The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence

by Storm Constantine

  And then, as if Pell’s thoughts had invoked it, from amongst the swirling flakes came a large shadowy shape. It seemed made of snow itself. A sedu took on form, shaking its heavy mane, stamping one foot against the hard ground. Do you need a ride, beloved?

  Pellaz sighed, then smiled. He went to the sedu, grasped its mane and vaulted onto its back. ‘There is still work for us to do,’ he said.

  I know. I’ve walked away from my world, Pellaz. This is where I belong now.

  ‘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.