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Back Witchshadow Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. Epigraph
  6. BEGINNINGS
  7. PART I
  8. ONE
  9. TWO
  10. THREE
  11. FOUR
  12. FIVE
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. EIGHT
  16. NINE
  17. TEN
  18. ELEVEN
  19. TWELVE
  20. THIRTEEN
  21. FOURTEEN
  22. FIFTEEN
  23. SIXTEEN
  24. SEVENTEEN
  25. EIGHTEEN
  26. NINETEEN
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. THIRTY
  38. THIRTY-ONE
  39. THIRTY-TWO
  40. THIRTY-THREE
  41. THIRTY-FOUR
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. PART II
  45. THIRTY-SEVEN
  46. THIRTY-EIGHT
  47. THIRTY-NINE
  48. FORTY
  49. FORTY-ONE
  50. FORTY-TWO
  51. FORTY-THREE
  52. FORTY-FOUR
  53. FORTY-FIVE
  54. FORTY-SIX
  55. FORTY-SEVEN
  56. FORTY-EIGHT
  57. FORTY-NINE
  58. FIFTY
  59. FIFTY-ONE
  60. FIFTY-TWO
  61. FIFTY-THREE
  62. FIFTY-FOUR
  63. FIFTY-FIVE
  64. FIFTY-SIX
  65. FIFTY-SEVEN
  66. TRICKSTER
  67. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  68. Also by Susan Dennard
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

Iseult’s nose twitched. She tried for a smile. Safi might be performing, but Iseult appreciated the gesture all the same. “I’ll be as fast as I can. Stay safe.” Then before Iseult could second-guess or check either horizon for the enemy, she darted back to the stone table.

A clumsy rip with her teeth, and the bandages came free. Cold cut across her brutalized skin. She hadn’t seen the full damage until now, and in the dim light of dawn’s edge, she could only make out wrinkled, puffy palms.

They throbbed. She ignored them, homing in on the Threadstones. She couldn’t see the Threads bound to them. That power belonged to the Aether; her soul was chained to the Void.

“You should move,” she told Esme, and the weasel needed no urging. With animal grace, she leaped to the snow and aimed for the door. I will keep watch, she seemed to say. I’ll return if I see anything.

Iseult nodded absently. No time, no time. Snow dotted the rubies now. Soon they would be covered. She draped her ruined palms over the cold stones and closed her eyes exactly as Eridysi had described. Exactly as she had tried so many times to do.

In and out, in and out. Each breath froze her lungs. Each moment brought a storm and Hell-Bards nearer. If only the tower had been farther away. If only she’d found another old place.

No, she snapped at herself. She had to focus. The Dreaming was so near. All she had to do was enter it.

Inhale, exhale. Safi, Safi, Safi. Inhale, exhale. Alma. Inhale, exhale. Gretchya.

Then it happened: the sounds around Iseult changed. Gone were Caden’s wheezing breaths and the creak of wind through winter trees. Gone was the wet cold of snow, replaced instead by the dry cold of the Dreaming. She’d done it. She had crossed the wall between worlds.

And this was not the gray, shifting, living world of the Hell-Bard Loom, but rather the Dreaming that overlaid reality. That allowed her to move around within, to see people and Threads exactly as they truly were.

Iseult’s dream-self smiled. Then laughed—loud and full, a wild frizzing in her chest that had wanted freedom ever since she’d first spotted Safi on the snow. She was finally in the Dreaming. After two weeks of trying and failing, all it had taken was finding the right location. She glanced at Safi and Caden, their Threads undampened by the Loom’s control. They were luminous and alive.