Writing noteThis book was inspired by a nightmare. As many of my books are. Intro- A visit from death.  An old man born without eyes sits quietly on a hill above the village he guards. A cool early spring night. The moon kisses his skin, as the restless spirits of the land whisper. He finds his pipe and packs it, soon striking a match to it and puffing. He listens, the gossip among the air. Something takes his hand. His spirit eyes focus upon it. A pale headless child. His blood runs cold, as he is guided to his hut. The child is eager. Whispering, becomes a song. Some tune as old as time it's self. They enter and the child releases him, turning towards the old man sensing his fear, it forms a head. A soft smile. Yet the song lingers. Emry knows what is being asked of him, this spirit has a message. He moves his blind body to the fire side, tapping his pipe out. He gets the flames high and pulls his bag of trinquets and herbs. The child settles, a hand playing in the flames. Shaping them into dark images. Emry throws the bones and beads into the bowl nearby. Seeing he won't need them. He reaches to the flame, the spirits cold hand clasps his. The world fades. There is a shattering sound as dishes shatter, but where Emry has been taken he sees. Glass domes of the south burn, exploding. Ill people of the purity flee. Their skin boiled as they cry to their gods. Soon he is let go. He recovers enough to see the child spirit, headless again skip off. That old song still thruming. Emry doesn't fully understand. He stumbles after and stops in his doorway. A whinny of a horse, the smell of decay. His spirit vision catching the edge of a tattered bone horse. He falls to his knees and passes out exhausted.