Here grew willows and alders, their trunks twisted like giants’ sinews. Around them bark lichen bloomed blue-white in the darkness. It felt like a good place, where there was old magic.
I don’t think I believe in any god,” Merla said. “I think we make our own destiny. I think religion is superstition. Does that shock you?” Agata shook her head and smiled. “If the Goddess is kind, then she will allow you your doubts, and em...
I don’t think I would be very good at killing,” Merla said. “To be honest, nor do I. But you may have to.” A disturbing thought came to Merla. “Faye,” she asked, “have you killed a person?” There was a moment’s silence. “Let’s j...
The wyvern swooped, but it was not to rend and tear but rather to bank and stare with one curious beady eye at the bodies of the minds that had touched hers in a way that no human had dared to do for hundreds of years. Such a slender and delicate cre...
Colm was a good sleeper. But if there was one sound at night that should wake him, and any sensible man who loved his family, it was the barking of dogs. The noise was coming from the village. It was not just one or two dogs, but surely every mangy c...
