Chapter Eight
“It’s good to see you too, sweet girl.”
I allowed myself to be enfolded into an ample bosom and wrapped in short arms. But it felt as though my whole body was being embraced. The woman was shorter than me, and my head came to rest at the gray bun atop her head.
The painting on the wall of Arthur and Mara surrounded by their children and grandchildren had included a young girl with the raven hair of her grandmother Mara and the light eyes of her great-grandmother Igraine, the first of her name.
I released Igraine, the second of her name, and looked into a wizened face. Those were rare on a ley line where everyone looked young. But this woman was actually old. The first time I’d met her was a thousand years ago. She’d seen wars and peace and births and deaths. Unlike me, sh
