Celise T. L. Montgomery McCaimbridge

The Warlock rose a little before dawn as usual, wrapped herself in a thick floor-length robe, then she padded to the large fireplace.  With a wave of her hand, the wood in it crackled and roared to life, the flames making intricate patterns on the hearth stones.  The cabin warmed quickly as she fixed a large mug of steaming tea, adding some brandy to it before settling in an overstuffed chair by the fire.

The air was much thinner where she was, but Celise got used to it before too long.  She'd been ensconced away in this home away from home for a number of years, but lately, over the past...