The Summoning of Verenestra
The Summoning Tammet checked over his shoulder, for the hundredth time. Today was the day he’d been preparing for. He looked around the forest again, making sure none of his captors, or a stray hunting party, had followed him or happened upon him by sheer luck. A light wind made the leaves overhead rustle like a soft summer rain. Sunlight filtered down through the leaves upon his long straight black hair. He reached into the hollow of a long dead tree to retrieve the items he’d carefully stowed there over the past weeks. He added a bunch of freshly picked honeysuckle into the burlap bag, with the dried lilac and lavender. The young man, only recently passing his teenage years, turned and carried the bag with him deeper into the fey woods. He’d gathered everything …