(excerpt from The Elder, the next book in The Martuk Series)
I wiped my cheek and lifted my head.
The Child had stopped, her body still, her blood-drenched toes far from the ground, her face stained red as she watched me with bleeding eyes.
The Seer had stopped, the bent body now still, waiting.
The wolves were quiet, their bodies hidden in the dark, waiting.
She spoke, The Child, her words silently on The Seer’s lips.
“Made of ash, of stone, burning from the bones, warriors and Queens, a woman trapped in time, a rival drawing near, hatred, love, pain, hatred, love, pain, hatred … ”
The bones crunched and snapped as her head circled quick, chin to chest and then back, her mouth opened and closed, opened and closed.
Then she paused.
And then spoke again.
“He will come, the one you seek, with the death, the life, stepping through the light, walking on the bones.”
She then closed her eyes …