This story takes place in October, during the novel Shades of Gray [in the Amaranthine Saga], two years after Bren's story. It opens in The Guild's citadel in Iowa.
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Franklin cautiously opened one eye, trying to feign sleep. Since he was a sun walker, Migina should know he'd woken some time ago, but maybe she wasn't thinking about it.
That or she's teasing me.
He watched as she stood in front of the full length mirror, brushing her waist length hair. The ebony strands were a pleasing contrast with her caramel skin a complexion paled by immortality. He would have liked to see her before she was turned; racing over the plains, wearing buckskin and feathers. Of course, she'd told him that it wasn't really like that. Not that he didn't already know. He'd run into what they now termed Native Americans before, when he was a fledgling. Still, he liked to think of her in the Hollywood costumes.
Or better, out of them.