out to see the mountains beyond. “Why do we have to share a room?” Jordan groused, dragging his suitcase into the house and down to the basement. The room he and his brother would be sharing was at the end of the hallway, and the only other bedroom in the house.

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There’s No Place Like Home

by Newtypeshadow

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/88122.html)

Ethan looked up from his homework when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but his phone said it was from somewhere in Europe, and his heart skipped a beat. He made himself breathe in and out once, but couldn’t make himself do it again before picking up the phone; he was pretty sure it was Xander, and Xander never had much time to talk. “Hello?”

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by newtypeshadow

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/82446.html)

When the servant opens the door to her private library, Lady Catherine thinks it is Tessa with the lemonade. Instead it is one of the maids, come to say Tessa has taken it to the parlor, where Lord Seaton is waiting. “How does he look?” Lady Catherine is certain he plans to propose again, and just as certain he knows she will refuse.

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Lost And Found

by Newtypeshadow
illustrated by festivewind

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/63854.html)

Notes: Dedicated to theillusionist in honor of her birthday and all-around awesomeness. Betaed with patience by shadowgoddess42, pulsebeat, and rosalyn_angel.

It was a warm day, and sunlight streamed through the leaves and onto the ground, sprinkling fallen logs and tree trunks and curious ferns with dappled light and brighter color. Tal breathed in the heavy summer air, smelling the honeysuckle bushes strung along their neighbors’ fence and the deeper smell of earth and fresh greenery. It was the height of summer, and he had been aching to get into the woods since even before the end of the advanced class that kept him cooped up in the University for almost a week. Reading in the light through a window was one thing—exploring the woods, taking it all in—sun, life, the beauty of both—well, it was something else entirely. He had grown up in this house, and these woods were his woods. As much as studying kept him out of them, he missed the footpaths he’d pounded into the earth in elementary school making forts and exploring the caves, and he missed climbing trees with a good book and leaning against the trunk and feeling weightless as his imagination transported him to another place and time. Tal remembered going into these woods barefoot when he was young and fearing neither snakes nor the bears his parents told him were sometimes sighted in the area.

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