Before she died, Ethel gave Julie a stapled packet of parchment paper, plump and noisy with seeds.

Last fall’s decaying leaves shifted beneath my feet as I crossed the yard.

Tamasin, called Abhasvar, watched from the concealing folds of her hood as the Riever and his men strode into the great hall. For a long, fearful moment she thought the Riever wouldn’t stop, would …