Well, except for the symbols—they seemed to make more sense than they should. All those dreams, all those nights of drawing them, not knowing what they meant or where they’d come from. She searched dream dictionaries, gone to psychics, and accessed historical texts all in vain. Her subconscious conjured them and she drew them, plain and simple. And now these symbols were alive with power, floating to her consciousness fully formed, but with only a feeling of what they could do—nothing concrete. Giving her abilities she could barely accept. There was no explanation for what was happening. But what she didn’t understand, she could at least appreciate. The symbols on her body were for protection. She’d been unconsciously tattooing protection runes—or whatever they were—all over herself, and she was slowly developing an awareness of each and every one of them. “I can hear them coming from behind, fast. They must have picked up our trail somehow.”
