"I want to meet him," Katherine declared, her voice firm, reverberating off the crumbling stone walls.
Driscoll’s expression quivered with uncertainty, his ethereal form flickering like a candle in a draft. "Him? Well, I gave you his key."
"How does it work? No more games. Stop ... read more
"I owe him a great debt," Driscoll muttered.
Katherine raised a brow. "What sort of debt isn’t cleared with death?"
Driscoll hesitated, as though the words were heavy on his tongue.
"I’m in bondage. Perhaps it’s part of the curse... I can’t live freely. Can’t leave. All I can ... read more
The horrible vision, the tear in reality. The Half-Man was before me again. And I knew at once this was Driscoll the Historian, and we were in the Hall of Monuments. He no longer scared me. In fact, he was exceedingly comforting. I dreamt of him every night. Or at least, I've dreamed of him at ... read more
Keeping my eyes closed made no difference. I was awake, and it was past time to scramble all my items together and run off to work. No matter how hard I tried to preserve specific scenes, people, words, the details slipped through my fingers. All that remained was a bitterly nostalgic aftertaste ... read more
Deep black is all around. But from far above, tiny swirls of ice catch the light, like lost stars adrift in space. As they sink into the darkness, they lose their individuality, piling into bitter cold.
I am a stone.
My legs, my arms were so numb that I could not find them. Did I ... read more
Dreaming? Strange as the ruined castle and half-man before her were, they were accompanied by none of the warped perspectives and discrete timelines that marked a dream. He was very real, just as substantial as any man in broad daylight...
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