by Sharon Sala
At first they were faint, and very far away, but as they came down off the ridge into the valley, intending to camp by the water for the night, the drums seemed louder.
Her heart skipped as a knot coiled low in her belly.
In this foreign place where nothing, not even the weather, stayed the same, she felt a sudden sense of the familiar.
“Yuma!”
He turned at the sound of her voice. “I am here.”
“Do you hear them?”
He cocked his head. “Hear what, my love?”
“Drums. I hear drums.”
His eyes narrowed. They must be getting near the place of gathering. “No, I don’t hear them. What are they saying?”
She sighed, her gaze sweeping out across the vast plains of the land before them.
“They are calling me home.”
The End
The Prophecy Series
