We might be going to Dragoncon.
Here is a tiny snippet, because we have no other news and this post needs some more words.
The bright sunlight stabbed at my eyes. Sunshine bathed the street and thirteen people waiting there, about thirty yards from our door. Long white robes with deep hoods hid their faces and swept the ground, shifting in the breeze. They stood in two columns, six people on each side, their arms crossed, their hands tucked into the sleeves, with the lone figure in a blue robe waiting between them.
Magic brushed against me. It felt old and deep.
The figures didn’t move.
“Is this a present from your father?” Curran asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” It felt like him, though. Ancient, dark, but oddly beautiful. Maybe this was his version of that phone call Erra was talking about.
That’s all. Will say more when things are confirmed.