It started when Eggs was five, and she told her fathers that, “The field’s going to get blown away tomorrow.”

The next morning, before the sun had properly risen, a cloud devil ripped through the countryside, mowing down Betty’s fields and leaving the air smelling like ozone and lavender.

”I can feel it in my bones,” was all Eggs could say.

Later on, she learned the right words and the warning signs that came with her predictions and minor explosions. Her anger might spiral out from her hand and crack a small tree trunk, or her tears might beckon clouds to cluster overhead, the plat plat plat of fat raindrops on the ground the only noise between her sobs.

*****

A fantasy novel about loss and grief, hidden knowledge and deadly secrets, The Sapphire Vault plays homage to hero quests, tabletop roleplaying games, and just how closely tied we are to our pasts, no matter how fast we run to escape it.