The transparent woman stepped onto the riverbank.
Her bare feet passed through the grass without bending a single blade. Golden light moved beneath her skin in slow currents, and the long green strands floating around her shoulders remained untouched by the heat rising from the grill.
Rangar lowered his skewer.
Robert moved his hand away from the last piece of meat with the guilty care of a man caught stealing from an altar. Scunko licked a greasy paw and hid behind Robert's boot, apparently remembering his own theft.
The woman stopped beside the grill and smiled at the meat sizzling above the coals.
Martin looked from the living gold inside her to the Light Tree towering beyond the canopy. "You're the Light Tree."
"Martin," Rangar whispered urgently. "Ya can't greet her like another stranger who followed the smell."
"The smell brought you here."
"That's different."
The woman's smile deepened. "It is not entirely different."
