by Mira Zamin
“Vinidium,” Pyp whispered the name of Nuala’s village into the cart driver’s ear. His breath created a snowy cloud that hovered in the air for a few moments before dissipating. The carter nodded.
Pyp sought his nursemaid, knowing full well that if there were anyone in all of Gaul who could help him, it would be her. He had not seen her since the day of the battle, when she had dressed him in his play tunic, but he knew, just knew knew knew that she would be waiting for him. He had found Caly in the world of dreams, but he would find Nuala in this one.
And so, the cart driver took Pyp on without a second thought. From Nuala’s tales, he knew the village of the seers was close to hers. As the horses raced through woods, Pyp snuggled in the warm hay and began creating a course of action, not a grand one which would save his home but one that would save only those most immediate necessities: his mother and himself and their friends. Now, he laid his hopes with Nuala, hoping against all logic that she would have some way of saving them.