“Your mother lives in a swamp?” “No.” “Then why are we here?” “My mother is the swamp,” Peregrine said. He leaned towards the mire’s trees, heaped as dark and snarled as bull kelp on a beach. His movement was drunken—he swayed forward, and back, then stumbled in. Ebb hesitated. Peregrine had given him the kind … Continue reading The Seaweed and the Wormhole by Jenn Grunigen