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—Journal of the Unknown Scholar, entry for The Feast of Freia, 1000 NE

PROLOGUE

What the Storm Means

Renald Fanwar sat on his porch, warrandson two years before He stared northward

At the black and silver clouds

He'd never seen their like before They blanketed the entire horizon to the north, high in the sky They weren't gray They were black and silver Dark, ruht With striking silver light breaking between theave off no sound

The air was thick Thick with the scents of dust and dirt Of dried leaves and rain that refused to fall Spring had corow Not a sprout had dared poke through the earth

He rose slowly fro softly behind hie of the porch He chewed on his pipe, though its fire had gone out He couldn't be bothered to relight it Those clouds transfixed him They were so black Like the smoke of a brushfire, only no brushfire sh up in the air And what tobetween the black ones, like places where polished steel shone through metal crusted with soot

He rubbed his chin, glancing down at his yard A srass and shrubs The shrubs were dead now, every one of theh that winter He'd need to pull therass was still just winter thatch Not even any weeds sprouted

A clap of thunder shook hiainst metal It rattled the s of the house, shook the porch boards, seemed to vibrate his very bones

He jumped back That strike had been close—perhaps on his property He itched to go inspect the da fire could destroy a man, burn his were unintentional tinder—dry grass, dry shingles, dry seed

But the clouds were still distant That strike couldn't have been on his property The silver and black thunderheads rolled and boiled, feeding and consu themselves

He closed his eyes, calined the thunder? Was he going off the side, as Gaffin always joked? He opened his eyes

And the clouds were right there, directly above his house

It was as if they had suddenly rolled forward, intending to strike while his gaze was averted They do distantly in either direction, ht pressing the air down around him He drew in a breath that was heavy with sudden humidity, and his brow prickled with sweat