by Marion Zimmer Bradley (Author)

Sometimes she had walked for days at a time in that dream; she would wake to find food that she could not remember gathering. Somehow pervasive the dream voices had taken over; the whispering winds had been full of voices and even hands. She had fallen ill and lain for days sick and delirious and had heard a voice which hardly seemed to be her own saying that if she died the wind voices would care for Robin.

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