The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence

by Constantine, Storm

  ‘Then let’s go home,’ Pellaz said.

  Peridot lifted his head and made his way along the cliff. He did not go into the otherlanes, but placed his hooves surely on the path. Once they’d left the narrow trail behind and reached the wider road through the rough heath to the town, he picked up speed. His powerful body surged through the whirling air.

  Pellaz laughed aloud, snowflakes stinging his face, blinding his eyes. It was like the time when he’d first met Peridot, when he’d cast off a dull skin to become Tigron. They had traveled through snow in a cold northern country then too.

  I’ve left another skin behind, Pellaz thought.

  Ahead of him, the gates of Freygard opened to them.