Blackfeather Woods searching every room, I am not free

She let out a deep breath, a gusty sigh, and smiled broadly. O, Sheogorath riddan sagon, she said joyously, turning her gaze up to the sky. No, wait, he was down below—or beyond—or whatever the hell the Void was. She snorted. Good riddance.

Her brows knitted together. So. . .niece, Maegi said, sizing the woman up. Nothing seemed right, though. All the dimensions were off, and she was too distracted by those cerulean eyes to take much stock in physics. Why have you been sent here, now? Is brother plotting his great, glorious comeback?

A flock of crows came fluttering down all a sudden, startled by something in the trees. A landed hawk, or perhaps a vulture. She might have ducked at the sudden maelstrom but was awestruck at the beauty of all that rippling darkness, those many pairs of beady eyes.

They welcome you, she remarked, voice a bit wry. One shat on her head, and she felt the sudden warmth and wetness on her temple. It slid down her cheek, dribbling down her chin. It smelled putrid.

Ah, to be home again. . .