epilogue
It was such a small thing to take. No one would miss it. She hadn't shown it to Santoine. Not even to Lorelai.
Rhoke had forbidden her to even mention anything about that night. He'd made Santoine swear it too. On their lives.
It was two weeks since Dimarrah had left, and the gouge in her heart was filled somewhat by the Rendahl. She already loved living there. Had her own room, way up on the top floor, with a large enough window that gave her easy access to climb out and sit on the roof at night. To look at the stars. To wonder where Dimarrah might be. To wonder at the lovely smooth thing that she had taken from the Vault.
She had it now in her hand, deciding it looked very much like a conch seashell. But it glowed when she touched it. And if she held it up to her ear, she heard not the soft rush of sea, but a haunting melody. The same one every time. Every now and then she heard snatches of words and phrases, but always in the old language. She thought at first it must be some citytech wizardry. But it had come from the forgotten corners of the Vault. Maybe nearly forgotten forever. Well now it was hers. She would keep its secrets safe.
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YOU ARE READING
Smoke and Shadow: The Fireweaver, Book 1
FantasyDimarrah Folette is a woman accused of murder and awaiting the executioner when a stranger comes for her. Together they unravel secrets that could ignite a war.
