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432 pages, Paperback
First published April 30, 2025
Was I really like this as a child? My tongue dearly loves a duel, but it doesn’t seem productive to put my younger self in her place, especially when I know how fragile she really is.
”But home can be built,” he whispers, and I’m startled by the quaver in his voice, an undercurrent of that fear he’s carried with him. “It can be found and nurtured in another.” As his dark eyes hold mine, he says, “And I found a home with you.”
And when it is done, the last note fading, I turn toward my audience. Tears stream unchecked down the twelve deities’ faces, as they stream down mine. Even the lightning god, with his hardened exterior, wipes the corner of his eyes, the tip of his nose red. For that is the power of music. To reach into our hearts and touch those pieces of ourselves we are too afraid to acknowledge.
What need had he for maps and directions when the wind identified east or north, south or west? Unfortunately, since losing his power and immortality, he felt strangely detached from his environment. The wind was little more than sensation, a brush of air against his skin. It spoke to him no longer.