A Glimmering Girl by L. K. Rigel Page A

lust?”
    Igraine looked down and studied the peonies woven in the carpet. “Velyn and I ended years ago.”
    “Good.”
    “Do you think so? It always seemed too neat,” Igraine said. “I spent that summer on fire for him and then woke up the first day of winter feeling nothing more than friendship. Did you… Zoelyn, did you end it between Velyn and me?”
    Zoelyn seemed to think it over before saying, “Velyn isn’t of the wyrd, but he is of Avalos.”
    It wasn’t an answer… but it was.
    “You’ve never been satisfied with the island alone,” the abbess continued. “Not even then when you were with Velyn. If you had truly loved him, love would have prevailed.”
    Resentment quickly gave way to acceptance. In the end, it didn’t matter. There was truth in the abbess’s words. Igraine didn’t love Velyn. Never had. She wasn’t sure she could love anyone that way, romantically.
    But then, who did? Velyn was a friend—and a man; someone to have sex with—but he wasn’t as dear to her as Kaelyn or Wennie. Marriage wasn’t for the wyrding women of Avalos. Most were daughters of the high gods. Had Igraine’s mother and father even loved each other?
    “Will you tell me about my parents?”
    “Sun and moon,” Zoelyn said. “Where did that come from?”
    Apparently not. “I don’t know,” Igraine said. “Sir Ross has returned to Tintagos. On the road this morning, I spoke to one of his entourage. I dread telling him about Wennie. I guess it made me think of my own parents.”
    “You know what I know, my dear. Kaelyn came upon you as a newborn, abandoned at the foot of a yew tree near the fae troop trail. She brought you to us, just as you later brought Lowenwyn. A daughter of the high gods—”
    “—is always welcome at Avalos.”
    “When your power came in so strong, I took it as a sign you belonged here. I hoped you’d settle permanently, become truly one of us. But eternal spring has never been enough for you. Your nature compels you to live in the mists and rain of the mundane world in a dirty cave with a second-rate wyrding woman.”
    “It’s a clean and well-appointed cave,” Igraine said. “And that’s an unkind thing to say about your sister.”
    “But true.” Zoelyn picked the blackberries out of a cake and ate the fruit first. “Kaelyn’s powers rarely equal the task before her. Though I’ve heard her healing potions are in great demand since you’ve been mixing them.”
    “But she taught me the steps,” Igraine said. “And her book is wonderful.”
    One of the abbess’s eyebrows shot up. “Her book?”
    “You know how forgetful Kaelyn is. Every so often she has a moment of clarity, as she calls it, when she remembers a potion or a spell. She’s started to write them down because…” Unexpected tears filled Igraine’s eyes.
    “What is it, dear?”
    “She says she’s making the book for me. She calls it her legacy.” A warm streak of wet spilled down Igraine’s cheek. “I don’t think she’s well. I asked her to come with me today, but she refused.”
    “She should come home for good,” Zoelyn said. “She’s always had a stubborn streak. Like someone else I won’t name.”
    “You were forty when you joined the abbey,” Igraine said. “There’s still plenty of time for me.”
    A sad smile was Zoelyn’s only reply.
    “And I do love Avalos. I’ve learned so much here. The way of wyrding. Transmogrification.”
    “Now that you must curb. I mean it, Igraine, for your own good.”
    “When I’m a falcon and I catch a current just so and ride the wind, the happiness in being alive grows bigger than anything. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll lose the shape I’ve taken and blend into the mystic. Become pure joy.”
    “Pray sun and moon you never lose that fear. Fear is your anchor to the world, the opposite of bliss. I do wish you’d stop entirely. Transmogrification is a teaching tool, not a long-term indulgence.”
    “I know it’s dangerous.”
    “No,