The End Of The Fantasy (Book #6 Of The Sage Saga) - Plot & Excerpts
She couldn’t hear the crunch of her footsteps on the hard snow, or the sickening crunch of steel against brittle, rotting bone. She simply moved her body like it was in a dance, and carried out her task as easily as doing household chores. She loved the thrill that came from using daggers. It forced the wielder to get in close, and to be precise. Mistakes meant wounds, and when facing the Stricken, wounds often meant something far worse than death. She found it thrilling to escape death on a daily basis. She felt alive. A gust of cold air blew through her long flowing hair, and she found herself scowling for a second. Based on the lack of substance, there was no doubt that it had been a breeze, and not one of the dead as she had immediately thought, but even so, if she were ever in a state of panic, a breeze could be mistaken for one of them, and she might make a wrong move. She would cut her hair as soon as she got home, and her daughter’s as well.
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