high fantasy – Joan Spilman

Flight, Chapter Seventy Two

I sense a mother’s concern and a secret that must be kept.

His flesh was splitting and blood was dripping down.

The shadows woke, gathering around her like snakes.

He’d drank too much and too quickly. Had he really seen a woman sporting a boar’s head enter the door?

A feral nature lucked beneath her beautiful face, a twisted spirit clothed in magnificent skin.

First, she’d fed the boy.

The crowd was a river of confusion, winding its way to the banquet hall.

“It should have never come to this. All blood and gore and malice.”