Home was Kodu Riik. Home was Saljane and Indigo. Home was in the Blessed Lady’s service, no matter where that might take her.
She urged Indigo into a gallop, feeling the wind tossing her long black braid. Above her Saljane skimmed like an arrow into the dawn, into tomorrow.
Behind her, a figure sunk down beside the wall unfurled itself, pushing to its feet with a groan. The tough old woman watched Reisil as she grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared. She continued to stare at the empty horizon, still as a frozen lake. At last she pulled her shawl tight about her shoulders, though the sun bloomed warm in the dawn sky.
“That’s the way of it then. Good girl. You’ve done well, as I told my Lady you would before you were ever born. But mind you keep a sharp eye out. You came into this world for more than to rescue that little girl. Mind my words. Keep to the path. But step lightly. The way rises steep, slick and treacherous. Watch your footing girl, and keep your wits about you. When the time comes, we’ll meet again, you and I.”
With that, Nurema retreated back inside Kallas, muttering to herself as she went.
About the Author
Diana Pharaoh Francis
grew up on a cattle ranch in northern California. She has a Ph.D. in Victorian literature and currently teaches literature and writing at the University of Montana-Western. She lives in Montana with her husband, son, and an oversize lapdog. For more information, see her official Web site at
www.sff.net/people/di-francis
. This is her first novel.