"The sea does not rise without reason. In the Fae lands, every wave is an omen, every gust a spell awakened."
The storm had not calmed. If anything, it had grown more furious, wind howling like a wounded beast, rain slashing sideways as though the skies themselves were bleeding. The Fae forests bent in protest, their magic straining against a tide they did not summon. I stood on the porch of Ellowen's cottage, drenched and breathless, the salt of the rising waves sharp in the air despite being miles from the coast. My heart still thundered from the power I had sensed an ancient wrongness, too dark and too deep to name.
Ellowen stepped beside me, her eyes narrowed on the horizon. "Do you have any idea who it is?"
"No," I whispered, arms folded tightly. "The evil behind is rising and watching. "
