by Liz Williams
They flickered in the torchlight as though they were alive and it struck me then that Sedra and I had been closer than we knew. Both of us had gone out into the world to die, but each time the world had gathered us up and swept us back into the thick of things again. Maybe now it really was time for me to go, or growing close. But not quite, not today. I climbed the steps of the bell tower and when I reached the platform where Khainet and so many others had held their naming ceremonies, I paused and looked out across my city. Lamplight and starlight, a creamy smear in the sky that told me of the approaching dawn. There was a wind blowing down from the mountains, smelling of rain and change. I did not look any more, but went into my chamber, and closed the door behind me. The room smelled damp, of roots and earth. I shut my eyes and waited for what dreams might come.
BLOODMIND
Liz Williams is the daughter of a stage magician and a gothic novelist, and currently lives in Somerset. She received a PhD in philosophy of science from Cambridge, and her subsequent career has ranged from reading tarot cards on the Palace Pier to teaching in central Asia. Her short stories have been published in Asimov’s, Interzone, The Third Alternative and Visionary Tongue, and she is the co-editor of the recent anthology Fabulous Brighton. Bloodmind is her eighth novel.
Also by Liz Williams
The Ghost Sister
Empire of Bones
The Poison Master
Nine Layers of Sky
Banner of Souls
Darkland
The Snake Agent
For Tanith, for inspiration
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Heartfelt thanks go to:
My agent, Shawna McCarthy
My editors, Peter Lavery and Stef Bierwerth
My parents
My unfailingly patient writing group
– and finally, to Trevor for all his encouragement, good
humour and for being here . . .
EPILOGUE
We buried her on Moon Moor, in the crumbling black soil under a cairn of stones. There was no sign of any life, except the endless circling of the carrion birds overhead. I was sure there would be future battles on which they could feed. None of the feir came swarming out to cast their dreams, or to investigate the Morrighanu ship that rested on the scrub. But when I placed the last stone on Sedra’s cairn, I looked up and I thought I saw someone standing on the ridge. It was close to twilight, and hard to see very well. She was wearing armour, and one hand rested on the swell of pregnancy. Half her face had been torn away, but she was smiling. There was someone standing behind her, but I caught only a glimpse and only for a moment. Then they were gone, and Eld and I stood on an empty moor, with a crescent moon rising in the east and a spring wind blowing.
First published 2007 by Tor
This edition published 2008 by Tor
This electronic edition published 2010 by Tor
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ISBN 978-0-330-53069-9 PDF
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Copyright © Liz Williams 2007
The right of Liz Williams to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, repduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unathorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims of damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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