Sebastian by Anne Bishop Read Free Book Online Page B

step, then another. Always studying the ground, the walls, the shadows.
    When the light found the bones and the rust-colored sand, she stopped. Crouching, she touched a fingertip to the ground, then studied the grains of sand clinging to her skin. There were a few landscapes that had that color sand, but combined with clean bones… only one.
    So this was the source of the dissonance she had felt when she'd walked through her private garden to check on her landscapes. She'd felt a ripple of uneasiness a few days ago and had intended to visit the Den and talk to Sebastian, but there had been stronger ripples of dissonance in two other landscapes.
    She'd crossed over to check on the disturbances in those landscapes but had found nothing unusual, so she'd decided a wizard must have been passing through those places, since their presence always created a dissonance in her landscapes. By the time she'd returned home, the ripple that had disturbed the Den had disappeared.
    Until now.
    She rubbed thumb against finger until she was absolutely certain she was clean of every grain of sand.
    Then she rose and carefully backed away.
    Glorianna, these past few nights I've had dreams full of disturbing images, and a… sense… that something old, something evil is swimming beneath the surface of the world.
     
    I know, Mother. I've had the same dreams.
    She went back to the mouth of the alley, opened the pack she'd left there, and took out a jagged piece of stone. Then she walked back into the alley and carefully studied the ground, looking for the grain of sand farthest away from the bones. Setting the stone on top of the last grain of sand, she called to the world.
    Ephemera, hear me.
    The currents of Dark and Light power that flowed through the Den mingled with the currents of Light and Dark inside her while the world waited to manifest her will.
    Take the sand before me and send it deep into the place of stones. Let the sand have the bones.
    They belong to that landscape now. Let nothing remain here that does not come from my heart.
    She felt the currents of Dark power flow into the alley, along with a thread of Light. She watched the sand and bones disappear, along with the jagged piece of stone that would act as the anchor point connecting the place of stones to the bonelovers' landscape.
    She watched Ephemera manifest her will, responding to her in ways it responded to no other Landscapes.
    Her resonance filled the alley once more. But there was still a tingle of fear where the blood had seeped into the ground, and that fear would linger, smearing the heart of every person who passed the alley.
    She felt a playful tug from the currents of Light. Before she could respond and impose her will, shoots pushed up from the hard-packed ground, rapidly growing into lush, dark green leaves. Within a minute, the blood-soaked ground was covered in living green.
    It was an awkward place for plants to grow, to say the least.
    There's no light here. Even moonlight won't reach the plants. They can't survive here.
    The Light would give them what they needed. And seeing them would make the hearts happy. Wouldn't it make the hearts happy?
    Ephemera was alive, but it didn't have an intelligence of its own. At least, it didn't think in a way that people would consider intelligent. But long ago, Ephemera had harnessed itself to the human heart, and it constantly made and remade itself in response to those hearts. Since it responded to her heart over any other in her landscapes, the plants must have been Ephemera's response to her desire to somehow soften the violence that had filled the alley.
    She sighed, but she also smiled—and wondered what the Den's residents would say when they discovered the greenery.
    Stepping out of the alley, she picked up her pack and looked around. She could spare an hour or two.
    Might as well take a stroll along the main street and listen to the hearts of the Den's residents before she went searching for