The website of Allene R. Lowrey
“As for you, my Lady Singer, I have questions.” Runa smiled up at him impishly, hugging his arm. “Walk with me, my Lord, and I may have answers to give.” Einarr and his betrothed wandered the empty streets arm-in-arm, neither of them minding in this moment that desertion that had bothered him not long before.…
Päron? Einarr knit his brows in confusion. Why was she calling it a pear? Päron… Päron… Runa’s story had seemed oddly specific. Päron… “Päronskaft? As in, the imp who spun gold?” Against all reason, the creature froze and the howl of an angry wind rose above the wailing. Runa’s voice rose above the wind as…