It had been present for weeks. It was affecting everything: the forest, the river, the spirit glades with their giant wooden statues, the mortuary house on the hill … It was even affecting the people, the Tuthanach, the Neolithic clan which inhabited this part of the forest realm. At first, the old man known to the clan as Wyn-rajathuk thought the changes must have been of his own doing, a last ripple of genesis from those primitive areas of his mind still tied to the primeval wood. But this was not possible, he soon realized. He was at peace, now, his unconscious long since emptied of its ancient dreams. He had been at peace for many years. No; this subtle, eerie change was from another source. He went into the spirit glades, walked among the giant idols and studied each grim face, listened to the voices. He followed a hunting trail through the choking woodland and eventually emerged on to the thorn-littered slope of a low hill. Through the dense scrub of red-berried trees he could just see the wall of chalky earth which had been erected about the hill’s summit; a tight hedge of blackthorn had spread to cover this as well.
What do You think about Lavondyss (Mythago Cycle)?
