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Off-Grid

The Tree House


Arbour had suggested Lilac Cottage, directly on the village square, as possibly suitable to Aunt Asta’s needs.

Tekelia, following them to the cottage, with its signature lilac shingles, privately thought it would prove ineligible, given the amount of traffic on the square. Aunt Asta after all had lived retired in her apartment in the Wardian, seeing only staff and the Warden—

“Oh! This is delightful!” Aunt Asta proclaimed, turning in the center of the great room. She crossed to the large windows looking out over the square, and the group of cousins slowly assembling to see who had come among them.

She turned to Arbour.

“Will they visit, do you think, or will they be shy?”

Arbour laughed. “They’re Haosa! Of course they’ll visit!” She paused. “If you’d prefer a quieter location—”

“No, I declare this a perfect situation!” Aunt Asta swept out of the great room, down the hall, accompanied by a clatter of doors being opened—and calling out her delight at the back room with its windows overlooking the garden and lawn.

“That will be my library!” she declared, arriving back at the front. “Thank you so very much, my dear. I hope you won’t be a stranger here.”

Arbour grinned. “I’m Haosa, too,” she said.

Aunt Asta laughed, and took herself outside, down the path to the cluster of cousins loitering there.

“Good morning!” she said blithely. “I am Asta vesterGranz, and I will be living here. All of my things are at Tekelia’s house. Who of you might be willing to help me move them?”

* * *

They had all trooped back to Tekelia’s house, cousins and hand wagons in train. Tekelia had retired to the porch with a glass of wine, to give Aunt Asta adequate scope for direction, and the willing movers room to work.

So much for assumptions, Tekelia thought, looking out over the trees. Of course, Aunt Asta had lived retired, but she had done so by Civilization’s command, not her own free choice.

Indeed, it appeared that Aunt Asta quite liked people—only hear her chattering and laughing with her willing helpers.

Tekelia sipped wine, and smiled, and reached within to touch a particular lavender ribbon. Padi felt the touch, and sent a ripple of affection, well laced with contentment. Tekelia sent the same, and withdrew to the trees, the porch, the wine.

In the great room, the bustle continued. Tekelia leaned elbows on the railing and considered less pleasing things.

Bentamin would be duty bound to report the Oracle’s retirement to the Council. The next meeting of the Council of the Whole, according to the Tattler, was tomorrow. It was certain to be an uncomfortable meeting, Tekelia thought, and wished that there was some way to be certain that Civilization would not be appointing a new Warden as part of the proceedings.

“Tekelia?” Aunt Asta called from the great room.

Tekelia stepped through the door.

“Here, Aunt. What’s to do?”

She laughed.

“I came to tell you that everything is packed into the wagons and made secure. We’ll be leaving for my cottage now. I am promised a meal at Stiletta’s house, and Klem tells me that her sister has already been in to dust and open the windows. She also sent for more bookshelves, which should be in place by the time I arrive. So you see I’m very well taken care of, and you mustn’t worry about me.”

Tekelia smiled.

“You carry all before you, Aunt Asta. I’ll try not to worry, though I hope I’ll be allowed to visit now and then?”

“I insist upon it! In fact, if your arrangements allow, visit this evening with your Padi.” Her gaze grew distant for a moment, as if she were contemplating something just beyond Tekelia’s shoulder. “Yes, this evening will be very good.”

Her gaze sharpened, and she looked to Tekelia’s face.

“That,” she said, “felt . . . rather odd.”

“The ambient does interact with our Gifts,” Tekelia said. “It may take some getting used to.”

“I look forward to becoming accustomed,” Aunt Asta said. “Until this evening, my dear.”

“Until this evening, Aunt Asta.”

On that, she was gone, clattering down the outside stairs as gay and as heedless as a child.


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Framed