Hot and Cold

The runes set her skin on fire, as if she’d been thrust into the middle of a midsummer bonfire. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to run, but she was propelled forward by unseen force, further into the heat - and abruptly, inexplicably, into cold.

Dakshana was in a room made of stone, as if someone had carved a cave into a house. She hadn’t known this was possible. The floor was strewn with soft animal skins. And standing in the middle of the room, robed in black shadows, was Chadstone.

“Welcome,” he said, “to my world.”