Anna took a deep breath of the rich, autumn air and smiled. She was not at all certain that she would ever get used to the weather in this country, but if there was one thing she could appreciate, it was the temperate beauty of Sunderland in the autumn. She had finally convinced Alexei to go riding with her so she could try out her new bay. By riding, she meant that they would ride together out of the city until they were isolated enough that Alexei could settle somewhere with a book and Anna could explore the countryside.

The red-headed woman had long since abandoned her brother and his guardian in a shady alcove and was now trotting cross-country. The bay was a fine mare, even better than Eluf had promised, and the ride was smooth. Aranka, her rook familiar, soared somewhere above. As for Anna herself, she had not felt this liberated and invigorated in a very long while. Perhaps she should have recognized that for a warning.

It happened quite suddenly. With a gasp, her eyes went wide and sightless and it was only through the valiant efforts of the mare that Anna fell forward against her neck rather than toppling sideways out of the saddle.

Images. Senseless, hurried images flooded her mind, each clamoring over the other to be noticed, to be heeded above all others. They were all jumbled together, and it was impossible to make any sense out of them. There was fur and fang and blood, howls in the moonlight and laughter on the dance floor. There was passion and pain and darkness and light and so many other things. It was even worse than the last time her growing powers had assaulted her. At least then, they had made some sense.

Now, she could only pull ragged breaths into her lungs and try to remember who and where she was.

Aranka cawed and swooped down to land on the mare's neck just above Anna's head. She fussed and chirped and preened her hedge witch.