Torvi shook her head, and the beads and bones woven in her long brown hair rattled slightly. “We are pulling up stakes and moving on right away,” Torvi explained. “But I wanted to come out and give Cardamon a gift before we shipped out.”
"Bullshit!."
"No. I'm dead serious! I saw it with my own eyes."
"Nah... you were drunk... or took a blow to the head. There is no way that happened."
The young deckhand, Martine, was insistent he had seen the...
The dream is always the same…
It begins, without preamble or prelude or explanation, with Torvi in the middle of a blizzard on a windswept, desolate tundra. The winds are the coldest, the most biting, the young Targ warrior has...