Tales Of Corwin

She lit a lantern and led the way up to the Circle room, and only the lantern in her hand kept her from dancing all the way. When everyone had settled in their places, sitting on cushions on the floor, she rose, picked up a snuffer from the central table, and began. “It is the season of winter,” she said, “the season of darkness, the season of cold.” Starting at her right, she extinguished the first candle in the circle. “Air: dry and bitter. Earth: hard as iron. Water: like stone.” She continued around the circle, slowly extinguishing the candles as she spoke. “Sun: low and distant. This is the longest night of the year, and these are the darkest days. The sun has grown weaker and weaker—only a fool would believe that it might grow strong again. The trees are bare—only a fool would believe that there is life down under ground. The robins and red-wing blackbirds are gone—only a fool would believe that they will ever return. Night has fallen.” Here, she extinguished the final candle of the circle, the one nex