Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) by Charles E. Yallowitz

them, her green hair writhing around her naked, black and white body. Every few minutes, the strange woman touches one of the chaos elves and unleashes a spell. Sometimes the worker drops dead and other times they are rejuvenated, but there is no pattern to what the eerie figure is doing. Sari inches closer to Timoran when Yola Biggs leaps across the continent and lands in front of them. The Goddess of Chaos cocks her head to the side and reaches out for the gypsy, stopping within an inch of her nose. With a childish giggle, she vanishes in a puff of black smoke that falls to the ground and creates a patch of burping mushrooms.
    “Who was that?” Sari asks, her voice shaking.
    “I do not know, but I sense she is another powerful force that we will have to face before we fight the Baron,” Timoran answers, glancing over his shoulder at their sleeping friends. “I hope Nyx and Delvin wake soon. I worry that they have suffered permanent damage.”
    “Your friends were more worn than the rest of you, so I decided to let them rest. Don’t worry because they will still know what you see here,” a small voice says as a silver-haired girl appears between the pair. She leans on Timoran’s shoulder and reaches out with a bare foot to touch Sari’s blue tresses. “I didn’t notice it the first time we met, but you’re so beautiful. I see naiad blood and gypsy clothes. Such a gorgeous creature.”
    “Thank you,” Sari cautiously replies. “I love your hair.”
    Fizzle yawns and hovers in front of the girl’s face as he guesses, “Silver child is sleeping champion. This your mind. What we should see?”
    “My past, my torment, and my duality,” she whispers as glistening tears stream down her face.
    “What are you?” Timoran asks.
    “The child who was never meant to be. A weapon built by two men to use against each other,” the girl replies, her voice filled with sorrow and pride. She gets comfortable between Timoran and Sari before pulling Fizzle onto her lap. “In truth, I don’t know what I am. Much like the Baron and . . . him, I am something unique. Your sleeping friends realized that before I pulled you into my essence.”
    “You mean your mind,” Sari nervously mentions, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. “This is your mind, right?”
    The girl’s eyes turn pure white and her hair appears metallic as she raises her hands. She wiggles her fingers to part the storm clouds, revealing a churning sea of energy. The landscape shines with an ethereal glow as the dark stones and gnarled trees transform into raw magic. The chaos elves and Yola Biggs are gone, leaving behind pillars of aura that patiently wait to be used again. Only the ground beneath the four adventurers remains solid, but they can feel it twist in a constant attempt to change. With two snaps of her fingers, the girl returns the landscape to its former state and goes back to scratching Fizzle’s neck.
    “My mind and my aura are the same thing,” she declares with a smirk. She picks a dead scale off the drite and flicks it into a pool of putrid water. “I promise that your questions will be answered when we meet in the flesh. Please let me continue showing you what I wish for you to know. My energy is limitless here, but my patience is not. I’m sorry. That sounded very rude and threatening.”
    “We apologize for wasting your time,” Timoran claims, cutting off Sari from arguing. He can see worry in the gypsy’s emerald eyes and comfortingly pats her on the head. “Can you tell us what has become of our other friend? The half-Elven warrior who can transform into the spirits of beasts.”
    “I couldn’t let him suffer, so I broke the rules of the game,” the girl explains, placing Fizzle on Sari’s lap. She curls into a tight ball as if terrified of being struck. “I’m only supposed to meet with you like this and not give aide. Luke Callindor had twisted his aura to a point where he could not repair it on his own. He