The nightmares had ceased. The nights of tossing and turning had stopped; and so had the days of headache and numerous small migraines biting into her concentration. They had been the legacy of the Wyrd, pinching and snagging at the shattered remnants of her Pledge.

Land had gone. The rest of the motley had struggled on. Mhairi had stepped down as Director; Ingrid had taken her place; Seraphina had continued to live and love. They had even shared a night on the town.

And the Wyrd had punished them for it. That had been Winter. Now that the punishment had ended, Ingrid knew she had to prepare for what came next.

The Darkling did not have to wait long. First she felt the swell of her mantle as it grew, responding to the change of Season. The surge of power was almost as distracting as the Wyrd's punishment from the previous Season but in a more more delicious and subversive way. Then her scent had seemed to get stronger. Ingrid doubted that her Mantle had strengthened greatly but the scent her aura gave off seemed stronger in her nostrils; it tingled and teased her nostrils, tempted her taste buds and filled her with a desire for fruit.

And then the Wyrd stamped her with the mark of the Emerald Court. The Antler Crown manifested. Shadows spooled, drawn out from darkness over the course of a single night, solidified as a solid and glassy mass: twin antlers sprouting from her head. Antlers of glass, not natural bone.

Oddly, the didn't weigh much at all, nor did they impede her. She had expected them to be a burden.