Bethany..
Sound slowly started infiltrating Bethany’s dream. What had she been dreaming about again? There were three old women, and she had offered them something, but they had talked about her like she wasn’t there, mentioning the thing in her hand, saying it had been broken before and discussing whether or not they should take it from her. Yes, that was it. It had reminded her of a story her Father had told her long, long ago. Something he’d read in a book about three old crones that spun, measured and cut your life, your thread of Fate.
But as the three old women eyed her, growling had cut in, and she had looked up where the sound had come from, so far above her.
“Bethany!” Her name was called, and the cave around her echoed with it.
“Yes, it has been broken many times before.” On
