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I know the Fair Ones, little sister. Theyre closer to animals than you realise. You think you know them from Mothers stories? I lived with them. You think your precious Shan is a prime example? Remember Haledren. So composed, serene before, and afterwards…think on it, Jeren, you saw him afterwards. Spit flecked on his lips and his eyes turned bright with malice. Its highly entertaining. You spoiled it, going down there. We could have made him last much longer. If you want to see madness, Jeren, that’s the finest example I know. Samara didnt warrant that with a reply and picked up her slim length of charcoal. The creature on the page, nails reaching from the paper, hair swirling about the narrow head as if drowning, needed more work on the mouth. She waved her hand and the darkness rippled like the surface of a pool. Stillness spread from the centre out and in it, Shan could see a chamber and clustered around the edge... they looked like figures in repose, effigies of the dead. A mausoleum. The sound of roaring water filled the air. And suddenly Shan knew it, the mausoleum in River Holt, burial ground of the Scions of Jern, where Jerens ancestors were meant to rest in peace. Had they done this to Haledren? Had they taken his honour before they took his life? Take the report with you. Ill call you once the DNA results on the bones are in. If it is Salyer… oman dating Dade reached for a cigar and lit it. The man was the most maddening client hed ever dealt with. Youre telling me Mrs. Turner actually killed her husband? What grave? I asked. It was time for a little defiance. When did you last see him? asks Eve, without making any attempt to produce a notepad. Rowan changes his angle so he can look at her properly. Jeren knew the moment Gilliads son took his first breath. What had been a riot of noise, confusion and magic inside her flared one final time and then simply faded away. The magic followed the direct line of succession, ancestral voices to whisper advice to the ruler of River Holt, or drive them insane. Father to son, or daughter, brother to sister only when there was no child. And now there was. She had never known for sure if the baby would inherit the power, part of her prayed that it would be free, but now she had her answer. The curse would live on, dormant for fifteen or twenty years—so the voices in her mind had assured her—but viable, ready to begin again when the child was old enough. Not even the gods who had cursed her ancestors would be so cruel as to inflict it on a child. Not when tearing her life apart had been so much more fulfilling. She must have sated them just a little with all she had given up. Her heartbreak and loss just a little compensation for her familys ancient sins. Find out more on http://www.rflong.com/, @RFLong and @JessThorneBooks on Twitter, R. F. Long on Facebook, RFLong on Tumblr, RuthFrancesLong on Instagram But thats what you want, right? said Lily. Theyd been discussing their respective days over a smoke, waiting for the bus. Ill make sure theres nothing to stop you. Not even Gilliad. Especially not Gilliad. 10 And they laughed. Thesir brought a frown to Dons face. Spit it out. Then Ill take them somewhere isolated, away from any of the races. Somewhere safe where they cant hurt anyone. Because if I dont... He glanced back at them. They want so much to kill. Not through malevolence, but because it’s all they know. They were Fellna and the magic changedthem. And me. I can’t desert them, my love. oman dating.