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 here for links to previous chapters.) I lean against a tree, eating lunch, and mostly listening to Lord Taver expertly spinning an elaborate lie. Only mostly listening because Alan is sitting beside me drinking tea and looking wistfully toward the saddlebags holding the salvaged pages from the three grimoires, pages packed in herbs and…