Chadstone leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand, staring into the depths of the scrying pool. As much as he sometimes yearned with every shard of his being to be human, he was Shadow enough to enjoy the beauty of his own game.
The girls shivered as the illusion of the Place of Names wavered, vanished, reformed - into a forest. The same forest Dakshana had played in as a child, had danced through for the midsummer festival. It was perfect down to the last detail - a fallen leaf, a gnarled branch.
And the eyes, glittering in the branches.
No comments:
Post a Comment