Page 9 of A Conduit of Light
Thepounding of enormous paws over dirt and undergrowth sounded in my ears as the wind rushed past my head.Irecalled the memory that came to me that morning asIhad held the green stone.Ifelt the memory’s pull and a familiarity with my surroundings, though they looked quite different since that long winter.
“Moira!”Ishouted ahead, not taking any time to slow my beast. “Iknow where we could go!”IturnedParvusto the left over a fallen trunk and off the rocky path.IheardRaucafollow close behind and she let out a long howl in playful excitement to be led away from our usual ride.
Iglanced back to seeMoirafollowing, her face free with giddy joy.Herfirst love would always be the open air between the tall trees.IthinkIplayed a close second.
Weflew through the bushes and ferns, the lumens never slowing, even in the difficult terrain.Branchessnagged at my dress and pulled on my hair asIducked and dodged through the thick ofFelgren, butIledParvusdeeper still, unwilling to give up on this trek, this strange memory that loomed before me.
Weventured on for ten minutes at least, the memory growing stronger as we neared the clearing.IpulledParvusto a halt as we entered the glade.Hepanted heavily andRaucaslid up beside him seconds later.
“Howdid you find this place?”Moiraasked as she flitted up near my shoulder, her breath steady and hardly panting in spite of the long race through the trees.Faeriesmay be small, but they are unfazed by the vastness ofFelgren.
“I…I’mnot sure.Itwas like a pull.Assoon asIwas on his back,Ijust…wanted to get here.”
Sheflew ahead, gazing in awe at the splendor of yellow blooms amidst the grassy plain, bees buzzing lazily in the sunshine.Astark white quiphit popped its head up among the grass and sniffed the fresh air, its large black eyes and tall ears turning quickly toward the lumens.
Ihad just enough time to slide off his back beforeParvusandRaucadashed after the rodent, eager to hunt it down.
“Itmust have been born this winter—its coat is pure white,”Iassumed, walking into the tall grass, my fingers trailing along the tips of the flowers in greeting.
Wewatched as the quiphit burst ahead of the lumens and dove into its hole in the ground—the lumens digging at the entrance furiously.
“Come,Karus,”Moiragiggled conspiratorially. “Letus sing in the sunshine and twirl until we fall—or the rain does.”
Shetook my fingers in her hand and led me to the middle of the field, her crystal voice resounding through the open air, beautiful, and enough for me to join in on the duet, each of us taking a part;
“Ifmy heart could,”
“Iwould see you more,”
“Thantwice a day.”
“Thantwice a night.”
“ButIhave not the strength.”
“NordoI, my love.”
“SoIwill see you at dawn.”
“SoIwill see you at dusk.”
“Saidthe sun to the moon.”
“Saidthe moon to the sun.”
Welaughed in delight of our song and collapsed into the wildflowers, gazing up at the graying sky, the first drops of rain speckling our faces.
* * *
MoiraandIate cold ham and hard cheese for lunch underneath the long cover of trees, watching the stormy clouds pass, opening the sky back into a haze of blue.
Wespent our morning telling stories, mostly fromMoira, and laughing at the soaked lumens as they chased more quiphits across the field.
Whenwe arrived back at the lumen den late in the afternoon,ParvusandRaucadrank deeply from the stream near their home, andIstayed with them whileMoirawandered ahead toward theFortress.Igently combed their damp coats full of thistle and twigs leftover from our ride on the off-beaten path.Isang to them the song we echoed through the clearing.Thelyrics had come to me sudden and all at once whenMoirabegan the lines of the sun.
Parvuslicked my cheek, leaving a wet slop of water across my face.Ilaughed delightedly, wiping the mess away with my sleeve.Isaid my goodbyes and headed back down the path toward theFortress.
IheardMoiraspeaking quietly to someone after a bend just ahead of me, andIstopped to stay out of sight as her next words came as an ineffective whisper, “She’snot ready.”
