Elfhame (Skeleton Key)
“She felt cold; the fire had died down and she must have kicked off the quilt.
Something was awry with the ceiling. Unease curled through her as she blinked again, trying to clear the muzz of sleep from her head. Pale fabric rose above her, and she lay in a narrow cot. Shouts filtered in from outside, voices raised in a language not her own.
A jolt of wrongness went through her.
She was not lying in the bedroom she shared with her sisters. Not in Little Hazel. Not even in the world she called ho...me.
She was in the Dark Elves’ world, where they were fighting a battle against strange creatures—and it seemed the fight was taking place right outside. Strange glows lit the tent walls, and she heard screeches and howls that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
Carefully she sat up, relieved to find that beneath the tatters of her sleeve her burned arm was only tender and pink. The blisters and searing pain were gone, and she let out a low breath of gratitude.
There was one other patient in the tent, an older Dark Elf, judging by the pale silver of his braided-back hair and the lines at the corners of his strange dark eyes.MoreLess
Something was awry with the ceiling. Unease curled through her as she blinked again, trying to clear the muzz of sleep from her head. Pale fabric rose above her, and she lay in a narrow cot. Shouts filtered in from outside, voices raised in a language not her own.
A jolt of wrongness went through her.
She was not lying in the bedroom she shared with her sisters. Not in Little Hazel. Not even in the world she called ho...me.
She was in the Dark Elves’ world, where they were fighting a battle against strange creatures—and it seemed the fight was taking place right outside. Strange glows lit the tent walls, and she heard screeches and howls that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
Carefully she sat up, relieved to find that beneath the tatters of her sleeve her burned arm was only tender and pink. The blisters and searing pain were gone, and she let out a low breath of gratitude.
There was one other patient in the tent, an older Dark Elf, judging by the pale silver of his braided-back hair and the lines at the corners of his strange dark eyes.MoreLess
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