Her first on her very own. First of many, she realised with a grimace.
But before she had quite decided, there was a rumbling in the distance. She saw the creature first, heart already racing, although it did not directly resemble the one that had pinned her so easily to the ground, teeth long and snarling as it growled in her face with puffs of hot air.
This one seemed demure as it carried on steadily forward, a cart tied to the back of it, a man seated up higher.
She stood her ground, waiting as he drew nearer. His clothing was mixtures of reds, an emblem of a flame pinned neatly to his collar, yet still he looked at her in some surprise.
She took a trembling breath although she hoped he did not notice her nerves.
Before she could give the customary greeting, the language drilled into her from long before— although even now her tongue felt slow to respond to it—the man cut in, a grin on his face.
"Bit late, aren't you?"
Penryn grimaced. "I suppose," she answered back. He was not what she expected, the lines on his face suggesting this had been his task for many years. Patrolling. Cutting down saplings that dared grow out of line.
Picking up heartbroken Lightkeeps.
"Well, get in then," he instructed. "People are waiting on you."
She timidly walked around the beast, and the man chuckled at her jump when it craned its head to nip at her as she passed.
"Pay him no mind," the man apologised, patting the wooden seat beside him. "Let's see you where you need to go, shall we?"
She nodded, climbing up and sitting beside him, though putting as much distance between them as she could.
"You hurt bad?" he asked, his manner pleasant enough.
"No," she answered, knowing her response would not have wavered even if her injuries had been more severe. "I was very well taken care of."
The man gave a grunt and urged the creature forward, turning the cart about, back from whence he had come.
It was not the formal exchange she had expected, but so little of this entire business had been quite as she had imagined.
Perhaps things had changed beyond the Wall.
Even if they had remained staunchly the same for Grimult's people.
The sages had seen to that.
“You got a name?” the man posed, and her eyes flickered to him in surprise.
She steeled herself, pulling on a mantle she had long since thrown aside. “No,” she answered firmly. “I am the Lightkeep.”
More to come, Spring 2020. Until then, please enjoy these other titles by Catherine Miller
The Deridia Series
Mercy
Trade
Thrall
The Wholeness Project
Designation 932
Designation 261
Additional Works
Remnant
A Nymph Without Mercy
The Making of a Lady
Destruction of Obsession
A Rose in Winter
A Civic Duty
The Phantom’s Witness
