TITLE: Bloodlines - The
GENRE: YA Historical Fantasy
30th September, 1509
Serena wanted to run…
The hourglass, standing on the altar stone in the centre of the clearing, threw back a glimmer of moonlight.
“Take the glass,” the witch instructed. “Turn it once and see that you have controlled time.”
It felt like ice in Serena’s trembling hand as she turned it. Beneath the surface the rushing sands of time slowed to a trickle and were still.
Serena fumbled in her cloak pocket, reassuring herself that the second hourglass was tucked inside. Though it was her last remaining hope, there was no guarantee she could deliver it into the right hands and every chance that to try would be to walk into a trap.
Perhaps I have already, Serena swallowed dryly, fighting a wave of nausea. Such a betrayal, even if she survived it, would cost thousands of lives and rob her of her children… again.
“Alasdair,” the witch continued, “you too must control the passing of moments.”
Serena glanced at her husband, whose eyes, like hers, were wet. Alasdair turned the hourglass and passed it back to the witch. Then his hand found Serena’s and their fingers intertwined as they embraced this final, physical memory together. In marrying him, Serena had bound him to this fate. She wore her guilt like an open wound.
The witch smashed the glass upon the sacrificial rock and gathered a handful of ghostly white sand.
“Your palm,” she said softly. Serena raised it. Without warning, agony shot through her body.