Visions
The Shepherd Book II
A Novel by Jeffrey B. Linn
All rights reserved

Chapter IV

A roadway, empty of life, lined with dwellings of identical manufacture. Each plot having one deciduous tree of approximately the same height, with shrubs sculpted uniformly beside each door. I stepped out onto a footpath wrought of rectangular slabs of mortar as hard as granite. The road beside it seemed to have been formed from poured lava, hardened without a seam. It was bordered by rows of rough hewn granite blocks joined one after another with mortar. The windows of each dwelling, for they appeared to be so and not merchant houses, were sealed with panes of flawless schist, through which danced the colored light of oddly flickering lanterns within. The novelty of the scene held a horror that flooded my veins, yet fascination, and the Shepherd's word, compelled me onward. I perceived that somehow her garb had altered since she had gotten beyond the hedgerow, though I could not see clearly. She paused before one of the structures, then headed up the walkway and passed within. I made my way gingerly down the path, wondering what my discovery might evoke, and halted at the point where she had turned. I had been instructed to follow her. There were no sentries on the track, and not a sign of any at the windows all down the way. Should I stride up and rap upon the door? Or covertly enter? Could I be seen? Was I meant to be?

[ hints | next chapter | previous chapter ]