The bench. The chill of the October air. The morning sunlight washing, weak but present, across the dying grass. I reached for the gray place, hoping it might offer some comfort, a place to retreat for a little while, and found it gone along with the emotions I'd buried in it.
Whatever my son had done to wake me, he'd taken my ability to hide from reality. How kind of him. It was hard not to feel bitter about that, and yet I thanked him at the same time. Not like me to turn my back on what had to be done. Not the first time, sure. But I'd always come home to the truth. That I had a destiny, a particular set of evolutionary and magical skills, a fate like no other. Light One, Doombringer, Creator's Wild Card.
I like the last one best, my demon sent. Makes me feel powerful.
How is that? Shaylee seemed frustrated and restless, pacing inside me. The normally quiet yet emotional princess was more demon than her sister at the moment.