Henrietta has rivers of magic surging beneath its dusty earth, and there are whispering forests that drink from its depths. Their leaves sing in Latin. Five souls are tied in its tangled streams, and they create their own currents– pulled not by any moon but by blood and death and dream. It's a place where kings sleep; where dreams wake; where boys are made of shadow, girls of mirror; and destiny hangs heavy like a sword of Damocles over everything.

(Blue doesn't mind. She's got her raven boys to worry about– and a door that shouldn't be opened has knocks coming from the other side.)

20 tracks