Perhaps because it seems so appropriate, I don't notice the rain. It falls in sheets, a blanket of silvery thread rushing to the hard almost-winter ground. Still, I stand without moving at the side of the coffin.
To find the books end, cross the ancient wood to the mystic isle. Until then, prepare yourself for the coming battle. . . AND TRUST NO ONE.
I shake my head. "Remember, Mother. There are no mistakes." She smiles through her tears, leaning in to kiss my cheek "No mistakes, my angel.
