Although Frida found a nice hotel for him, Bartholomew had trouble sleeping. The cast iron bed was cozy, but he tossed and turned half the night, wracking his brain to make sense of it all.
Finally, around six, the bleary-eyed boy rolled out of bed and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. He settled himself into the warm waters of the clawfoot tub and wriggled his toes.
The white grows. As my people forget.
The white grows. As my people forget.What was the cause? All over Barcelona, Artanians wandered the streets unaware of who or what they were. So many neighborhoods were infected. Yet Artanians were born knowing all: Thinker, their land, the Prophecy. The Shadow Swine must have scary powers in order to rip that from people’s minds.
Think Bartholomew. Think. What causes ripples her
