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Off-Grid

Pacazahno


“It’s the same!” Ander was saying, somewhat wildly, as Majel and Konsit joiMore arrived in the library. “I swear it’s the same, but—”

“Gently, gently . . . ” Seylin had her hands on the boy’s shoulders, not only offering comfort, but to keep him in one place. As it was, his feet were shifting, as if he were dancing.

“Ander,” Majel said, standing next to Seylin. The boy turned his head, eyes wide.

“Principal ziaGorn.”

“That’s right,” Majel said, keeping his voice smooth and soothing. “Can you tell me what you Saw?”

“The same Intent, sir, as was in the Yellow Room, and there’s, there’s—”

Tears started in the boy’s eyes, and Majel was about to direct Seylin to take him to find some rest, when two persons burst into the room, and rushed toward them.

“Yferen and Chalis,” Konsit joiMore murmured in his ear. “Two of the Haosa who have come to help us search.”

“Someone found a hint, is what we heard,” said the male of the duo.

“I did!” Ander called out. “Please, are you a Sorter or, or a Healer? I—I’ve seen it before, the Intent, but now there’s so much more fixed to it, and I don’t know—”

The other boy held up his hands.

“Neither Healer nor Sorter.”

Ander let out what sounded like a small sob.

“No, nothing’s lost! You’ve Seen it, and you’ve got it tight in your head, I See you do. Challi an’ me’ll help you tease it out, but first you’ve got to eat something! You’re right on the edge, Cousin. It won’t do to fall over, now will it?”

Majel felt Konsit leave her place at his shoulder. He heard her cross the room, and open the door, shouting down the hall to Saffel to bring sandwiches and cakes, on the run!

“But I’ll forget—” Ander protested, his feet moving more desperately against the floor. Majel saw Seylin increase her pressure on his shoulders.

“No,” said the female of the pair—Chalis, Majel told himself. “You won’t forget. Was it one of these machines that was tainted?”

“Yes—that one!” Ander pointed at the mess of broken readers. Majel looked, though he could not have said which particular unit was meant, but Chalis appeared to have no such difficulty.

“And now you’ve told me and Yferen,” she said crisply, “so the memory’s triply safe.”

“But—”

“Trust us to know our own Gifts,” Chalis said firmly. “You must eat, and so ought we, if we’re to go to work.”

“Be good and then some to solve this thing tonight. I don’t like the idea of bad Intentions in the school like this,” Yferen chattered on, easing closer to Ander, around Seylin’s opposite side. He glanced down at the boy’s busy feet, and looked up with a smile.

“It’s a fine night for a Ribbon Dance, Cousin. Thank you for coming to help us when you could’ve been dancing.” He turned his head then, at the sound of something being wheeled rapidly down the hall, with an accompanying clatter of pottery.

“We’ll eat in the hall!” Chalis called, moving to the doorway. “Thank you, Saffel.”

“Welcome, welcome. You need else or more, just holler.”

“We’ll do that—Yferen?”

“Coming,” said Yferen, and he turned his head to look directly at Seylin.

“You’ll want to eat something, too, Civilized. Those’re fine shields, but they don’t come for free.”

Seylin blinked, and inclined her head.

“You’re perfectly correct. Thank you for your care. Ander—”

“That’s the thing, Ander,” Yferen said, smoothly sliding an arm around the boy’s waist. “Let’s dance us over to some of Saffel’s fine food, and a big mug of sweet tea . . . ”

Seylin stepped back, taking her hands from Ander’s shoulders, and Yferen swept him into a showy spin, and began, indeed, to dance toward the door.

Ander laughed, matching step, and the two of them vanished into the hallway in Chalis’s wake.

Seylin turned to Majel.

“Cousin?” she said, carefully.

Majel held up his hands.

“One discovery at a time, my friend. Go, and have something to eat.”


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