PREVIEW

... er’s road

Where falling snows

All warmth erode

We sing of light, through winter long

'Till the floods ring spring's gong

The last verse of the amusing little folk song drifted out through the open slats in the workshop wagon, stirring the lightly falling snow outside into swirling flurries. It was a simple piece, the sort of song even a child could sing. But Hanyi's voice, the piping of her flute, and the rattle of the wind tugging at the shutters made som ...

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