By Guy Adams
There's a field. within that field is a door. past that door is a home. In a few rooms forests develop. In a few, prisoners wait. on the most sensible of the home, a prisoner sits at the back of a locked door anticipating a key to show. The day that occurs, the area will end...
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Note: This more recent united kingdom version from Hodder & Stoughton is an development over the typo-riddled DAW version.
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Additional resources for The World House (The World House, Book 1)
Just now and then. Fat? Why was Aviendha glaring at her? Refusing to step into water more than knee deep was childish. Monaelle covered a slight cough with one hand, but Elayne thought she was hiding a smile. Some of the standing Wise Ones laughed outright. At Aviendha’s silliness? Or her . . gobbling? Monaelle resumed dignity, adjusting her skirts spread out of the floor, but there was still a touch of mirth in her voice. ” Perhaps Elayne would have hedged her answer despite the requirement for truth.
Most men enjoy looking at a woman’s bottom. ” Flushing again, Elayne put her mind on Aviendha. It did nothing to settle her nerves. There were specific things she had been told to think on before the ceremony, and some made her uneasy. Nadere kept her pace to Elayne’s, and Elayne took great care not to let her legs flash through the cloak’s opening—there were servants everywhere—so it took them some little time to reach the room where the Wise Ones were gathered, 26 Prologue: Snow more than a dozen of them in their bulky skirts and white blouses and dark shawls, decked with necklaces and bracelets of gold and silver, gems and ivory, their long hair held back with folded scarves.
The feel of Aviendha’s hug dwindled. Sound dwindled. The last thing she heard was Monaelle’s voice. ” Everything faded. She faded. She ceased to exist. Awareness, of a sort. She did not think of herself as she, she did not think at all, but she was aware. Of sound. A liquid swishing around. Muted gurgles and rumbles. And a rhythmic thudding. That above all. Thu-thud. Thu-thud. She did not know contentment, but she was content. Thu-thud. Time. She did not know time, yet Ages passed. There was a sound within her, a sound that was her.
The World House (The World House, Book 1) by Guy Adams