The Silver Stag (The Gailean Quartet #4)

She had never seen a forest as green as the Wood. It seemed ironic. The apparent life and vitality flowing from the lush green woods mocked all those entered in the past, never to return again. Chrysillee would not be one of those though. She was on a quest, a mission she would sooner die than leave unfulfilled, a journey she was willing to die for to fulfill, if need be.

The sunlight filtering through the trees emitted a glittering, golden-green light. The Wood smelled thick with sweet, succulent magic that lured her forward yet made her sleepy. She stumbled on. The peddler had warned of the legendary dangers of the Wood. She must not allow herself to give in...

Suddenly, she stopped, listening. She heard it. The music. The sprightly call of the fiddle. She carefully made her way towards it, lured by its enchanting, lively strain. The melody awakened her sleepy spirit and body, spurred her slow steps into a quick walk, then a run, and then-

She stopped in a clearing where a girl danced on feet light as feathers, fingers weaving and skipping across the fiddle as delicately yet boldly as a spider spins her web. Both feet and hands moved with a swift deftness. Her white-gold hair twirled about her like beams of sunlight as did the full folds of her white-gold dress.

Everything shimmered and glowed as she wove in and out of the green-gold beams of light streaming through the trees like the grand pillars of a princess' inner sanctum. Her eyes were closed, but suddenly she opened them as if sensing Chrysillee's presence. A striking, sapphire blue.

The girl smiled, still dancing, still playing, her feet not missing a beat, her hands not faltering on a single note, her eyes sparkling in a playful yet powerful sort of way. As Chrysillee continued to watch, she knew her quest would indeed not be in vain, for she had found the Siren of the Wood, the Sunlit Wind Whisperer.

Or maybe she had found Chrysillee