Page 3 of In Your Light

Boots?

No, not feet. Hooves.

The unmistakable sound of twigs breaking.

Hadeom’s pulse thundered in his ears. He froze, cocked his head, and listened.

There was silence for a beat.

“Uh, hello?” a voice called out.

Male. Human? Cern had said there were no humans here. So... not human?

“Anyone there? Cern sent me.”

Hadeom took the kettle off the stove, and, given the boiling water was the only weapon he had, he took it with him when he walked out onto the veranda.

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but what he found wasn’t it.

A young man, perhaps early twenties, barefoot, wearing natural fibres Hadeom hadn’t seen the likes of in a long time. He had curly dark blond hair, green eyes bright with life, and a smile laden with warmth, mischief, tenderness, and certainty all at once.

A smile not weighed down by the darkness of time and horrors.

“My name’s Fyn,” he said, then looked at the kettle Hadeom was holding. “You making tea?” He held up the rucksack he was holding, and his smile became a grin as he brushed past and went inside. “Looks like I’m right on time.”

Chapter

Two

FYN

Of all the chores Fyn was given, going down the mountain was his favourite.

He told himself he was tasked with it because he was the fastest and a very good tracker, not because Pax disliked him and wanted him out of his sight for a while.

Zaq was with him, as he often was. They would typically run together. Their kind only left camp in pairs at a minimum. It was safer that way. Zaq didn’t always love their patrols, preferring to stay closer to camp. He didn’t trust humans—about as much as he trusted cephamorphs—though Zaq tended to grumble most of the time about most things.

But Fyn didn’t mind. Not at all. He’d been down the mountain four times during this lunar cycle. More than he’d done in the past few years combined.

He loved running through the forest, especially in the early morning. The forest was always quietest before the dawn. But most of all, he loved learning about life outside of their own small world.

And this trip was as exciting as it was mysterious.

A friend of Cern’s. An old friend at that, which told Fyn he was about to meet someone special. A friend who’d needed a place to heal, Cern’s message stated.

Fyn’s curiosity was piqued.

The cabin appeared through the trees at last, hunched low beside the river like an old animal asleep in the mud. He’d been here only once before, but it felt noticeably different now.

The first time, it had felt brighter, warmer. Perhaps because then it was providing a haven for Salem and Aurin and their tiny little godlings. Perhaps because it was early in the day now, and the sun hadn’t warmed the ground yet, Fyn allowed.

Or perhaps it felt cold and dark at the moment because the man who came out to meet him was both of those things as well.

“Remember what Pax said,” Zaq had murmured before Fyn had stepped into the clearing.

“Do not linger,” Pax had warned. “Give him the goods, pass on Cern’s message, and bid him good day. He does not good company make.”

Fyn wasn’t sure about that.