A Turn of Light by Julie E Czerneda Page A

those loaves and help me carry this—”
    “Don’t you dare take that mess near my loom!”
    Not the best time at all. Jenn turned and fled out the door.
    “Hello, Jenn.”
    She started and almost knocked over one of the doorside vases, steadying it with a hurried grab, then smiled with relief. “Hello, Wainn.”
    Wainn Uhthoff stopped short of the porch, his hat crumpled in both hands, a shy smile on his handsome face. “You’re wearing shoes.”
    “I am.” She lifted a foot for his inspection. “Were you visiting Davi?”
    He blushed bright crimson.
    Ordinarily, Jenn wouldn’t have noticed. After all the talk of husbands and who was suitable at supper, she blushed herself, unsure why.
    They might have stood there like fools a while longer, but Davi chose that moment to step out of his barn for a piece of harness hung out to dry. Spotting them, he waved a greeting, aimed a big thumb toward the river, then went back inside.
    “What does he mean?” she puzzled.
    She hadn’t thought it possible for Wainn to blush hotter, but he did. “That’s where she is.”
    Shouts still rattled the dishes inside the Treff house. “She” could be only one person. “Wen? Good. I was looking for her.”
    “That’s where she is.” As if she hadn’t heard, all the while twisting his hat. “May I visit with you?”
    Visit Wen. Suddenly, Jenn felt ridiculous. What was she thinking? She’d left Peggs with her aunt and the dishes. The two of them probably thought she’d rushed after her father to apologize, which she should have done and assuredly would do as soon as possible, as well as the dishes, but she’d known Lorra Treff most definitely would not welcome a visitor after dark and . . .
    Jenn couldn’t wait. The sun was abandoning another day, leaving her behind. Wen was the only person in Marrowdell who might know if toads could be made into princes. Yes, she didn’t speak, but surely she could give an informative nod or two?
    When Jenn didn’t answer, Wainn gazed longingly toward the river, then back at her. “I’m not allowed to visit alone.”
    Her lips formed a soundless “Oh.”
    He waited patiently, another of the ways he wasn’t like the other young men of Marrowdell. Wainn could stand so still, you forgot he was there. If it wasn’t for his father being Master Uhthoff, their teacher, he might have truly been forgotten. But Dusom Uhthoff and his brother had made sure Wainn was included, in classes, in activities, in the chores they all shared.
    Though until this moment, despite what she’d said to her aunt, Jenn hadn’t thought that could include being a husband one day. As for Wen Treff? She was . . . she was old, wasn’t she? True, Wainn was twenty-eight, but no one thought of him as grown. And Wen? She had to be at least thirty.
    Not to mention the toads.
    The reason she’d come in the first place.
    Jenn gave a resolute shrug. If she helped Wainn, she hadn’t totally wasted her time. She took off her shoes and tucked them safely inside her shirtwaist. “Come with me,” she offered.
    The sun touched the first of the Bone Hills, drawing long shadows from the village buildings, torching the fields to red gold. A swathe of light paved the road toward the valley’s mouth and everything she wanted, an invitation she wasn’t allowed to accept. Turning from it, Jenn led Wainn through the Treff farmyard to the riverbank. There, she took the path through the bushes to the shore.
    The river sparkled and burbled to itself. Behind the Treffs’ it was shallow and rich with reeds, home to waterfowl and frogs. No one hunted here, other than down from old nests or to collect the occasional egg from a large clutch. In return, the birds would sound the alarm when a log floated downstream and lodged in the shallows, a treasure the villagers would quickly pull to shore.
    The water was a deep blue, almost black. Beetles whirled in the still patches, playing tag with their tails. Tiny midges careened back