Sphene couldn’t get the image out of her head. The sky had been gray and the wind chilled her to the bone. The practitioner spoke words that had grown so familiar to Sphene that she had decided to simply not listen. She tried to force herself to feel anything, but she didn’t. Standing at the feet of the sea, she saw the bodies as they floated off to the horizon. Twelve, she had counted. The body of Petra and the ones of twelve soldiers that had tried to save her.
Harriet wasn’t sure why she had been so afraid the first time she met her mother. She tried to focused on the white walls of the castle and tried to paint them with the colors she remembered from the in-between. A man escorted her through more white rooms than she could count. She wasn’t thinking about her mother at all as she walked through them. She had thought for so long that her mother was dead, that she wouldn’t believe otherwise until she saw it for herself. To her, this was no different than meeting her mother in a dream, and not much more real either.
Warning: adult themes and depiction of sexual assault. "Sal leads the way through the darkness. We walk a couple of blocks when a single raindrop falls onto my nose. Rain is closing in. I hope the place is close by..."
When a strange woman arrives at his daughter's grave, Marcus takes a journey through the mystical dangers of the forest to hush the spirit of a crying child.