Excerpt: Starfall

She turned to face the crater again, and there was someone standing there.
He was ragged, and she couldn’t quite guess the age of him. He looked lean, quite small, with a back that wasn’t bent by age. His face was smooth and unlined, and his ruddy red hair showed no signs of grey. By all outward appearances, he was as young as she was, or younger.

But there was something vast and terrible and ancient in his eyes. Bright eyes they were, bright as emeralds, bright as holly leaves, and just as green.

Just as hard. Just as sharp.

He was dressed in rough clothes, peasant clothes, ragged pants held by a braided leather cord, a ragged shirt that was too large for him. But his casual, arrogant stance held nothing of the beaten-down subservience of peasants.

His grin was as bright and sharp as his eyes, and promised mischief.

Seren looked at him blankly and then blurted, “Who in Squid are you???” The extra question marks were, she felt, more than warranted.

He just grinned at her. His teeth were sharp. After a moment’s deliberation, he said, with odd inflection, “My name is Reynard.”

Something about the way he said it seemed to give it more significance than just an introduction, but for the life of her, Seren couldn’t imagine what.

Two strangers, standing on top of the world, as it shook and shuddered beneath them, as it burned.

“Great. I’m Seren. Nice to meet you. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same question,” said Reynard casually. “And probably do it with more style. You look like a duck who’s just been whacked over the head with a mallet.”

“I’ll mallet you!” she growled, taking a step forward.

He took a step back, wearing a smirk that did not seem at all appropriate to the situation, seeing he was just a few steps from the edge of the crater, being menaced by the kind of Kind who carried a huge sword and randomly verbed nouns. “Steady. What have I ever done to you?”

She shrugged, and then something sunk in. “Wait. ‘Reynard’?” She raised her eyebrows critically. “I think you’re lying to me.”

“Really,” he said. The lack of a question in his voice was due either to it being a sarcastic, amused sort of statement rather than a question or because he wanted, in some way, to compensate for her excess of question marks earlier. It was hard to tell, but Seren was betting on the former. He seemed that kind of person, and he didn’t seem the grammar type, somehow.

“Yes. Really. Because no one would call their child that.”

His sharp-toothed grin widened by a fang or two. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Her certainty slipped a bit, and she shrugged, wondering what he was so confused about. It was straightforward. “You’re named after the Trickster.” And even someone who worshipped the Trickster wouldn’t be mad enough to incur his wrath or bad luck by naming a child after him, not that the Trickster’s worshippers were likely to be the familiar type. He was one of the most notorious of the gods, and that was really saying something.

Reynard’s grin slipped a bit. “Um,” he said. “In a manner of speaking.”

Seren laughed. “Oh, come on. If you were any more transparent, you’d be glass. You’re one of those people who get off on pointless lying, always making bigger and bigger claims. Next thing you’ll claim you’re the Trickster himself!"

He paused. “Actually,” he said, “now you mention—”

“Whoever you are, I don’t have time for you. I’m on a bit of a … quest … here. And definitely in a bit of a hurry. So get out of the way.”