Free Wintermore (Aeon of Light Book 1) by Aron Sethlen

Kilsa says.
    Yaz steps up behind Preta and gives her a big slap on her butt, making her jump. “You almost ready?”
    Preta trips forward and braces her hands on the produce cart. “Dang it, Yaz. What the heck’s wrong with you?”
    “Did you like that?” Yaz chuckles in short spurts.
    Preta ignores him and shakes her head in annoyance. “Kilsa is filling up the sack now. Ouch , that hurt.”
    Kilsa giggles and blushes. “Oh, hello, Yaz.”
    Yaz puckers his lips and flicks his head at her. “What up, Kilsa?”
    Kilsa, smiling at him, stands in a daze with a slight head tilt.
    Preta snaps her fingers in front of Kilsa’s face. “ Umm — hello .”
    Kilsa refocuses on Preta. “Right—sorry—that will be two silver nibs and a copper.”
    “Dang.” Preta hands her the coins, and Yaz grabs the burlap sack.
    Yaz winks at Kilsa then spins to Preta. “Let’s go, Sis.”
    Preta snorts, watching Kilsa ogle her brother, and then she turns away and waves goodbye. “Thanks, have a good one.”
    “ Huh —” Kilsa says, watching Yaz strut away and nod to every girl he passes.
    “You know you two are perfect for each other,” Preta says.
    Kilsa beams. “ Really ? Yeah I think so too—perfect.”
    Preta rolls her eyes. “Okay, enough weirdness for today. Gotta go. Have a good one.”
    At the cart, Yaz throws the sack into the back.
    Grandpa, reclined in the backseat, snores sound asleep.
    Lurrus gives Deet a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my Deets.”
    Deet leans over the cart, beaming with a drunken smile. He mouths hushed words into Lurrus’s ear, making her giggle.
    Yaz climbs into the front seat and smacks the wooden bench with a crack. “Let’s go, my Deets.”
    Deet, annoyed, punches Yaz in the arm.
    Yaz chuckles, rocking his head, mocking his brother. “ Umm —may I have another, my Deets?”
    “Shut up.”
    Grandpa twitches and snorts. “ Wha-was-tha-you-say-dinner— ”
    Yaz glares at Grandpa. His head angled with a goofy tilt. “I said, may I have another, my Deets?” Yaz bursts into a deep belly laugh, gyrating the rickety wooden seat. He sucks in air between the hysterics then coughs as if he swallowed a bug.
    “Damned fool.”
    Preta giggles, then blocks out the arguing during the entire ride back as Yaz explains arrow versus musket theory and Grandpa corrects him on every point.
    As the boys talk nonsense, Preta is free to disappear into the background. She gazes at the pines and fall trees and clouds, envisioning how she fits into the world and how she can be an artist in Iinia. Though her thoughts drift back to Agna’s warnings, and she dwells on her newfound light. A familiar bent grey fence post crosses her vision, marking the Penter property.
    Roscoe sprints toward the cart, kicking up a dust cloud behind him. The dog runs so fast he skids on the loose dirt and gravel trying to stop. Roscoe recovers, nips the horse’s hoof, and jaunts next to the cart.
    The horse lets out a snort and skips.
    Roscoe weaves through the horse’s legs to the front and takes off in a sprint leading them home.
    It’s dusk, and the cart stops next to the barn.
    Yaz hops off the cart and unhitches Berta the horse.
    Deet carries crates to the cottage.
    Yaz chuckles. “It was a nice day, my Deets!”
    Deet ignores him and disappears inside the house.
    Grandpa points to the chicken coop. “Preta, fetch a big hen for the soup.”
    Preta sighs and lowers her head. “Do I have to ?”
    “Move along, it’ll only be harder the darker it gets. And don’t come back without one.”
    Preta sighs again, and then she strolls to the chicken pen. She whispers to herself, “Strategy, Preta, they smell fear. They sense what you want, be quick, be decisive.”
    Preta faces away from the hens to not startle them.
    In the corner of her eye, she picks out her target. Don’t let her see you looking . Preta slithers through the fence opening.
    The hens cluck and gather in the farthest corner.
    Preta’s mark pecks the