There were only two PodCastle stories for February, but the sight of a PodCastle Giant, “Hell is the Absence of God,” appearing on my iPod caused me pleasurable anticipation—I looked forward to hearing another of Ted Chiang’s well-crafted, thoughtful stories. The pleasure was soured, however, by James Trimarco’s leaden reading, which robs the narrative of cohesive flow, making what should have been an ingenious commentary on religious belief seem merely tedious. The story follows the struggles of a number of characters to reconcile the quixotic judgment of a fickle god, in a world where angels really do appear to people and perform miracles. Or not. I wanted to like it, as the issues—such as the problem of evil—deserve attention even in fantasy, but I found the narration to be a serious obstacle.

It was a relief, therefore, to come to “Dragon Hunt” by Sarah Prineas, which is an enjoyable, literate tale of the hunt for the so-called last dragon—a touching story with a wonderfully understated reading by Wilson Fowlie (check out his impression of Christopher Lee as the dragon). Sometimes, amongst the experimental fantasy, the urban surrealism, and the just plain weird, it’s the traditional tales of knights on a quest and talking dragons that satisfy the most.

In contrast to the sparsity of PodCastle, Pseudopod delivers a full complement this month, beginning with Maura McHugh’s “Bone Mother.” Fantasy rather than horror, this tells of a witch who accepts a trade from a visitor to her sentient home. The old crone can’t resist the offer of a blue rose—promising to restore her youth—in exchange for some witchcraft. The duplicitous visitor, however, prevails on the house to spill its secrets, and so the witch sets out for revenge. It’s tightly written, and expertly read by Cat Rambo, but the deeper references to folklore run the risk of obscurity for anyone not familiar with the genre.

For sheer mundane surrealism, “Bottle Babies” by Mary A. Turzillo (read by Ben Phillips) takes some beating. Eight-year-old Allie makes friends with fairies, who help in attempting to rescue her 13-year-old brother from his “bottle,” into which his parents placed him as an infant. Allie’s parents want to keep her too in some kind of coffin. The whole thing is intensely weird, but grounded in day-to-day reality—and as a result is terribly disturbing. That something so strange could be part of normal life makes this story a fine example of fantastical horror.

In “The Greatest Adventure of All” by Ian McHugh, a group of scientists are secretly experimenting with near-death experience—similar to the film Flatliners (and acknowledged as such). The story is written with gritty realism and benefits from Alasdair Stuart’s confident narration. After some of those brought back from the other side have apparently life-changing experiences, it is next the turn of the first-person viewpoint character. What he finds is something that should not be widely disseminated. It’s creepy and disturbing, like good horror should be.

“Rosemary Lane” by Kate Kelly (read by Alasdair Stuart), a Pseudopod Flash, is a first-person ghost story, spanning the years between one murder and another. Creepy cogitation in the undergrowth, as a lonely child sees the ghost, and is then unsurprisingly disbelieved by the taunting group of which she is not really a part. Atmospheric, concise, and well read by Alasdair Stuart.

Finally from Pseudopod we have another over-the-top but hugely enjoyable story from Grady Hendrix, with perfect-fit narration by the incomparable Alasdair Stuart (I can’t imagine anyone else reading these “Tales of the White Street Society”). This one, “The Corpse Army of Khartoum,” tells of an obnoxious adventurer’s quest to retrieve a severed head reputed to speak the future. Though fun, this is a darker story than its series predecessor, hinting that our narrator—if not the adventurer himself—has a conscience.

Escape Pod still appears to be in a state of flux, with only two stories this month (as with PodCastle, though one of those was a “Giant”). “Summer in Paris, Light from the Sky” by Ken Scholes is alternate history, a subgenre for which I seem to have a blind spot. Here we have the story of Adolf Hitler, Ernest Hemingway, and other contemporary notables frittering away their lives in a Parisian bar in an alternate world where the Jews are still persecuted, and where it takes the goodness of Hitler and his drinking chums to make a difference to the status quo. Ingenious, but I consistently fail to see the point of such a radically alternative storyline. The build-up is so drawn out, emphasized by Alex Wilson’s despairing (though nevertheless competent) narration, that the presence of some bit of action in the closing quarter is a welcome relief. It’s not, however, a scenario I’d want to revisit.

In a future when full body transplants are possible (brain transplants, in effect), the loyalty and public service of police officers give them priority for such a costly medical procedure. As you might guess, it has its downsides. Genevieve Valentine’s understated “29 Union Leaders Can’t Be Wrong” follows one police officer, fatally shot in the call of duty, as he resurrects in another body. Inhabiting a different body takes some getting used to, and not only for the resurrectee. Such a transformation will have far-reaching effects on a marriage, and on other personal relationships, especially the one relationship that contributed most to the necessity of the transplant itself. Downbeat but gripping—and expertly read by Chris Lester.

Beneath Ceaseless Skies is a new audio fiction podcast, featuring podcast versions of stories published in text form in the online magazine of the same name, which is a paying market for short-form literary adventure fantasy. In February, they put out three podcasts, the first being “Dragon’s-Eyes” by Margaret Ronald. This is traditional fantasy, concerning dragons and an aging swordsman who serves his sovereign as a torturer. It’s long, but well written and read. (The narrator for all three stories is presumably Scott H. Andrews, Beneath Ceaseless Skies’ Editor-in-Chief, though this isn’t stated.) The swordsman/torturer is sent on a mission to find the source of “dragon’s-eyes”—illegal gems circulating on the black market, and in his quest he meets a mother and daughter who agree to let him travel with them. He suspects the mother is herself the dealer, while at the same time he is fascinated by the daughter, whose belief about her origins eventually precipitates the plot’s climax. Literate and engaging, with excellent narration and audio quality, this bodes well for other audio fiction from the same stable.

In Tina Connolly’s “The God-Death of Halla,” Halla is an orphan seeking to make her way by selling stolen goods in order to buy land and regain her station in life. But she suffers from a debilitating sensitivity that afflicts her whenever someone receives the judgment of the “Mouth”—the human embodiment of a cruel god. Skillful writing lends this scenario credibility, delivering Halla’s backstory in comprehensible snippets as the story progresses. The ending isn’t a total surprise, but neither is it a letdown, and it’s sufficiently open to allow for the reader/listener’s own interpretation. Well written, read, and produced.

Michael J. DeLuca’s “Of Thinking Being and Beast” is the last story for February. It’s set in the milieu of King Midas and the Minotaur, but includes many other mythical, fantastical beasts. The first-person narrator is some kind of centaur himself, who runs the menagerie supplying beasts for the king’s sport. The clarity of the plot is not helped, however, by the author’s use of multiple terms for the animals, making it difficult to tell if the beast in question is the same or a different one. In this case, the reading, though competent, hinders comprehension by being too even, irrespective of the pacing of the story. This one disappointed me, but two out of three is not a bad score, and I shall be listening to more from Beneath Ceaseless Skies in the coming months.