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Upended. That was the word: Cerise felt upended. Also uprooted, in an uproar, put upon, barely upright, and caught utterly in upheaval. Her emotions splashed through the treasured words in her head the same way she had splashed through puddles as a child, with the same gleefully muddy results.
“Dragonheart.”
Tell him that I have gone to make a lie come true.
Smell of cold smoke… power beyond power, lapping around me, surging under me like the sea… great green eyes knowing me…
He grinned at her—suddenly purely, heart-stoppingly like the boy she had heard in her parents’ castle, several worlds and lives ago.
