19

In the Far Lands, a hooded figure hurried through the driving rain towards the Court of the Soaring Spirit. The guard threw open the gates to reveal the oppressive jumble of buildings and the heavy gloom that clung to every street.

‘Who goes?’ the guard challenged.

The figure threw back its hood to reveal beautiful golden features.

‘My queen.’ The guard bowed deeply and stepped aside so Niamh could enter her court.

She hurried past without speaking and headed towards her palace, ready for the struggle that lay ahead. And none who saw her knew of the spider that now nestled deep inside her head.

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