A Little Night Muse(8)

                Before Adelyn could ask that plaintive question, the corridor                     ended in a small, empty chamber.

                The end of the road. And the beginning of one.

                While wisps drifted in dreamy helixes, EveStar eased the                     satchel from Adelyn’s tight clutch. The handmaid sprinkled a pinch of spores in                     a circle. “May you find what you’re looking for, child, what you truly                     seek.”

                Adelyn saw nothing past the rapidly sprouting spores. Tears                     blurred everything else. When the mushrooms were knee high, a gust of                     otherworldly air whirled through. Her breath hitched on the overwhelming fusion                     of wet dirt, hot metal and air chilled to a biting edge. Would she ever again                     feel the sanctuary of the court’s magic around her? Her thighs twitched with the                     desire to run. But there was no place to hide in the phaedrealii. Which left her no choice.

                Clamping one hand over her nose and mouth, she stepped into the                     circle, into the sunlit world.





                                      Chapter 2

                At the bottom of the river valley, Josh Reimer halted                     his horse to watch the morning sun break over the hills. The peaks thrust out of                     last night’s snow, crisp against the blue sky. In moments, sunlight bathed the                     icy dell, raising curls of mist, straight out of a fairy tale. Eastern Oregon                     knew how to do late-winter mornings: pure, serene and wide open.

                Of course, some people called it                     barren, boring and lonely as hell. Josh blinked as the snow glare clouded the                     vision in his one bad eye and reined in the wayward thought with a harshness                     he’d never use on Bunco. Now why had he gone and thought of his ex on such a                     pretty day? Probably because last night has been cold as a cast iron                     commode.

                “Could’ve used a hot body in my bunk.” He glanced down at the                     cattle dog, waiting patiently beside Bunco’s hooves. “Besides you, boy.”

                Wolly wagged his red stub of a tail agreeably but kept his gaze                     on the three-story house at the far end of the field.

                “Something up?” Josh drew his rifle from the saddle scabbard.                     Closing his scarred eye, he sighted down the scope, sweeping the homestead.                     Nothing. He had already made plans to check his neighbors’ cabin after the hard                     freeze, so he kept the rifle in hand as he steered Bunco down the valley,                     skirting the creek that burbled under the retreating ice.