Page 119 of A Conduit of Light

Beforeme was a wide, dark hole, a contrast to the bright green of the leaves of clover, but a mirror to the blackening sky above.

“Parvus!”Ibent over the edge, looking down, the air rising from it rotten and putrid.

Hewhimpered again about ten feet below me, lying at the bottom, roots from trees once grown there climbing down the earthen walls of what looked like a massive tunnel.

Rauca’swhite and black body lay there, too.Herleg was bent at an odd angle, and my stomach churned asIrose from the edge, ready to run for help.

Afigure approached their bodies, bending down inside the hollow ground, assessing the massive wolves.

Herfigure was thin and tall.Ablack dress, long and trailing with sleeves that ended at her wrist, clung tight to her body.Herstark white hair flowed long down her back, curled at the ends, and a reflection of her light skin.

Herhead held a crown in a ring of gold that shone in the dark cavern.Apattern of flowersIcould not distinguish adorned the sides.

“Ithink their legs might be broken, poor things.”

Hervoice was soft and low, a voiceI’dheard before and one thatIwas not likely to forget.Avoice that had spoken to me of waking, one thatIhad never heard aloud.

Thewoman stood then, her head slowly rising to the light asIstared down at her over the fissure in the field, my pulse rising even more.

Shewas beautiful.

Hereyes shone bright, the iris iridescent and reflective in the light above her.Hernose was long and thin, almost ending at a point, and her lips were red as blood as her grin grew across her face in a charade of pleasantries.

“Whoare you?”Iwhispered, unsure ifIhad spoken aloud.

“Youknow whoIam,LittleSprout.”Thewoman cocked her head slowly, her gaze piercing, the flicker of varying colors in her eyes like the wings of a faerie flying across a sunlit sky, and she answered, “Iam the one they call theBlightress.”