Adventitious #2, April/May 2026
“All Under Heaven” by Marie Brennan
“Madam Strzyga’s Pagan Pest Control” by Katharine Tyndall
“Fernie” by Angela Liu
“Passing Through” by Laurie Doyle (reprint, not reviewed)
“We Decay in the Dark” by Ayida Shonibar
“Of Sight, Of Mind, Of Heart” by Samantha Murray (reprint, not reviewed)
“Penance” by Jennifer Hudak
“Fractal House” by Merc Fenn Wolfmoor (reprint, not reviewed)
“Raze My Brain, Open My Eyes” by Faith Allington
“Spirit alembic keeper” by Emma Burnett (reprint, not reviewed)
“The Place of Oblation” by Deborah L. Davitt
“Last Edit to THE ALL BANGERS LIST Made By Your Sex Robot at 11:39 A.M.” by Natalie Zutter
“Fire and Brimstone” by S. I. Fapohunda
“Biter” by Michelle Knudsen
Reviewed by Axylus
Adventitious is a fresh and appealing publication that brings a unique vibe. Its blend of science fiction, horror and fantasy is definitely worth looking into. This issue focuses on monsters of all kinds.
Marie Brennan’s “All Under Heaven” retells the life and death of Oda Nobunaga, a historical samurai and daimyō who played a pivotal role in sixteenth century Japan. After an intriguing opening, the prose settles into flat chronicle-like voice, stripping away its immediacy and appeal. While the milieu and characters are interesting, they are largely lifted straight from history. Ultimately, the understated ending delivers a twist that isn’t especially twisty.
“Madam Strzyga’s Pagan Pest Control” by Katharine Tyndall is an uncanny story of adaptation to modern times. In current-day Warsaw, a paranormal exterminator named Madam Strzyga makes a living trapping pests from Slavic folklore. Called in to help a boy mesmerized by unknown forces, she uses a spell to extract a rusalka (water-sprite) inhabiting his iPad, then charges his desperate mother a hefty fee. Returning to the privacy of her car, Madam Strzyga drops her disguise, revealing her true nature.
Angela Liu’s “Fernie” is a brief but delightful tale. In it, a young time-traveling girl named Sally adopts a talking Cretaceous plant and names it Fernie. Unbeknownst to her, Fernie is a spy studying the behavior of human “Beasts.” Viewing Sally as a powerful leader whose mind it cannot read, Fernie becomes her “apprentice” and uses its telepathy to aid her. Fernie eventually realizes it genuinely enjoys being Sally’s companion. This is one of those stories that you really wish had been explored at greater depth. Despite its abbreviated length and abrupt ending, “Fernie” is recommended.
There are two rival factions (“Nightdwellers” and “Daylurkers”) in Ayida Shonibar’s post-apocalyptic novelette “We Decay in the Dark,” and each survives on near-starvation levels of their main crop: aubergine and pumpkin, respectively. Members of the factions believe that the two plants are mutually poisonous. Elite Nightdweller assassin Tanika is commissioned to kill a blind Daylurker farmer named Lux. However, physical contact triggers hallucinations in Tanika of a past life in which the two of them were lovers. Lux has a secret: he plants the aubergine and pumpkins together, and they thrive. Tanika discovers that the leaders of the two factions have conspired together to create artificial food scarcity and turn societal division into war by separating mutualistic pumpkin and aubergine crops and lying about their nature. Rebelling against this control, Tanika and Lux plant the crops together to prove they thrive in tandem, exposing their leaders’ lies and launching a revolution.
The milieu of Shonibar’s story is intriguing. However, despite being written in first person, the tale lacks any sense of closeness to Tanika, who does not posses a strong or memorable voice. Characters seem wooden, their words and actions plot-driven.
In “Penance” by Jennifer Hudak a prisoner serves as a maintenance worker on the skin of a colossal god in space, scraping debris from its flesh as punishment. Despite working in a suit designed to block divine sound, the narrator begins hearing the god’s words. A fellow prisoner hints that she hears it too, but warns against paying attention. Hanging in dreadful suspense, wondering whether she is either hopelessly insane or gloriously chosen as a prophet, the narrator eventually removes her helmet to commune with the god. The ending of the story has a bleak, gut-wrenching and satisfying twist, but its emotional impact is undercut by rushed execution. Giving the final revelation more room to breathe, more suspense, more emotional reaction, would have offered a meaningful improvement. The story elements were definitely present to wrench my gut even more emphatically, given a bit more creation and release of tension. Having said that, this tale is definitely recommended.
In fewer than 300 words, Faith Allington draws a scene that pivots between wonder, tender, aching memories, and chilling horror. Some of the writing in her story “Raze My Brain, Open My Eyes” is impressive, beautiful: “Algal cells bright as gold poured into my mouth, earth-stained and herbal.” This vividly drawn tale is framed as a farewell message to a former romantic partner explaining why the narrator has joined the Rust, an alien (?) collective that has taken over a portion of the Earth. It/they offer immortality by merging humans with all living organisms into one cohesive, conscious ecology, at a keen price. Definitely recommended.
In “The Place of Oblation” by Deborah L. Davitt, interstellar archaeologist Dr. Nanaya Urban investigates a distant planet, including a site of preserved buildings filled with artifacts but no remains. Her colleague Janvier disappears after attempting to remove an object from a central altar. When she discovers the altar’s purpose, she puts it to poignant use.
“Last Edit to THE ALL BANGERS LIST Made By Your Sex Robot at 11:39 A.M.” by Natalie Zutter is a story of romantic obsession told entirely in the voice of an AI pleasure-bot named Rob. The ironic twist is that the character in the grip of an irrational idée fixe is Rob himself, and his owner is just not that into him.
“Fire and Brimstone” by S. I. Fapohunda is a tale of witchcraft, grief, survivor’s guilt, and healing. A girl named Idit, whose magical drum-trance helps her dance through fire, keeps vigil in the remains of her charred village, watching over the scorched corpse of a girl who had loved her. Idit feels deep guilt because her magic could not stop the destruction of her village. A strange witch-healer child named Nnu arrives and helps Idit find mending and renewal, releasing her from guilt through an act of grace. The dialogue seemed forced and a little too therapy-based.
In “Biter” by Michelle Knudsen, a woman’s great-uncle bequeaths her an ugly beast that is a failed example of his stock-in-trade: magical custom creatures. Reluctantly taking it back to her small apartment, she makes a discovery that makes her wonder if the creature isn’t a mistake at all, but an act of unexpected grace. This slick, seamless fantasy tale presents healing of a magical fashion, but just didn’t pack quite enough of an emotional impact.