Status Updates From Motheater

"I ain't going to fight no mountain," Motheater said, looking up at Kire, who had just taken his first slouching step towards Kiron. She felt her old assurances again, thrumming through her. She was bound to no god but hope, held by no chains but love. "That mountain's gonna be fighting me."

Wasn't she the Witch of the Ridge, who commanded Dameron to Kimbalton? Wasn't she the moth-eater. adder-eyes. soul-bound? She was Esther of the Rock, and as she shifted to look out of the window, up at the looming Kire Mountain, she felt something open up within her, as big as a spine, as big as Appalachia herself. Wasn't she made for this?

Bennie reached out and took Motheater's wrist gently, pulling it close. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. God, this woman was unfairly weird and all the more attractive for it, and for the power she commanded.

All right. She had a witch, a do-it-yourself attitude, and a pair of wire cutters. She could handle a mountain. Even a live one.