Glimpses of events rush past me, current, past, and future. There’s a large hall, occupied by kings and queens. A celebration in a fae castle with a young child and her parents of two worlds. A festival in snowcapped mountains, overseen by a woman in a blacksmith’s apron. A quiet cottage, on what side of the Fade, I cannot tell…but it feels like home. A pot simmers on the stove over Folost. Mary is in the windowsill. And in the window beyond…
