PROLOGUE
The lane was gloomy and dark. Distant thunder rumbled ominously, threatening the skies. Rain drops glistened on the ends of pine needles that decorated the trees lining the road. All was silent and nothing moved, save a wandering breeze whistling in the treetops. The light raindrops were muffled by the dirt, only creating a soft pitter-pattering when they hit the cement.
The road wound it's way through the trees until it turned to gravel and then plain dust. The rain made the dirt a muddy mess, and anyone who was familiar with the area would probably assume that it was just the remains of another landslide. However, that person wouldn't have seen the rotten wooden post with a rusted tin box tilting precariously on top. For this mess of mud was the beginnings of a driveway, and behind a towering fir that should have marked a dead end, there lay a small cabin.
The cabin was quite nice, and it was fairly obvious that someone occupied the house. Flowers bloomed in the garden, and at night the soft orange glow of the fire could be seen escaping through spaces in the blinds. Any night excepting a certain peculiar night of peculiar happenings. That night, it was not an orange glow, but a violet one that poured out. The source was a chair by the hearth, where there sat a woman. This was where the light shone brightest.
The woman had a sort of hypnotizing beauty, the kind that caused men to forget their own names and act like fools. Dark hair cascaded down her back, some swept over one shoulder. Her ivory skin carried just a trace of mountain sun, from days spent in the garden. Her slender figure was straight and proud in the chair, and she was singing.
The words could not have been understood by any human, but even just the melody carried power in its swelling and haunting rhythm. Her eyes closed as she thought of the weight of each word sung, for they carried power as well. They were words of mystery, words of enchantment, words that wove the web of magic.
The spell was being done over a small, hand carved cradle. Inside, a small baby slept, oblivious to the light weaving it's way around it. The child just slept without dream, and soon began to change.
It began with a glow beneath the skin, just a subtle shifting light, but it grew steadily, until the child was fully alight with magic. The woman's words grew faster, and the song turned wild and strange. The light brightened and spun out of the child from every angle, growing almost unbearable, until a brilliant flash filled the whole room with nearly blinding light, then succumbed to the darkness of the night just before dawn.
The light of an early dawn began to creep in the window, illuminating the woman and the cradle. The woman was sitting back in the chair, a tired sag weighing down her slender frame. The cradle lay in shadow, not yet touched by the morning light. There was no sound as the light crept further in, crawling up the mantel brick by brick.
Then, the silence was broken. An old truck engine whirred loudly, almost masking the sound of guitar coming out of the old speakers. The woman's head shot up, her fatigue forgotten in fear. She snatched up two duffel bags and slipped out the back door, just as the car door slammed. A man stepped out, and walked up to the door. His key turned in the lock, and the door opened silently. He hung up his coat and walked into the living room, like any other day.
The light finally reached the cradle, and crept over the side, shining down on the child. It's eyes squeezed shut, and a small cry escaped her lips. The man looked around the room, then went to the crib. He lifted the baby out, cradling it gently and humming softly. The child calmed, and it's eyes opened. The man gasped, for where the soft brown iris had been, there was now pure violet.
And deep in the trees, the woman disappeared into the shadow of the pines, taking her secrets with her.
CHAPTER 1-SARA
