1
Under the glittering Gloaming, Margot De Courcey walked barefoot from Landricourt into the town of Argantel, singing songs she never remembered hearing before. They were strange, nonsensical songs, but then it was a strange, nonsensical time; not only was the Gloaming early, it was somehow more… well, just more.
A day had passed since its first early arrival, and again it had swept over them before its time. Today, only two chimes of the great clock had sounded before the light was swallowed up, and the blue shroud of twilight had covered everything.
Was it supposed to glitter like that? Margot formed the thought in an abstracted way, her mouth still busy forming the words of her melodic oddities as she walked, a basket of flowers and herbs dangling from her arm.
And the mirrors san
