“Is this judgment?”
Ash whispered, pausing in raising her hand to knock. She grinned, knowing how
Granny Phlox would react if she posed that question to her. Granny had a wry,
commonsense view of A’theosius and what the creator expected of people. She
shook her head and thumped three times on the frame of the door.
Silence.
Ash held her breath.
Granny should have called out. Had she grown deaf since the last visit? Or was
she ill?
The latch rattled.
The door slid open. Lantern light spilled out, over the shoulder of Hazel.
“Ashlyn. Good.” She chuckled
when Ash gaped at her. “Did you think you could keep your secret from me?”
“My name—” Ash shook
her head. She was going to say her name wasn’t Ashlyn, but a sensation like a
warm breeze swirled around her, and she heard echoes of a woman calling to her,
laughing, calling her Ashlyn. Tears warmed and blurred her eyes at the sudden
certainty she heard her mother’s voice. “I haven’t used my name for … years.”
“Yes, well, change is
being forced upon us.” Hazel stepped back, pulling the door wide open. “We
don’t have as much time as I would like. You are blessed with powerful friends.
Whether they are powerful enough … well, only A’theosius knows.”
“Is that my pup?” Granny Phlox’s creaky voice emerged from the shadows, twined with a warm chuckle that always hinted she was ready for mischief, and could outdo her twelve charges in any sort of trouble they might try to make.
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