Certainty is less secure at boundaries, reality less rigid. In places ambiguous (neither sea nor shore, day or night, river or land) magic can seep through.
Work in Progress
(Click for links to previous chapters.) Seven dead, three identified. And the murderer is still out there. Every night I dream of new graves. Two weeks have passed, and Sister Mays believes the danger over, but the camp remains, and will for two more weeks. Father has called me back home to help hunt the…