The book follows Mayra, a hardened survivor carrying a mysterious glyph across the dangerous ecosystems of Lumeria.
Active development.
The old man was wheezing faintly, lying in a pool of blood.
“Yeah, doesn’t look like he’s going to recover from this anytime soon.” Mayra told herself, watching him with indifference.
Lump stared at him with a mix of piety and ridiculous concern, his face lacking any deeper expression. The medallion, hanging from his neck like a cowbell, swayed sadly from time to time as he bobbed his gourd-like head, swollen with fungi.“It’s very important that you take this to the Hive,” the old man said, holding out the opalescent object with trembling hands. “Take my medallion so you’ll be recognized. They’ll know what to do with it. The fate of everyone is in your hands.” He eyeballed her.
“Important” was the kind of word that supplied the world with the most widows, Mayra thought darkly. There was always something important, always something that needed saving. Nonsense.
She had no intention of touching the glyph with her bare hand anyway. She pulled on her gloves and took it from the old man’s hand, stuffing it into a container while eyeing it warily. The itching in her new eye grew more insistent. The old man had asked for her specifically. Lump had come, sweaty and worried, dragging her to the meeting place, muttering something she didn’t bother to catch.
Truth be told, she couldn’t stand priests. They were always tangled in incomprehensible schemes, and Mayra firmly believed they should be avoided at all costs. Well...It doesn't matter. She’d done far stupider things for far less money.