• PROLOGUE
    A VISITOR


    The small figure darted from behind the boulder, fleet and silent as a shadow. The mountain midnight concealed him. He avoided the wide-open spaces along the top of the ridge, preferring the darkness of the eastern slope. A group of red-uniformed soldiers were making their way above him. Obviously they had not seen him; he had the element of surprise on his side. He climbed silently higher. Finally, upon reaching a spot near the line that was still concealed, he halted. He waited quietly, wanting his timing to be just right… he burst from his hiding place, with a wild scream of rage. Great cobalt wings had sprouted from his back.
    “Fire when ready! Keep Order!” bellowed the captain of the soldiers. They quickly drew their guns and took aim. “Hah!” shrieked the winged one. “I’d like to see you lot of earth huggers catch a rook!” He flew around and around in dizzying circles.
    There was a deafening volley of bangs, and the winged one cried out and plummeted toward the ground.
    “Right!” called the captain. “Well done! March on!”
    But before this order could be carried out, several more winged people leapt from the ridge, then turned to descend upon the soldiers. There were shouts, several gunshots, and a few shrieks of pain. Soon all the fliers lay groaning on the earth. The soldiers turned, indifferent, and marched away.
    One of them- a woman, badly shot through in two places, was still standing. She stumbled over to an outcrop and laid something gently there. She knelt in front of it. Tears glimmered on her face. “Rest well…” she whispered, and fell to the ground.

    Nestled in the rocks was a sleeping child.