Necessity's Child (Liaden Universe®) (43 page)

“Are one of you Anna’s brother?” he asked, stopping twelve steps away, both hands in his pockets and his feet poised to run away.

“I am,” Syl Vor said, going quickly forward.

The boy immediately stepped back.

Syl Vor stopped, feeling a flicker of anger.

“Where is Anna?” he demanded, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and almost added her favorite epithet,
you stupid boy.

“I’m to tell you: Your sister’s grandmother decided to go to the party at the new school. Your sister travels with her. She’ll see you soon, at school.”

Syl Vor blinked, and glared. The boy returned the glare for a long moment before turning on his heel and walking back the way he had come.

“Guess we’ll grab that taxi now, Silver,” Gavit said from behind him.

“He was
rude
,” Syl Vor said.

“Noticed that,” Gavit said, jerking his head meaningfully toward the cab. “Last I heard, that wasn’t a killin’ offense.” He sighed. “Sooner you’re in that cab, sooner you’ll see your sister, right?”

Syl Vor took a breath, nodded, and headed for the cab.

* * *

The taxi drew into a long, crescent-shaped drive, and stopped at the apex, discharging them amid a small gathering of children and adults, heads bare and coats open in appreciation of the early morning warmth.

Behind their taxi came another, and another after it.

They moved a little away from the curb, to make room for those who were coming after. Udari went first, opening a path for them to an untenanted piece of sidewalk. There, they stopped, forming a knot like many of the other knotted humans up and down the walkway.

The child crouched down to speak to her dog, murmuring love words and instructions to stay by her into his high-pointed ears. Udari kept a lookout over the crowd, his mouth a little tight.

“Is your brother here?” Silain asked as Kezzi stood up.

“I don’t see him,” the child answered, rising on her toes and looking about them. She shook her head. “I think we’re very early. I don’t see anybody from school.”

Silain nodded and looked about her. A stout
gadje
woman with her hair hidden under a red kerchief smiled as she walked by, and gave a friendly nod. Silain smiled and nodded in return, striving to seem both calm and collected.

In truth, she felt off-center, troubled by fragments half-seen from the World That Might Be. What she saw distressed her—Rys, a flare of fire, a running dog, a splash of blood. She saw the fine building they stood before expand, then crumple in on itself. She saw Nova yos’Galan Clan Korval with blood on her face, her violet eyes staring blindly.

There was no sense to any of it. Perhaps her Sight was failing her. Perhaps the World That Might Be was melting, overheated by the couplings of opportunity, choice, and luck. Perhaps—but there. She closed all of her eyes, deliberately, and bowed her head.

“Let the road be easy,” she murmured, the very first prayer a child of the Bedel is taught. “Let the gleanings be good. Let there be brothers and sisters ’round the hearth at the beginning of the day, and at the end.”

“Grandmother?” asked Udari, looking up at her with a frown. “Are you well? There’s a wall over there you could sit on, and rest.”

She smiled for him, and shook her head.

“I’m fine,” she said, “and the sun is pleasant here.”

A flash of light caught the edge of her eye; she turned her head to watch a cab enter the crescent, even as Kezzi ran a few steps toward the curb, Malda at heel.

“Syl Vor!”

The taxi stopped, the back door opened and a small boy with very bright yellow hair leapt out, followed more slowly by an elder brother. This one paused to look carefully about him. The boy, however, rushed forward, heedless.

Malda barked, and leapt into the air, then sat down by the child’s knee, quivering with joy.

“Hello, Rascal!” the boy said, bending down to ruffle pert ears. The sleeve of his jacket twisted as he did so, and Silain saw a glint of copper ’neath the cuff, which would be the bracelet Kezzi had told her of. He gave the dog’s ears one more robust rub, and straightened.

“I’m glad Isart found you,” Kezzi said.

“Is that his name? He didn’t say.”

“Well, I didn’t tell him to give you his name, only my message. With Isart, you need to be clear.”

“We came as soon as we could. Have you been waiting long?” he asked.

“No. Is Mother coming?”

“Yes, with Cousin—with Boss Conrad and Mike, and Mr. McFarland. They should be here soon. Is the rest of the school here?”

“Not yet.”

They had by this time returned to their small knot. The boy raised his head and smiled.

“Good morning, Nathan.”

“Good morning, small dragon. Streetman Gavit.”

“’Morning,” the watchful one said.

There was a pause. The boy looked to Kezzi.

“Will you introduce me to your grandmother? Or should I go away?”

“Are you going to be stupid on our very first day in the new school?” she asked him, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. “Grandmother, this is my brother Syl Vor. I hope he finds favor with you.”

Silain smiled.

He was a slight boy. Had she not had the experience of Rys, she would have said, an undergrown boy. Knowing what she knew, she saw a boy who was slight, but supple, and perhaps even well-grown for his age. His face was thin, his nose was straight, and his mouth was firm. Had she not already known who he was, his eyes would have told her that he belonged to Nova yos’Galan.

“It makes my heart glad, to meet the brother of my granddaughter,” she told him, which was only a little different than what she might have said in their own tongue. She gave him her hand.

He took it, his fingers cold, his grip respectful.

“I’m happy to meet you, ma’am.” He hesitated, looking up at her seriously. “May I call you Grandmother?”

“Yes. That will do very well. Now, you must introduce me to
your
brother.”

“No, ma’am,” that worthy said earnestly. “I’m not Silver’s brother. One of Boss Nova’s ’hands, that’s me, come to keep the boy outta trouble.”

“But you still need to be introduced,” the boy said. “It’s polite.”

“Well go ’head then,” Boss Nova’s ’hand answered. “Might as well get some polite done to wash out the rude.”

The boy turned, and inclined his head.

“Grandmother, this is Gavit, of my mother’s household. Gavit, this is my grandmother.”

“Ma’am,” he said, giving her a quaint and grave little bow.

“I’m happy to meet you, Gavit,” Silain said. She gave him a smile, but not her hand.

“Here comes Mother,” Syl Vor said, turning to point at yet another cab drawing into the crescent.

* * *

Udari watched as Mike Golden emerged from the car, followed by a very large man wearing a very large gun on his hip. A much slighter man followed him, and then Nova yos’Galan, looking even more beautiful in the free sunshine.

Udari expected them to pass on, as had so many of the others, but no. All four came directly to them, as if they were Bedel, and not
gadje
at all, to give respect to the
luthia
.

“Good morning, Grandmother,” Nova yos’Galan said to the
luthia
. “Please allow me to present my cousin, Boss Conrad. Cousin, here is the grandmother of whom I spoke.”

“Grandmother.” The man bowed with evident respect. “I am very happy to meet you.”

“As I am happy to meet the Boss Conrad,” the
luthia
replied with a smile that said his manners pleased. “The headman dreams upon a proper course, and I am hopeful that you and he will soon share a pipe.”

“I look forward to that, most eagerly,” he said. “We are somewhat ahead of our colleagues, the other Bosses. And it would appear that we are somewhat ahead of our scholars, too. Mr. McFarland, would you mind a walk about the courtyard in my company?”

“’S’what you pay me for,” the big man said, giving him a glinting grin.

“Ah, yes, how could I have forgotten?” The Boss Conrad bowed again to the
luthia
.

“Grandmother, I take my leave. I look forward to talking with you much more, when we can both be comfortable.”

The
luthia
released him with a gracious nod and he moved off, the big man at his back.

“I expect it will be some minutes before the program begins,” Nova yos’Galan said, looking over her shoulder at the line of cabs inching up the crescent.

“Malda needs a run,” Kezzi said, “if he’s going to have to be still and good while people
talk
.”

Mike Golden laughed.

“I don’t know as they expect to talk all that much,” he said. “But it might be a good thing to be sure he don’t get restless.”

“My granddaughter is wise,” Silain said, and caught Udari’s eye. “Will you accompany your sister, my son?”

He met her eyes, saw in them her command.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“May I go, too?” Syl Vor asked, looking to his mother.

She smiled.

“Certainly.”

* * *

Malda speedily took care of his concerns in the rock-laced grass patch at the side of the building. Kezzi found a thin piece of wood by a garden shed and threw it. Malda ran after the toy and brought it back, laying it at her feet, then backing away, front legs flat on the ground, tail stuck high in the air, tongue lolling; his whole body quivering while he waited for her to throw again.

“Here, you throw it for him,” Kezzi said, handing him the stick.

Syl Vor took it uncertainly, then grinned when Malda, seeing that his toy had changed hands, barked and jumped and spun in a circle.

Laughing, Syl Vor threw, sending the stick end over end, down close to the building. Malda rocketed off after it, picked it up—and then dropped it, nose to the ground, tail suddenly gone still.

“Oh, no,” Kezzi said. “I hope it isn’t a rat.”

“Best to call him back, Sister,” Udari said.

“Yes. Malda! Come!” she called, snapping her fingers.

But the little dog didn’t seem to hear her. He continued sniffing the ground, his tail stiff, gave three high-pitched yips and ran full-speed down the school building.

Kezzi said a word Syl Vor didn’t know and leapt into a run.

“Come on!” Syl Vor cried to Udari, and raced after her.

* * *

The dog vanished ’round a corner and set up a series of yips; the sound meant he had found what he had been hunting.

A rat, then, though Udari, between annoyance and relief. The dog knew very well how to deal with a rat.

Ahead, Kezzi flashed around the corner, her brother not two steps behind her; Udari only four long strides behind him.

The dog stopped barking.

“Rys!” Kezzi cried.

Udari came round the corner and stopped, staring down at his brother, who had the dog gathered to him, gloved hand holding the pointed muzzle tight.

“Brother?”

“Udari.”

The other lifted his face, and Udari near cried out,
Brother, what has happened to you?

It was Rys, and yet it was not Rys. He looked into eyes that had seen terrible deeds done, bleak and blank in the face of a man who had performed horrors.

“Udari,” this apparition said, in his own brother’s precious voice. “For love of me, take the children and the dog, and
go
! Soon, there will be an explosion—a small explosion, nothing to worry you. After, unless I can stop it, there will be another—and that one will be very bad. Go now. Please. Take the children. Try, if you can, to move those who have gathered away from the building.”

“Let me help you, Brother,” Udari said. “Kezzi, Syl Vor—take Malda and go. Do as Rys asks.”

“You help me best by going with them. By keeping safe,” Rys said, and it seemed to Udari that he saw his brother’s soul draining out of his eyes, leaving only a terrible stranger. “Brother, will you go?” he whispered.

“Yes. Kezzi, take the dog.”

She leaned down, received a shivering Malda into her arms.

“Rys,” she whispered. “Do you remember now? Everything?”

“Too much,” he told her, his soft voice harsh.

He rose, holding the door open wide; beyond was a long straight hallway.

“Follow this; it leads to the main entrance. Go now, little sister. Please.” He looked past her to the boy. “Child of Korval, mind your duty.”

The boy went back a step, as if the words had been a blow, then snatched Kezzi’s arm.

“He’s right. If there will be an explosion, we have to warn people to move!”

He pushed past Rys, pulling her with him. In a moment, they were running down the wide hallway.

“Brother,” Udari said, tears in his eyes. “You have a place at my hearth, always.”

He followed the children. When he had nearly overtaken them, he looked back, but the door was closed, and Rys was gone.

* * *

Kezzi had put the dog down, and he ran ahead of them, claws scrabbling and sliding. The hall bent; the children slowed, wary of the slick floor, and Udari came into the lead.

The door directly ahead of him was flung open. The dog shot past and was gone, before a small, yellow haired woman came out into the hall.

Udari skidded on the slick surface, went to one knee, and leapt up again, his knife in his hand.

“You!” he cried, and lunged.

There was a sharp crack, a sensation of impossible, encompassing pain . . . and nothing.

* * *

Syl Vor saw the door begin to swing open, grabbed Kezzi and pushed her into the alcove of a stairway.

“You!” Udari’s voice echoed against the walls.

So did the sound of the shot, a moment later.

Beside him, Kezzi stood silent, scarcely seeming to breathe.

Syl Vor inched to the edge of their hiding place and peered around.

Udari lay on the floor, unmoving, blood on his coat, on the floor under his arm. Over him stood a yellow-haired woman. Syl Vor bit his lip, watching as she slid her gun into her holster, and raised her other hand, in which she held something that looked like a remote.

She pressed a button.

A flash lit the length of the hall. Thunder roared, rolled, and died.

The woman stood, in an attitude of waiting. Then, with an exclamation of annoyance, she began to walk toward them.