Where her childhood mask had been clumsily painted with a rainbow of colors, this one was hammered prismatium, shimmering like the tail of a dreamweaver bird. The mask-maker had sculpted the metal into gentle waves, ebbing and flowing like the River Dežera. It wasn’t anything Renata Viraudax needed… but Ren wanted it so badly it took all her will not to let the yearning show.
