The Lost Queen (The Lost Queen Trilogy, #1)

by Signe Pike

Alone. It wasn’t the truth. At Cadzow I was never alone. I was surrounded by ghosts: the spirits of the dead and the memories of those yet living. Their shadows were soaked into stone and earth and wood. Here was the field where Maelgwn had caught me in his arms, barefoot with soot upon his face. Here was the hut where Cathan had sat, his open hands resting on his knees as he taught us of laws and nature and man. Here was the mortar and pestle gripped by Ariane and, before her, by my mother. There in the Hall were the shields painted by Brodyn and Brant, and the coverlets sewn by Crowan that yet warmed the beds.