The website of Allene R. Lowrey
“There never was any old man.” Arkja’s pronouncement fell on the deck of the Gestrisni like a brick of lead. A million questions flooded Einarr’s brain at once, such that he could not ask any of them – merely sat, staring, at the pronouncer. Irding recovered first. “So this is twice this season we’ve run…
Einarr stumbled through the door, blinking at the flash of light that had momentarily blinded him. Frowning, he looked about the room to see that it was filled with… not really statues, they weren’t solid enough for that, but more images of people he knew, all frozen in place in poses that spoke of daily…