Tá grian gheal an tsamhraidh ag damhsa ar mo theach. The summer sun is dancing on the roof of my house.
She broke from the trees and came to a cliff that plunged down to cold waters. Her smile faded. A confusion of memories clouded her thoughts; shadows of another self, another life. She gazed down at the waves that struck the rocks in a fury of white froth. Why had she come here? What had drawn her to this place? Her skin shimmered faintly with a tint of gold. Her hair was wreathed with white blossoms. She stared around her, lost.
Then she froze.
It was like a wound in the earth: a gash of red mist like vaporized blood. Writhing through the grass, it trailed over the stony summit and into the mountains beyond.
She let out a cry.
The wind caught her cry and cast it through the air like a net, a summons. Out on the water, a gray seal surfaced. Overhead, the skirr of bird wing as seagulls came to land. A robin fluttered onto her shoulder. Small animals scampered from their hideaways to form a circle around her—foxes, hares, field mice, badgers. On the slope above, a horned goat and a wild deer inclined their heads to hear what she might say.
“A shadow of the Destroyer has entered the kingdom.”
Her words were met with sounds of dismay and terror. She herself was undone. Trembling, she struggled to keep her voice firm.
“Be of good courage. I will take charge of this matter. Keep watch for the one I will send among you.”
The Summer King Page 27
