Stealing Faces - Michael Prescott
STEALING FACES
Michael Prescott
Light thickens,
And the crow makes wing to th’ rooky wood;
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
Whiles night’s black agents to their preys do rouse.
—Shakespeare, Macbeth
Prologue
She had been a person once.
Hours earlier, when she started her long run through the hills under the moonless sky, she’d had a name and a job and a son to live for.
All of that was gone now, and she was only a scratched and muddy animal crawling through t ...