The Nightmare coiled in the corner of my mind. I don’t know what will happen, Elspeth, he said. Your degeneration is almost at an end. I could see the spindle tree in the courtyard from my bedroom window. Its crimson branches swayed, ever gallant, in the autumn breeze. I whispered a goodbye no one would hear and closed my eyes, shutting out the spindle tree and my childhood room until there was nothing but shadow. Shadow, and the Shepherd King.
