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The woods. . . . She had crossed the boundary.
Amberyl laid her hand gently upon the trunk of the tree
against which she leaned. She could feel the life pulsing in
the bark, the magic pulsing within that life.
She was in the magical Forest of Wayreth. Though the
blizzard might rage unabated not one foot away from her,
here, within the shelter of these trees, it could be summer if
the wizards commanded it. But it wasn't. The wind, though
it had ceased its inhuman howl, still bit the flesh with teeth
of ice. The snow was piled thigh-deep in places. But at least
the storm was not permitted to vent its full fury inside the
forest. Amberyl could see now quite clearly. Solinari's light
against the snow was bright as the sun. No longer was she
stumbling in the dark, led on only by the burning
remembrance of the mage's golden eyes, his touch. ...
Sighing, Amberyl walked on until she found tracks in
the snow. It was the humans. Yes, her instincts had led her
unerringly. Not that she had ever doubted her powers. But
would they hold true in this forest? Ever since she had come
to this land, she had been hearing tales about the strange
and magical wood.
Pausing, Amberyl examined the tracks, and her fear
grew
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