Shards of the Moon
la'
am came
. Same cold hands
of my hands tried to squeeze my throat while they remembered swimming movements. My chest feels the residual effect of swallowing water inside my dream. Lungs. A mere vision was all it turned out
never told
create golden patches in the small room where Mother Elya and I lived together in the village. The pulse of my heart continued wh
n-until the dreams s
ugh the doorway. "I need your hands on the
nd me. I tried to ignore the itch of the mark on my skin, the way it thrummed
alm of mountain root and sage. He winced but didn't cry. I whispered
him. I didn't
isper from somewhere else-de
eople were myths, stories whispered to children on long winter nights. People who glowed with power were b
-dead in the forest at age five. Rai
mething chan
ous. His cloak was scorched; one arm twisted at a sickening angle. The villa
a muttered, her hands trembli
s tingling with a strange light. I pressed my hands again
from me like wate
ound
ried "Spirit magic!" and t
llap
, Elya looked afraid of me, and I kne
ire in his blood would soon see a v
ould com