Page 6 - TheRedSon_PrintInterior_430pp_5.5x8.5_9-22-2019_v1

PROLOGUE

The retreat of the Great Darkness made a funeral of the
sky, a bittersweet separation of past and present, fading
memories filling the spaces between. I was more aware of
the sky than myself. I never would have guessed it had been
an entire year since my last waking recollection. It would
take me some time to learn that the rest of the world shared
my amnesia—what remained of the world, anyway.
I was already on my feet as the night lifted in earnest,
tumbling upward, clutching tightly the time it had stolen
from the world. A wailing moved in tandem with the
vanishing dark, a collective caterwaul signaling the end of
something familiar, if not altogether dear.
I was pleased when I realized my sisters were already in
my hands, their curving metal smiles balancing the gathering
dawn. Even stained with so much blood, they retained their
cold beauty, rivaling the iciest brook that ever babbled
through the apex of Autumn. Their pommels were calm and
steady, and their laughter at my awakening sparkled through
the air. My smile was automatic. They were my darlings.
I did not wonder if my father still slept upon my back.
I could feel his seething dreams surging through me as
surely as my own blood. The newborn light laid his shadow
upon the forest, his massive axe-head showing monstrous
and lethal, looming over me as ever he had. I was careful
not to rouse him without the promise of killing. His anger
demanded an awful price.

The Red Son | 9