Chapter 6, “Ghosts of a Different Kind, Part 2”
A flutter of movement caught her eye as Cianna stepped onto
to the lighthouse platform.
She stood still, holding her dagger at the ready.
“Come on out,” she called. “I know you’re
there.”
Silence.
“You can’t go anywhere. Unless you want to jump. And
it’s a long way down. Come on out where I can see you.”
Another moment passed, then a figure came bounding around
the bend.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot!” The voice was female.
She was dressed in clothes that seemed out of place, blue pants faded almost to
white, a shirt hanging long and loose. Her hair was cropped short. And she held
a bow.
Cianna laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I
don’t mean to make fun of you. But if you try to shoot that arrow your bow will
fall apart in your hands. It’s seen better days, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t try to trick me,” the young woman said.
“I know how to use this.” Her words were fierce, but she looked
doubtfully at the bow in her hands.
“Up to you. But you might hurt yourself if you insist
on using that thing.”
The fair-haired woman looked back and forth between Cianna
and the bow. Finally, she threw it down in disgust.
“Fine. Go ahead and kill me. I’m tired of running and
I’m tired of hiding. Go ahead. Kill me.”
She stared defiantly at Cianna, though her hands were
shaking.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Cianna said.
“I’d like to help you, if I can.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
The voice was still guarded, but a bit of the tension had
gone out of her shoulders.
“I want to help you because you’re an Outlander,”
Cianna said softly.
“An Outlander?”
“People who come to this world from another
place.”
“You know that?” she said with a bit of fear in
her voice, as she looked around her. “How could you know that?”
“By your clothes, for one. By your hair, for
another.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with my hair?” The young woman
raked a hand through her matted, short crop of hair. “I mean, I know it’s
dirty, but….”
“The color, mostly,” Cianna laughed. “I don’t
think I’ve ever seen anyone with quite that shade of blonde before.”
The young woman grinned. “Well, yeah, I bleached it
myself, so it’s kind of…funky…I guess.”
Cianna looked her over more intently. “How long since
you left your home?”
The young woman’s smile faltered. “I’m not sure.
Several days, maybe a week.”
“How did you survive once you got here? Did you get
help?”
“Not much. I, uh, found some food and funny looking
coins. But the coins didn’t last long. Some jerk stole them later. I’ve been
sleeping in barns,
