e Goodw

abin was br

modern minimalist architecture. Floor-to-ceiling reinforced glass panels offered an unobstruc

, Cyril was nowh

nical lack of personal clutter. The refrigerator held only bottled spring water and a few sealed bottles of

n days, I threw m

the 1700s. My client, Gloria Beaumont, was one of the most influential patrons in the state. When I hand-delivered the restored manus

had praised me. "I'll make sure every ga

lized, my studio was thriving, and the quiet

onal object in the living room: a small, dark silver frame on the ma

te dress, standing beneath a massive, snow-covered frost-fir tree. Her dark hair was caug

my thumb. A pang of unex

one, I thought. A girl f

s and presence didn't stay single

om the woods outside, followed by a hea

seemed still, but the hairs on my arms stood on end. I felt a bizarre energetic ripple-a sudde

r a fraction of a second, I thought I saw a blur-a shadow mov

was gone. Only the wind

to myself, rubbing my temples.

s, and went to bed, entirely unaware that eighty yards

Sweene

d collapsed onto the forest floor,

en handkerchief. The stray had tracked the scent of Joseline's witch-blood all

e three shadow-guards kneeling behind me. "If another rogue

ards vanished into

ins, I could see the soft amber light of her lamp. My chest ached with

ten years ago, not knowing that the little girl who had given me he

reezing gale. "When the shadows are cl