The Golden Quest
The iron gate of the Chantry was being pulled shut behind us, the sound of it a low, grinding groan that vibrated through the soles of my boots and up into my teeth. I stood there, breathless, the dust of the courtyard still swirling in the shafts of pale, late-afternoon light. In my hands, wrapped in a layer of oiled silk, I held the Heartwood. It was not a gem, nor a crown, nor a sword. It...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews