Exile for Dreamers by Kathleen Baldwin EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Kathleen Baldwin
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult European Historical Fiction eBooks
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
TESS
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~Stranje House, British Coast, May 11, 1814~
I run to escape my dreams. Dreams are my curse. Every night they haunt
me, every morning I outrun them, and every evening they catch me again.
One day they will devour my soul.
But not today.
Not this hour. I ran with Phobos and Tromos, the half wolves, half dogs
who guard Stranje House. We raced into the cleansing wind. What is the
pace of forgetfulness? How fast must one go?
“Tess! Wait!” Georgiana’s gasps cut through the peace of the predawn
air and broke my rhythm.
I slowed to a stop and turned. A moment later, Phobos broke stride, too,
and trotted back beside me. He issued a low, almost imperceptible growl,
impatient to return to our race. Georgie leaned forward, breathing hard. Her
red hair hung in wet ringlets, dampened from the sea spray that had bathed
us as we ran along the cliffs. But we were inland now, headed for the woods
between Stranje House and Ravencross Manor, and except for the misty
ghostlike vapors swirling about us, the air was much easier to take in.
Winded, she gulped greedily for more. “I have to stop. My side hurts.”
Tromos trotted behind her and nipped at Georgie’s heels.
“Ouch!” She jerked her boot away. “Stop that.”
“She wants you to keep running.”
“I’m trying.” Tromos tried to nip her again, but Georgie swatted at her.
“Back!”
The dog growled in warning and Georgie withdrew.
“Tromos,” I scolded.
She tilted her head at me, tail wagging, and shook droplets of moisture
out of her black fur, quizzical as to why I’d called her off. After all, she was
only doing what was best for her pack, training the young one to run faster.
“Walk.” I looped my arm through Georgie’s and tugged her forward,
needing to get Georgie moving before Tromos took to nipping again. “Ever
since that night on the beach, when she kept you warm, Tromos considers
you one of her pack. She’s practicing for when she becomes a mother in a
few weeks”
Georgie’s eyes opened wider. “Is that really why she nudges me with her
nose so often? She thinks I’m one of her pack?”
“In a sense. Yes.” It was true, but I had to stifle a smile.
Georgie was such an unlikely creature of the forest, especially clad in
that bright white cotton dress. It was one of the absurdly frothy concoctions
her mother had sent with her to Stranje House. Georgie had ripped the
flounce off so that it was short enough to run in, but the fierce white only
served to make her appear more flamelike. Georgie is a burst of fire, a
blazing beacon in the early morning gray.
Unlike me.
I am part forest. Wearing this brown dress, I blend with the woods. My
eyes are green as leaves, my hair is dark as shadows on bark, and my skin is
as pale as frost. I am Welsh, a daughter of the earth.
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