![]() In the small, square cabin no bigger than any others scattered around the base of the hill.Įverything about this place had turned out to be different from Betrice’s home in Grace City where the buildings were made of stone and her uncle’s windmills made water run and lights glow for all who resided in town. Yet, the Seer charged with supervising the training of every potential oracle who stepped through the boundaries of the village lived exactly here. It was not the kind of place anyone of importance lived in-or so she was taught. She hadn’t been referred to as Lady Betrice since her first steps into the Village of Night.Īlmost two years ago she was escorted through the winding paths that snaked throughout the village and the enormous hillside to this very building, which had looked to her like little more than a wooden shack. ![]() Come in, please.īetrice hesitated outside the door to the head seer’s dwelling. ![]()
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