”“Only if we get caught,” I jokingly replied.Beth reached out and lightly touched my arm.“Babe,” she proffered, “We gotta be careful. The ...eighbors talk.”“Yes, they do,” I replied. “Too much.”Beth nodded her head in agreement. She proffered an air kiss.“Be good,” she said, adding, with a smile, “and if you can’t be good, at least have fun.”Before I could respond, she drove off, leaving me standing alone with my thoughts outside my mailbox at the cub.It would be a few days before Beth and I. As soon as my hand touched the lines they became brighter but that was not what frightened me. The thing that scared me was that as soon as I touched the surface I heard a girl or a woman speaking inside my head. Once I removed my hand, the voice stopped; but the places that I had touched remained bright. Then I understood that what I saw in front of me was writing. It was not Anglon. It was the Old Language.If my father made sure that I could hunt, my mother made sure that I could read and. More

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