PROLOGUE

               A light breeze swept across the valley, rustling the leaves and pine needles as the dusk sky darkened, slivers of pink and orange tinting the remaining clouds. The rancher maneuvered his horse back and forth, gathering the ewes, many with lambs, into a flock, taking mental note of how many lambs he needed to tag and tail dock. A long, low howl erupted in the twilight. He pat his horse on the neck as its ears flattened.

               “Steady now, girl. It’s . . .

PROLOGUE

               A light breeze swept across the valley, rustling the leaves and pine needles as the dusk sky darkened, slivers of pink and orange tinting the remaining clouds. The rancher maneuvered his horse back and forth, gathering the ewes, many with lambs, into a flock, taking mental note of how many lambs he needed to tag and tail dock. A long, low howl erupted in the twilight. He pat his horse on the neck as its ears flattened.

               “Steady now, girl. It’s . . .

PROLOGUE

               A light breeze swept across the valley, rustling the leaves and pine needles as the dusk sky darkened, slivers of pink and orange tinting the remaining clouds. The rancher maneuvered his horse back and forth, gathering the ewes, many with lambs, into a flock, taking mental note of how many lambs he needed to tag and tail dock. A long, low howl erupted in the twilight. He pat his horse on the neck as its ears flattened.

               “Steady now, girl. It’s . . .

Earth does not understand the curse of time. It knows not the ravages of age, as it simply alters its form to endure. Rocks weather to dust, and that dust layers to weave stories of the past. Earth cradles the remnants of millennia. The living walk upon it and the dead are buried within it. The world belongs to earth, and it returns to it, sheltered in sediments that defy time.

All things are bound by time, but not earth. Not usually.

Today the earth bent to Time’s will as limber a. . .

Earth does not understand the curse of time. It knows not the ravages of age, as it simply alters its form to endure. Rocks weather to dust, and that dust layers to weave stories of the past. Earth cradles the remnants of millennia. The living walk upon it and the dead are buried within it. The world belongs to earth, and it returns to it, sheltered in sediments that defy time.

All things are bound by time, but not earth. Not usually.

Today the earth bent to Time’s will as limber a. . .