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The illusion deepened – the lingering sense of earthly heat began to ebb. Eskel’s sweat did not freeze, but it did glitter oddly in the snow-bright moonlight. The wolf hood felt heavy with imagined ice. He shivered. Ahead of him, the door to the cottage swung open, revealing a woman inside.

Come in, she called, and Eskel found himself obeying without thinking, his legs moving before he had decided to comply. The woman’s face was unfamiliar to him, but she had a realness to her that was unnerving. It was possible, he knew, that he had stumbled into her dream, and she did not know it yet. But the ritual was supposed to give him glimpses of The God…why would he have been sent here, instead?

“I’m Eskel,” He answered her, as he ducked beneath the doorframe. His eyes – one blue, one green – studied her face with interest. “I’m sorry to intrude…what is your name?”




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