Necessity's Child (Liaden Universe®) (40 page)

She put the card down and reached into one of her many pockets, pulling out—his pen.

“Here,” she said, holding it out.

“Don’t you need it anymore?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “U—Nathan found me these colors, for my cards.”

She extended her hand a little further, as if urging him to take the pen. “The
luthia
said it had served its purpose, which was to bring us together.”

He took the pen, which was still warm from having been in her pocket.

“Is the luthia
vey
?” he asked.

Kezzi snorted and picked up a blue stick.

“Sometimes,” she said, bending to her drawing, “you are a very stupid boy.”

“I don’t think—”

“That’s true,” she replied, shaking her head without looking at him. “Will that
gadje
tell Mother you pushed her back?”

Syl Vor sighed, surprised to find that he wasn’t angry, anymore.

“She said so. She also said I should finish the lesson without her.”

“Then you should do it—and do it very well, so she’s shown to be rude
and
stupid.”

Syl Vor laughed, and Kezzi looked up at him.

“Was that funny?”

“No,” he told her, rising into a long stretch. “It was Liaden.”

* * *

“Your eye is quick and your hand is steady,” Udari praised him, as they strolled together down the street, unhurriedly leaving the premises of Al’s Hardware Store, Udari somewhat the richer for a box of nails and Rys by two tin mugs.

“I feel that I may have performed similar actions in the past,” he said, smiling.

“Do you?” Udari looked at him with interest. “Can you say more?”

Rys moved his shoulders, wishing he could say more, but—

“A feeling only,” he said to Udari. “Perhaps it will become clearer, in time. In
this
time, however, I feel I should now find some thread, or Droi will surely eat me.”

Udari cleared his throat.

“It was brother-like, to ask her what she might want,” he said carefully. “But Droi—”

“Droi is dangerous,” Rys interrupted, and laughed slightly. “I know, Brother. And yet . . . it was me she came to, when the
kompani
’s numbers wanted repair.”

He stopped, having heard the sharp intake of Udari’s breath.

“Did she so? Brother, this is—have you brought this to the
luthia
?”

“I did, for being so ignorant, I did not wish to offend, or fall behind any obligation . . .”

“And what said the
luthia
to this?” Udari demanded. “Does she speak to the headman on your behalf? Did she say she would call your brothers to stand before the fire with you when we make you fully Bedel?”

Rys bowed his head, but of course Silain could do none of those things, no matter the tradition of the
kompani
. He was half a man, fear-ridden, with a debt hanging above him and his crime a mystery.

“Silain said that, in three days, she would take me to the mother of the small dragon Syl Vor, so that we might all learn how I have transgressed, and what Balance must be made.”

Silence from Udari, followed by a heavy sigh.

“The
luthia
is wise,” he said, his voice subdued. “These matters have precedence. A man’s soul is his only possession, and that business must be settled before all else.”

He put his hand on Rys’ shoulder. “When the time comes for you to stand before the fire, I will be there, Brother. Believe me.”

Rys blinked his eyes, clearing sudden, foolish tears.

“I do believe you,” he said softly, and reached up to put his gloved hand, very gently, atop his brother’s hand.

“Yes,” said Udari, and raised his head, looking at the sky. “I must fetch the child,” he said. “Will you come, or no?”

“The thread,” Rys said. “I’ll tend to that, and meet you in
kompani
, later.” He reached into his deep inner pocket and pulled out the mugs. “Do you take these to Jin for me.”

Udari took the mugs.

“I will take them to my hearth. You found them; it is yours to give them.”

“All right,” Rys said, smiling. “Until soon, Brother.”

“Until soon.”

* * *

“Ms. Taylor said taxi chits would be given to those who lived a distance away from the new school,” Syl Vor was telling their mother.

Tonight’s meal was a spicy vegetable soup, hot bread and cheese. Kezzi was already on her second bowl of soup and third piece of bread. However, this brought her attention up from her trencher with a jerk. She put the spoon down on the saucer, as she had seen Syl Vor do with his, and leaned forward slightly, watching the lovely, controlled face.

“That is correct,” Mother said. “You and Kezzi will both qualify for chits.”

She had, Kezzi thought, been afraid that would be the case.

“If we can work out the timing with Mike Golden’s watch,” she said now, and stopped as Mother’s eyes found her face, slim brows raised.

“Yes, daughter? Please continue.”

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t think it would be . . . I don’t think my grandmother would want a taxi to come to me. If Syl Vor’s going to take a taxi, I’ll walk here, with Nathan, or another of my brothers, and take the taxi with him.”

“I agree with your assessment, on the basis of the talk I had with your grandmother today,” Mother said calmly. “You may, however, ask the taxi to take you to the location of your choice. You need not go with Syl Vor, unless you wish to do so.”

Kezzi chewed her lip, and looked to Syl Vor.

“I don’t mind going to school with you,” she said. “In fact, it’s prolly better that I do, and keep you out of a fight. But if you’d rather not, or Gavit doesn’t want me, then I’ll tell the taxi another corner.”

Mike Golden was heard to make . . . an odd sound. Kezzi looked up at him, suspiciously, but he was paying close attention to his soup.

“I’d like company on the ride,” Syl Vor said. “I don’t think Gavit will be coming—will he?” he asked Mother.

“That has not yet been decided,” she said serenely. “Certainly, he will be with you on the first day, for there will be a great many people present.”

Kezzi looked at Syl Vor and Syl Vor looked at Kezzi.

“Ms. Taylor said that our school would . . . merge with the other schools, but”—Syl Vor looked at Kezzi again, his brows drawn—“I did not realize there would be so many,” he said.

“I didn’t think so either—a few schools with a few students, like ours.” Kezzi nodded.

“In fact, the lesser part of the first-day crowd will be students,” said Mother. “The Bosses have decided to . . . celebrate their achievement, for the school is something they have worked toward for a very long time, and pushed through to reality despite those who did not want a school and who stopped at very little to destroy it.”

“So that means,” said Mike Golden, leaning back in his chair, “that all the Bosses, and all their ’hands’ll be there to welcome all the students. Prolly be some speechifyin’, an’ maybe a tour.” He rolled his eyes and Kezzi laughed.

“You got no respect for the Bosses?” he asked her sternly.

“Why should I?” she answered. “They’re not
my
bosses!”

“That’s a point, I guess,” he said, looking thoughtful. “Still an’ all, it’s the Bosses who’re puttin’ things in order and built the school, so I’m guessin’ a little bit o’ politeness won’t go amiss. What d’you say to that?”

“Is it polite to force people who are busy to stop what they’re doing and go to
school
?”

“Touché, Mr. Golden,” Mother murmured.

“No law says the law’s gotta be polite,” he objected, and she laughed.

“I think neither side has a compelling argument,” she said, “and so rule the debate suspended until more facts are garnered. Now, I see that it is time for Kezzi to leave us—I sought your grandmother’s approval that you stay with us for a few days together, child. She said that she would dream upon it, so it might be that she will yet approve. In the meanwhile, we have let the meal go late, and it is time for you to find your brother. My son, have you completed the work your tutor left you?”

Syl Vor drew a breath.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Excellent, you may with Gavit escort Kezzi to her brother. When you are returned, come see me in my office.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Syl Vor said again, but he sounded subdued, and Kezzi wondered if he were going to be punished.

“His teacher was not kind today,” she commented, to no one in particular. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mother incline her head slightly, while Syl Vor threw her a wide-eyed look that might have meant she should have said nothing.

“Thank you. Now, I regret, but time presses. Please give my greatest respect to your grandmother.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kezzi said, and got up, Syl Vor rising quickly beside her. “I’ll be happy to see you tomorrow, ma’am.”

Mother smiled. “Thank you, my child. I shall be happy to see you, as well.”

* * *

Acquiring the thread had required somewhat more guile than that required to liberate the two mugs, the proprietor of the dry goods establishment being rather more tender of her wares. Still, Rys managed the thing without difficulty, and hoped very much that Droi would be pleased, rather than insulted, to receive one spool each of red, blue, and black thread.

Perhaps best to give the blue and the black to Silain, he thought, than put Droi’s temper to the test.

He wondered, as he walked along, what might his role be among the Bedel, had he no Balance to make with Korval. Udari had seemed to think that he might become a child of the
kompani
, indeed, though it was hardly clear if that honor came through Droi’s choice, or through his own endeavors.

Indeed, he tried to think of anything that he might have brought to the Bedel, save an amount of botheration that would have escaped them, had he merely been found dead on their doorstep. But Udari, having once saved his life, then felt compelled to repair that which had been damaged . . .

And had done so with wonderful thoroughness.

He strode along quite easily, unaware of the embrace of metal unless he brought his concentration to bear. In point of fact, he felt energized, and quite amazingly well. He could, he thought, walk all—

Rys blinked at the sign over Al’s Hardware, and shook his head at his own stupidity. Clearly, his brothers had mended what could be mended, but there was no helping a man who could became so lost in his thoughts that he lost himself in truth.

So thinking, he adjusted his course, striking obliquely up the hill. He had hoped to be back underground before Udari returned with the child. Now, he would be fortunate to overtake them.

He quickened his pace, liking the bounce in his step, and the way his body responded to his need. The sensation of movement, of ease, of being whole and under his own command—but wait!

On his right hand was the place where the Blair Road tollbooths had been, in the not-so-distant past.

He had lost his direction again.

Rys stopped, there in the wide place in the road—stopped and deliberately took his bearings. His goal was uphill. From where he stood, he could see the sun’s sullen glow off the top of the tallest warehouse building.

He took a deep breath, and centered himself, noticing how well-balanced he stood on two firm legs. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat. The fingers of his gloved hand met something hard, and slipped ’round it in a firm and loving grip. The knife Udari had brought him—
his
knife, according to some unknown woman.

Well, that was no matter now.

Now, he needed to get back—to
go home
—before he was missed, and his brothers disturbed themselves to come out and find him.

What a stupid thing, to become thus turned about, not once, but twice . . .

He began to walk, his eyes fixed on that sullen metal roof . . .

Lightning stitched through his head, leaving a glowing image of agony on the inside of his eyes. His stomach heaved, and he stopped, gasping, his ungloved hand braced against a kindly, nearby wall.

His gloved hand, still in its pocket, gripped the folded knife tighter still, and Rys swallowed, suddenly and entirely terrified.

And then, as if he were only a passenger in this body his brothers had repaired for him, he felt himself turn, downhill, away from the warehouses, away from . . . home, and begin, once more, to walk.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Where’s Malda?” Kezzi demanded of Udari as they turned the corner, leaving Syl Vor and Gavit behind.

“With the
luthia
. I regret that I could not bring him to you this evening, and I predict that his joy will be great when you are at last reunited.”

She smiled, but said sternly.

“Why couldn’t you bring him? He’s not . . . sick? Or”—the old fear gripped her—“not
hurt
?”

“Put your heart at rest, little sister. Your faithful friend is well, though, as I say, mournful in your absence. I couldn’t bring him because I brought Rys, who had some things to find in the city.”

“All right,” Kezzi said reasonably. “Then where’s Rys?”

“Searching for the spool of thread which belongs to Droi.”

She looked up at him, suspecting that he was teasing, which even Udari did from time to time. He met her eyes seriously, and she chewed her lip.

“Droi is too strong for Rys,” she said.

Now
laughter lit Udari’s eyes.

“Oh? And what do you know of a man’s strengths, little wanderer?”

“I
nursed
Rys,” she said with dignity. “He is very small.”

Udari laughed aloud.

“Never say it to him! No, never say it to any of your brothers, be it ever so true!”

Kezzi felt her cheeks warm. This was behavior more common in Pulka than in Udari. And besides, she hadn’t meant
that
.

“You are,” she said severely, “very stupid.”

“I admit it, or such a judgment would never wound me. And before you say that it was Rys so judged, remember that what is brightest in a man is the reflection of his brother.”

“If that’s the case,” said Kezzi, restored mostly to good humor, “then I’ll tell you that Rys is a brave man, and kind, who
never
teases his sister. I wish all of my brothers were like him.”