By Patricia A. McKillip
Arriving from conflict, Prince Ronan of Serre unintentionally tramples a white rooster within the road— and earns a witch’s curse. Her phrases are meaningless to a guy mourning his lifeless spouse and baby, yet they arrive to cross the entire related; Ronan has now not been domestic an afternoon ahead of his father insists on an prepared marriage. As he gazes into the wooded area, determined for the way out, Ronan glimpses a superb firebird perched on a close-by department. He follows the place it leads him—into a sideways international the place his father’s palace now not exists. yet his meant, the gorgeous Princess Sidonie, is on her strategy to the palace. And her destiny will depend on Ronan eager to locate his means domestic. . . .
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Extra resources for In the Forests of Serre
Later he believed he must have lost consciousness again, for when he woke there was light. Little enough, true, but a faint, bloody crimson glow was tingeing the air around him; and for the first time he was able to make out his surroundings. There were mountains-vast, towering crags of granite that humped into a frightening distance overhead and seemed to topple towards him, making him reel with vertigo. Though from this vantage point he couldn't see the sun, the sky above the peaks had paled to an unhealthy hue like old, worn brass, and the crags were stained with its gory reflection.
Slow bands of faint color were marching across the empty bowl of the heavens, and, fascinated, the boy had counted green, scarlet, orange, grey and an eerie blue-black before common sense returned and he realized what he was witnessing. " There was naked fear in the Margrave's voice. The boy felt a faint tingling from the earth, transmitted through the cold stone of the jetty. He sensed an electric tension in the air, and his nerves began to crawl with something that terrified him far more than his impending fate; something that evoked the worst nightmares any human being could experience.
Said the woman warningly. Taunan brushed her protest aside. " A hand touched the boy's forehead. "He's strong, lady-stronger, I suspect, than you or I or anyone we know. " Something in the boy's consciousness rebelled at their talk; they spoke as though he were some inanimate piece of meat to be discussed and dissected at their leisure. What had he done? He couldn't remember now... He clenched his teeth, made a tremendous effort to combat the pain, and forced his eyelids to open. At first the scene before him wouldn't focus, but remained a blur of shapeless shapes, colorless colors.