Lightning Bringer: (Lighting Seeker Book 2)

The Cultivator

A face that was all hard lines, and sharp edges. Wrinkles carved in stone, with hair that was so light, it fell translucently across the woman's face. A harsh face, eyes of ice, and a gaze so cold that it sent chills down Vale's back. A harsh winter incarnate.

"Um... hi," Vale waved awkwardly after the woman known as The Cultivator had been staring at her for a long and deadly silent pause. Vale stood in a small room with poor lighting. A woman in her late sixties sat at a table in the center of the room, her legs propped up on a chair across from her, her thick black boots caked in mud.

The woman continued to stare, her eyes coldly appraising Vale in silence. Crossing her arms, Vale moved to the wall and leaned against it, tired of standing awkwardly when the one extra chair was being used for a pair of feet. "You wanted to see me?" Vale asked, her tone neutral.

The woman blinked and offered a kind smile that split her face in half, a glacier suddenly bright with sunlight. "I apologize. I 'vas just surprised." Her voice was lyrical, lite with a hint of a German accent.

She sat up straight and pulled her feet off the chair, seeming to come to herself. "''Vont you sit?" Vale stared down at the empty chair, now caked in mud, and shook her head.

"I think I'll stand."

The woman chuckled, seeming to be amused. "I saw you blast that chandelier like a fire'vork display. 'Vouldn't you 'vant to meet the person behind an act of rebellion that 'vas so theatric?"

She looked at Vale through a pair of thick glasses, making her light eyes far more inquisitive than they already were. "I've never met any'vone who 'vas so fearless 'ven facing the AI's. 'Vell no one but Mortem. I could use some'vone with your tenacity 'vorking for the Alimentors'."

Vale was flattered and surprised by the sudden change in the room. At least she thought she was. She couldn't quite figure out if tenacious was something the woman admired or just thought was a necessary evil. Either way, The Cultivator finds me useful. "And what do the Tradesmen think about you trying to steal me away?"

The woman laughed, voice gruff, eyes light with a mischief that made Vale feel like she could trust her. "I haven't asked. I care far more about your opinion. If you didn't 'vant to, there 'vould be no point in me checking in with your caretakers now 'vould there?"

Vale laughed, amused. The woman shot her a smirk, seeming pleased with Vale's sudden smile. The Cultivator makes it sound like the others work for me or something. Mortem would hate this. Vale pushed herself off the wall. "Well I am honored that you would be interested, but I am afraid I am going to be busy for some time."

The Cultivator clicked her tongue, looking disappointed. "Shame. Shame. And 'vat poor unfortunate event will have the horror of your terrifying presence?" Again Vale was torn between feeling insulted and amused by the woman's choice of words.

"She will be payin' a visit to the Devinus family," Mortem said, making his presence known from the doorway. Vale wasn't sure how long he had been standing there.

The Cultivator gasped, shock and exasperation cording her voice. "No! Surely you don't intend to 'vaste such promise on such a hopeless placement!"

Mortem ignored her protest. "We all 'ave our part to play in this." He motioned for Vale to leave. Vale turned back to the woman and offered her a bow of the head. "It was an honor meeting you Cultivator. Until our paths cross again."

The woman gripped Vale's metal arm, clinging to it like a lifeline. "I will 'vish you a speedy death. For 'vishing for anything else 'vould be cruel or unrealistic." Mortem pulled The Cultivator's fingers away from Vale's arm.

"Don't be daft. She's fully capable." Mortem shot Vale a look ordering her from the room. The energy in the space changed as The Cultivator ripped her fingers free from Mortem's grip and took up a fighting stance.

"You must change your mind! She is too valuable to throw a'vay!"

Vale ran from the room, The Cultivator's voice echoing behind Vale as she demanded that Mortem reconsider throwing Vale away like a pile of scrap metal. The urgency in The Cultivator's voice sent a chill down Vale's spine, the words seeping into her bones. I will 'vish you a speedy death. For 'vishing for anything else 'vould be cruel or unrealistic.