“It was nearly dark as they passed the tall shadows of two trees and followed a well-worn track into the village of Falanor. There were no torches in sight, no oiled sheepskin windows glowing with the warm light of candles. Nothing moved. Grace clutched Shandis’s reins, afraid this village had suffered the same fate as Tarafel. Then a jagged line of red arced from horizon to horizon, and in the hot strobe Grace caught the outlines of two dozen structures. All stood unharmed. She forced the breat...h from her lungs. Even in Calavere most people went to bed at dark. And here, in a village on the fringes of the Dominion, it was doubtful they had much fat to spare for luxuries like lamps or candles. Everyone was asleep, that was all. “This way,” Kalleth said above the moan of the wind. “The manor is just ahead.” Another flash of lightning honed the hard lines of the knight’s face. Slow thunder rolled. The other riders followed after him. “Do you feel it, sister?” Grace jumped in her saddle at the whisper, the sound of which was somehow more unnerving than the crash of the electrical storm.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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