Chapter 52
The Light That Moves
Kaelen and Lira approach the pulsing light on the road, discovering it is a figure woven from memory and thread, carrying a message from the loom itself about a new thread that has begun to form in the space where the black thread once hung.
The light pulsed again, closer now. Kaelen could make out its shape—not a lantern, not a fire, but something that moved with a purpose that was not quite human. It was tall, perhaps the height of a person, but its edges blurred and shifted like heat rising from summer stone.
Lira's hand found his. "Is it the loom?"
"I don't know." The scar on his palm was cool, still, unresponsive. Whatever this was, it did not come from the thread he had carried. It came from something else.
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