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a's
naked through a gap in the logs, making the tiny light shudder as if it, too, was taking its last breath. It illumina
d gently wiped his forehead. There were no tears in my silver eyes. My focus was absolute. Th
ips, and my nose wrinkled. The scent of soul-decay. My ancient spirit recogniz
and gripped mine. It was cold. "The time has come, Lit
etched with swirling runes. A single groove, a blood
drawing a single, dark drop of blood. He guided it into the stone's channel
ath catching. "Go to the territory of the Blac
mmitting the n
. "He... he may not be living well. But his hear
"Tell him... I am sorry. And... m
y small fingers closin
e, his gaze filled with a love and sorrow that
e older than the mountains around us, I began to hum the Sending Song.
the lines of pain on Silas's face sof
illing through the cabin's small window and bathing him in
, and the life-scent of
hed him in the quiet. Then, I leaned forward and pr
ot and dragged my plain-looking backpack from
er pocket. Then I went to the larder, packing the last few s
its weight would seem impossible for my small frame, but
had been my only home. Then I went outsid
ilas's body within the earth. I covered it with a heavy stone sl
I bowed deeply to
the night wind. Without a backward glance, I turned and start
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