Repairing Fate

Night had fallen long ago, yet Lathel was still lying awake, staring at the ceiling.

The two magic lamps mounted on the wall had already been dimmed to their lowest setting, leaving only a faint golden glow across the room. Every now and then, wind slipped through the window and stirred the curtains. Whenever Lathel shifted beneath the blanket, the silver chain locked around his wrist tapped lightly against the bedframe.

He had changed positions more times than he could remember.

And the chain was not the only reason he could not sleep.

Every time Lathel closed his eyes, everything that had happened over the past few days returned one scene at a time.

Bram lying motionless beside the shattered carriage.

Aldric standing in the road with his wand in hand.

Then the sensation of Pandora seizing control of his body and using a kind of power so far beyond anything Lathel understood that he had barely known what was happening.