Book3:WereMyDreamIs
elyclimbedupthesheercliffwithbothhishandsa. Theluminousfullmoohemiddleoftheskyandshoheearth,makingitalmostasbrightasday.Lookingatthenightsky,Medusa’sheartwasfilledwithanindescribabletension.Thebrighterthemoorongerherfeelingofinexplicablefear.“Couldthisfullmoonbeanomenofbadthingstoe?”shethought.“Ohno,no.Sihebeginningoftime,thefullmoonhadalwaysbeenanauspicioussymbondnotaharbingerofbadluck.Iambeingoverlysuspicious.”Medusa’spiergeyeslookedalroundher.Scoutsarieshadbeenpostedinthesurroundingforestsiandwouldshootresoundingarrowsintotheairincaseofanyemergennumerableopenfireshadbeenlitonthebanksofthekeandthousandsofnativeswerebusywalkingtoandfroattendingtotheirassigasks.“Noactsmusthappenatthiscr