Tide of Shadows and Other Stories by Aidan Moher Read Free Book Online Page B

it mean to fix someone? And who gets to decide whether they’re broken in the first place?
    Commentary on reality television aside, the confined nature of the town in The Truman Show seemed like an interesting place to set a science fiction novel, especially when you factor in a protagonist who is seemingly given the means to escape but cannot. Wings are symbolic of freedom but are useless when even the sky has limits.
    As the author, I have a certain level of insight into my stories beyond what makes it into the text. The words between the lines, if you will. More than any other story I’ve written, though, “The Girl with Wings of Iron and Down” poses so many questions that I’ve never been able to answer. I don’t know who the girl was before she ended up on the space station, and certainly have no answers for how she got there. The technology behind her wings is archaic and beautiful, but how did such anachronistic technology end up in a cutting-edge scientific community?
    These sorts of curiosities are part of what I love so much about being a writer.

Of Parnassus and Princes,
    Damsels and Dragons

The Prince of Copperkettle Vale was a sad, miserable man. He was not handsome; rather, he looked like a toad. He was not kind; rather, he was cruel and took joy in tickling the feet of trussed up prisoners. He was not smart; rather, he paid others to do what needed to be done. But he did rule a kingdom—which bought him virtue and delivered him fame.
    This is the tale of how the despicable Prince of Copperkettle Vale falls in love. Though, as with all the best stories, not everything is as it first appears.
    The Kingdom of Copperkettle Vale will be recognizable to any reader familiar with tales of valour, heroism, adventure, betrayal, and romance. It has rolling hills, bright green as round-cut emeralds; clouds as pale and supple as a maiden's bottom; waterfalls that sing sweet sonnets as they tumble from above; and rivers that cure all ills with but one sweet sip from their clear waters. The horses are gay and wild, the foxes sly and devious, the birds sweet of voice and always singing. It is a paradise—a place where no man is downtrodden, and no trouble is left unsolved.
    The Prince of Copperkettle Vale was raised by a strong father, a king respected by the leaders of kingdoms, baronies, city-states, countries, fiefdoms, duchies, principalities, empires, and nations the world over. His mother loved him and baked him hot scones each morning, slathered with honey sweeter than a baby's laugh and Sunset Cinnamon, known across the land for its russet colour and fiery flavour. He had no brothers with whom he must share his toys, and no sisters over whom he must play protector or white knight. He was given every liberty, every chance to live a childhood of dreams.
    However, a proper tale cannot be told if events unfold easily and as expected.
    From the moment the Prince of Copperkettle Vale left his mother's belly, he cried and cried. He threw tantrums as a two-year-old, ate the larder clean at eight, tossed his father into the moat at thirteen. and by sixteen, he'd stolen and sold several satraps’ most scandalous secrets.
    "He’s a horror!" the people of Copperkettle Kingdom whispered behind their hands. But still they cheered for him every Sunday as he stood on the balcony of his castle, watching them bow and grovel before him. A prince was a prince, after all, no matter how petty and twisted.
    The Queen of Copperkettle Vale was a lovely lady, made plump by decadent desserts, who lived for her son. You will not be shocked to hear, then, that she grew ever more distressed and distraught as her lovely little lad fell further into despair and cruelty. "Oh, what have I done!" she asked her handmaidens. "But where did I go wrong?" she cried to her chef. "Now what can I do?!" she begged of the gardener.
    No one had an answer.
    As mothers are wont to do, the queen began to scheme for the betterment of her son. "He's of an