Tales from the Magicians Skull #10

Tales From The Magician’s Skull is a magazine of all-new swords & sorcery fiction. Issue #10 features cover art by legendary fantasy artist Sanjulian.

Let’s look at the table of contents!

Stories
The Demon Rats by C. L. Werner
The thing lifted its head, strips of paper hanging from its iron fangs. Only for a moment did its beady red eyes return the samurai’s furious stare. Then the gleaming steel of the sword was flashing towards it.

The Eye of Kaleet by Jeffery Sergent
Whisps of shadow, like dancing flames, bled from its outline. As a rumble like thunder filled the room, which reverberated in Jade’s chest, the single eye, its pupil slit down the middle, fixed upon her.

Green Face, Purple Haze by Marc DeSantis
The baron ordered us in. He was a good fighter. Past middle age, but as tough as nails. Iron-gray hair. He frightened me. Reminded me of my old drill sergeant.

The Sorcerer’s Mask by Jason Ray Carney
The Rogue came to Chel on a secret errand. It did not concern Lech, but the Rogue’s innocence did not matter either: from the moment the Rogue crossed the threshold of the portcullis into the gatehouse, the sorcerer’s spies, unseen as cockroaches, shadowed and scampered after the Rogue.

The Black Pearl of the Sunken Lands by Cynthia Ward
It was the head of an enormous sea-serpent they saw: a frilled and horn-bristling head, clad in scales which shimmered through every shade of green and blue, and baring fangs longer than Bruko’s arm.

A Simple Errand by Matthew John
"Who won’t find us? Speak plainly, sorcerer!" His hands curled into clubs and violent urges flamed in his breast. He would not ask the question again.

Nzara by D. J. Tyrer
Mbeva pointed towards a baobab tree. In a hollow of its trunk crouched a woman, while below a lioness, larger than the male they had killed, paced back and forth.

The Silent Mound by Charles D. Shell
"Men can forget their feuds when confronted with such horror. These Talking Folk, despite their appearance, were not men. They were something wearing the shapes of men, but they weren’t men."

Dakagna and the Blood Scourge by W. J. Lewis
She held him to her, heard his last bubbling gurgles as one arrow, two, three, thumped into his back. She threw the corpse shield aside and sprang away.