The initial pulse hit like the toll of a bell—deep and resonant, ringing through bones that had not felt magic in decades.

Quinn came awake sitting bolt upright at the depths of sleep.

She breathed with shallow gasps as the wind outside shrieked, beating against the wooden shutters of her mountain house. Darkness writhed across the floor. Firelight jumped wildly, turning sideways as if it genuflected to some invisible force.

She stood on the hard stone floor, barefoot and silver braid ...