Colemenoport
Wayfarer
“Did your meeting end early?” Padi asked, when they had settled side by side on the couch and each sampled one of the cookies from the tin.
“It wasn’t a meeting, but a party. The village gathered to welcome the two children who were sent to us, and whose care we have formally accepted.” Tekelia half-smiled. “The Haosa are nothing, if not protective of the small.”
“Do people make a habit of giving the Haosa children to protect?”
“It’s not uncommon. Whether the thoughts of those who send them tend in the direction of protection, I can’t say.”
Padi frowned.
“But—where do they come from?”
“Civilization, of course. Most Haosa are born under the Grid. I was myself.”
Padi paused in the act of reaching for another cookie, and turned to stare. There was a line between her eyebrows and her mouth was straight and tense.
Tekelia felt a pang. Of course, Padi yos’Galan would also be a protector of the small.
“If you please,” she said, her voice tight. “I would prefer not to have a game of catch me on this topic.”
Tekelia put a hand on her knee.
“Forgive me. I’ll try to be straightforward. The case is this: When a Civilized child is found to have a direct connection to the ambient, and doesn’t require the tools of Civilization in order to obtain desired results, there are two courses open to the family.
“The first is to send the child to the Haosa, off-Grid, where they will live among their own kind.”
Tekelia paused. Padi was still intent, face taut, waiting.
“Most families prefer to have a Healer seal the unruly Gift away—”
Padi stiffened under Tekelia’s hand.
“Seal,” she said, and Tekelia looked at her in surprise, seeing that the information had increased her distress.
“I’m an idiot,” Tekelia said.
Padi shook her head.
“No. It’s only that I have had . . . personal experience with the sealing away of Gifts, and it was not . . . happy. In fact, I’m surprised to learn that Colemeno Healers practice such a thing. Every Healer aware of my case begged me to unseal, lest I do myself lasting harm.”
Tekelia blinked.
“Why did you seal your Gift away?”
She moved a hand as if brushing the question aside.
“Let me understand this, first. Then it will be my turn to tell a story.”
She leaned forward for her cup and sipped, Tekelia following suit. When the cups were replaced, she nodded again.
“We had reached the point in the narrative where fond families make their children Deaf and forgetful in order to keep them safe under the Grid.” She blinked thoughtfully. “But the Deaf are not Civilized.”
“Yes, but they are protected, by their families and by the whole of Civilization. Off-Grid is understood to be a much more dangerous situation, and there are those who would never choose danger for their children.”
“Your family did,” Padi remarked.
Tekelia laughed.
“Well, vesterGranz and chastaMeir are equally apt to throw out a Wild Talent or a Civilized one. There’s my cousin Bentamin, the Warden of Civilization; myself, not only Haosa, but a Child of Chaos; and of course, our Aunt Asta, Oracle for Civilization. Two Wild Talents in two generations—very Wild Talents, if I am not modest, and Bentamin is an extremely strong multi-Talent.”
“You want me to understand that you are overachievers.”
“Exactly!”
Padi took a breath.
“What happens,” she said, carefully, “if one of the . . . sealed away—remembers?”
“Ah, well.” Tekelia shook off the unfamiliar urge to look away from her gaze. “Suicide is most common, in such cases. Rarely, whole families have been eradicated.” Tekelia took a breath.
“But, you see, the Healers are skilled, and it takes an extremely strong will to break imposed forgetfulness, so it happens very seldom.”
“It happened in your family,” Padi said, and Tekelia smiled at the certainty in her voice.
“Our family knows itself. Not even the least of us can be called biddable.”
Padi laughed. “One more thing that we have in common,” she murmured, and reached for her cup.
They each had another cookie to finish the tea. Padi put her shoulder against the back of the couch and her knee on the cushion so that she faced Tekelia, her eyes serious.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?” Tekelia asked in turn.
“Why is it like this?” Padi burst out. “I understand that the first wave of colonists succumbed to the effects of the ambient. The second wave built the Grid as protection. Does living under the Grid damage Haosa?”
She stopped, face arrested, and leaned forward to take Tekelia’s hands in hers.
“I am not harmed by being under the Grid,” Tekelia said, squeezing her fingers gently. “At most, I’m slightly irritated because, on-Grid the ambient is, as you noted yourself, less malleable than I prefer. That aside, I can work with it perfectly well.
“As for why—”
The light came on in the alcove, and the outside door chittered slightly.
Padi came to her feet, seeing a flutter of mist from the corner of her eye, but Tekelia was at her shoulder.
Dyoli and Mar Tyn entered the Great Room first, followed by Father, and Grad last of all. Dyoli and Mar Tyn merely looked weary, as well they ought. Father . . .
Father’s face was perfectly expressionless, and Padi shivered as if in a chill breeze, as a bland silver gaze passed over them.
“Daughter,” he said, perfectly neutral. “Tekelia-dramliza.”
“Father—Dyoli, Mar Tyn.” Padi went forward, hands outstretched. “All of you—sit. You as well, Grad. I will fetch wine and call the kitchen.”
“I will fetch wine,” Tekelia said, and she threw a grateful look over her shoulder.
“Thank you.” She turned back, moving a hand.
“Here is my friend, Tekelia vesterGranz,” she said in quick introduction. “Tekelia, you recall my father. Also, we have Dyoli ven’Deelin Clan Ixin, Mar Tyn pai’Fortana, and Grad Elbin.”
Mar Tyn and Dyoli bowed, Dyoli in addition murmuring, “Well met, Luzant vesterGranz,” before they went to the sofa.
Grad gave a nod, and followed them.
Father remained on the threshold, watching the room with that alien, chilly detachment.
Padi poured a glass of the red and went to him. It was a moment before he inclined his head and took it from her hand.
“My thanks,” he murmured, distantly.
“Priscilla went to the dock,” she said, meeting his eyes firmly. “She should be back very soon with Dil Nem and Qe’andra dea’Tolin.” She paused.
“Please, Father—sit down.”
It was a relief to see one slanted brow lift slightly. He raised his glass, and took a sip before moving toward the sofa.
Turning, Padi saw that the teacups and the cookie tin had been removed from the table, replaced by a tray holding glasses and decanters. Grad had just poured a glass of the local green, and was offering it to Dyoli.
Padi went to the comm, ordering a plate of sandwiches, and, on impulse, a high-energy tray.
In the kitchen, Tekelia had put the cups into the washer, rinsed and started the kettle, and was putting clean cups onto a tray.
“In case wine isn’t what’s wanted,” Tekelia said, with a nod toward the tea case. “Potent or soothing?”
“Soothing, by all means,” Padi said, and took a deep breath. “Thank you, my friend.”
“No need for that.” Tekelia was measuring tea into the pot, and glanced at her out of eyes that were slightly different shades of blue.
“Your father looks tired. Shall I stay?”
There was a question inside that question, Padi understood, though it took several heartbeats to grasp that Tekelia was asking if Father was—dangerous.
“I’ve never seen him so—stern,” she murmured. “It may have gone badly, at the guard house. We’ll know soon. He will wait for Priscilla, so to tell the tale only once.”
The bell over the food lift rang, and she went to open it.
Æ
Shan sat at the end of the sofa, wineglass in hand. He needed—or say, he wanted—Healspace, but he didn’t quite dare it, not in his present state, with the vulnerable around him, and Colemeno’s damned ambient—
No. No more agitation. He would be calm. He was a Healer; calm was not beyond him. Though without entering Healspace, it was somewhat more difficult to achieve.
Really, Shan, use your wits, he told himself, and closed his eyes.
A breath, and another, to clear his mind, before he accessed a calming exercise taught to hopeful pilots. He felt himself warm, the sense of abrasion fading somewhat. Yes. That would do. Later, when he and Priscilla were alone, then he would open himself to his lifemate and receive the benediction of her Healing.
He opened his eyes.
The center table had been expanded to its full width, and Padi was just sliding sandwiches and the standard restorative tray onto it, while Tekelia placed teapot and cups.
Padi straightened and looked at him, her face calm, though he could See how worried she was.
“Tekelia was kind enough to bear me company until you returned,” she said, by which he learned that she feared some part of his present deplorable state was because he had found her friend with her. That was ill-done of him. He met Tekelia’s mismatched blue eyes, and inclined his head.
“Thank you for your care of my daughter,” he said, perhaps not as warmly as he might have done, but he had at least offered simple courtesy.
Tekelia bowed in the Colemeno style.
“It is my pleasure, sir.” A glance aside.
“Padi? Is there anything else I may do for you this evening?”
“I think not, my friend. Thank you for coming.”
Turning, Tekelia bowed to the group at large.
“I am pleased to have met you, and hope to meet you all again, when time is not so dear.”
There were murmurs in response, Dyoli producing a nod and a weary smile. Tekelia moved ’round the couch, heading for the foyer. After a moment, Padi followed.
She hadn’t quite put her hand on the plate when the door opened.
* * *
Shan looked up as Priscilla entered, bearing a large object swathed in cloth, and a bag slung over one shoulder. He felt a shiver, and leaned forward to put his glass on the table.
Following Priscilla were Dil Nem and Jes dea’Tolin, Karna bringing up the rear. They paused at the side of the sofa, Padi and Tekelia behind them.
Priscilla put the bag off her shoulder, letting it slide to the floor next to one of the half-loungers. She gently placed the large object on the seat of the chair, and pulled the covering off.
Lady Selph was standing tall on her back legs, looking every inch the imperious dowager that she was.
Shan considered her, feeling a chill run his spine, then raised his eyes to meet Priscilla’s.
“By my specific order,” she said gently, and he felt her chagrin as his own. He closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and rose to bow.
“Welcome to arriving crew,” he said, with what cordiality he could muster.
“Allow me to make you known to Tekelia vesterGranz, Speaker for the Haosa. Tekelia-dramliza, I bring your attention to Dil Nem Tiazan, Third Mate on Dutiful Passage; Jes dea’Tolin, qe’andra, and Lady Selph, norbear.”
Tekelia produced another bow.
“I am honored.”
“Tekelia vesterGranz,” Dil Nem murmured, bowing. “Well met.”
“Speaker vesterGranz,” Jes said, also bowing. “An honor.”
Yes, well.
Shan took another breath, looked over the room, and knew in his heart that he had expended his last tithe of energy.
“My children,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “It has been a long and exceptional day. Please refresh yourselves. Let us plan to meet tomorrow over nuncheon. Trader yos’Galan, I have three meetings scheduled for tomorrow morning at the office. Are you able to take them for me?”
“Of course, Master Trader.”
“Stout heart. I will forward my notes to you. We will also wish to see you at nuncheon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Priscilla turned, beckoning to Dil Nem and Jes.
“Let me show you to your rooms, and sign you into the apartment’s security. You’ll be able to order refreshments directly—an ingenious system.”
Murmuring, she bustled them out.
“Will you be wanting us, sir?” Grad asked carefully.
Shan shook his head.
“Go and rest, all of you. I assure you that I am going to my room, where I intend to stay for the next eight hours, at least.”
“Yes, sir.” Grad bowed, and Karna did. Grad picked up a plate of sandwiches, Karna a plate of cookies, and both moved toward Tima’s room.
Shan turned a speculative gaze on Lady Selph. She met his eyes, and he felt a fizz of excitement from her. Gods. A norbear. Here, on Colemeno, with its ambient conditions.
“I’ll take care of her,” Padi said, from beside him. He looked down, seeing worry in her face. “Father. Go and rest.”
“Yes,” he said gently. “I shall. Thank you, Daughter. I trust you will not allow her to bully you.”
“We have quite gotten beyond that,” Padi told him. She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek, then stepped back.
Shan turned, felt a brush of intention against his shields. He turned to look at Tekelia vesterGranz.
“I’ve dealt that trick myself, more than a few times,” he said, his voice cool but not, he trusted, uncordial. “Pray, do not think me ungrateful. It is a kindly impulse.”
Tekelia bowed, allowing dismay to show.
“Let’s both agree that it was a foolish attempt. I’ve only lately been informed that I’m a blunt instrument, more like a hammer than a loom.”
Shan nodded gravely. “So were we all, once. The answer is to practice with your shuttle. Good evening, both.”
“Sleep well, Father,” Padi said.
Æ
Padi turned to look at Tekelia.
“Did you try to give Father ease?” she asked, half-unbelieving.
Tekelia sighed.
“I did, and you see how well it went.”
“It might have gone far worse,” she said. “And he did acknowledge it a kindly impulse.”
“So he did. I’m not utterly in disgrace, then.”
“I would say not. Here, I ought to see Lady Selph settled.”
She moved to the chair, and bowed to the attentive norbear.
“Good evening, Lady Selph. I knew you would find a way down to us.”
A chuckle—rather, the sense of a chuckle—flowed agreeably through her head as she bent down to pick up the cage. Tekelia already had the bag in hand, and stood to one side, apparently waiting to follow her lead.
Padi turned toward her room.
Æ
“Thank you for your assistance, Councilor,” Bentamin said, as he and Majel ziaGorn exited the guard house.
“You’re kind to style it so,” Majel returned, irritation still edging his voice, and blew out a hard breath. “Could he not feel the distress coming off of them?”
Bentamin blinked, and looked at him with interest.
“Chief bennaFalm? Possibly not. He’s not particularly empathic. If they had been guilty, he might have caught that. But guilt, of course, is heavier and grittier than grief, or distress.”
“Is it?” Majel moved his shoulders. “Specialist ringZun surely—”
“Specialist ringZun was not there in an advisory capacity,” Bentamin interrupted. “Perhaps I should have intervened earlier, but I hesitate to put the Warden’s whole weight onto working systems.”
“Yes, of course. Trader yos’Galan did well to alert me. I will call on the trade mission tomorrow, to see if lasting harm has been done. The master trader . . . it was a terrible necessity forced upon him. That he became by chance a hero of Colemeno . . . ”
Bentamin stirred.
Majel looked to him.
“Yes?”
“Put it to him that way, when you speak to the master trader. I did feel that he carries a burden heavier than the outcome of his deeds may warrant.”
“I will express Colemeno’s gratitude,” Majel said. “Will you report the final outcome of the Reavers to the Council?”
Bentamin frowned.
“We’ll have to have the transcript from the room, and—a confidential session, if we don’t want the master trader’s work disrupted any further.”
“Which we do not,” Majel said firmly. “It is to Colemeno’s benefit to give the trade mission every assistance it asks for, and otherwise to stand aside and let them make their inventories and audits.”
“I agree,” Bentamin said, solemnly, and inclined slightly from the waist.
“It is late,” he observed. “I offer to take you wherever you are next bound.”
Majel blinked.
“That is a gentle courtesy,” he said. “Do you know Cardfall Casino?”
“I know Riverview Park, across the street,” Bentamin said promptly. “It was a favorite morning walk of mine, when I was at university.”
“It’s a favorite walk of mine, too,” Majel said. “I accept your offer of transport.”
“Your arm, please, Councilor,” Bentamin said, and when they were linked, arm-in-arm, he brought the image of the path curving along the river’s edge, under the lumenberry trees, to mind.
A moment later, the street was empty.
Æ
“Shan?”
A cool hand was placed gently on his forehead. He sighed as much for the coolness, as for the beloved familiarity of her pattern, soothing abraded nerves, and granting him a tithe of peace.
“Priscilla.”
He opened his eyes, and looked up at her, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, her face tired.
“Crew settled in?”
“They are, yes. I’m assured that the quarters are very pleasant, and that they will wait on you tomorrow at nuncheon. I left Dil Nem ordering up a bottle of wine. Jes allowed that she would welcome a rest before going in to heavy planning.”
“That’s well, then.”
“Yes.” She sighed.
“I am sorry,” she said, “about Lady Selph.”
“One can scarcely be sorry about Lady Selph,” he said. “Only, I do wonder how it happened.”
“So did I,” Priscilla said. “Then, I remembered that I had nodded off—just for a minute!—when I was speaking with Danae, arranging for Dil Nem and Jes to come to us. It had been a long day, and I was tired, and I didn’t think anything more of it at the time.”
“So you had no notion until this evening?”
“None at all. I’m afraid my shock showed. Dil Nem was very clear that it had been my order—‘Lady Selph and none other to be our third.’”
She sighed and looked around.
“Where is the lady?”
“Padi rashly volunteered to act as host, and given my state of mind, that seemed best.”
“Yes, of course. About that state of mind—”
She reached down again and smoothed his hair back.
“Are we finished? The trade mission, I mean. On account of being Reavers, or having had congress with Reavers?”
“The security chief might have liked that, but neither the Warden nor Councilor ziaGorn would have it. Not that we are anything like Reavers, which even the chief admitted. I simply had to tell them that I was responsible for the deaths of dozens, including all of the Talents Tarona Rusk sent to Colemeno.”
He sighed.
“I found it . . . difficult to have my murders put on display, and my reasons—especially my reasons for allowing Tarona Rusk to live—called into question. One is, so I gather from Security Chief bennaFalm, an idiot.”
He waved a hand, deliberately shapeless.
“That aside—the trade mission is free to continue its work.”
“Good.” She looked down into his face, and he felt her love wash through him.
“I offer,” she said, “a healing.”
He smiled, and lifted a hand to touch her cheek.
“You, my love, are in no less a state than I am. I will not ask it of you. Let us sleep and take stock tomorrow, to see what can and should be done before I am required to present myself as civilized and peace loving.”
“Instead of a bloodthirsty savage from outer space,” Priscilla said, nodding wisely. “But, I wasn’t clear. I offer a small healing.”
She rose, grabbed his arm; pulled him upright, then to his feet.
“I don’t say that I’m not tired enough to sleep standing up, Priscilla, but—”
She started across the room, towing him with her.
“We will shower,” she said. “After, we will go to bed. And we will sleep.”
“You’ve thought this out,” Shan said.
“A small healing,” she answered, “is what I offered.”
“So you did. I accept.”
Æ
Padi sat back on her heels and shook her head.
She had freshened the little nest of soft rags in the corner of the carrier, and put pellets, freeze-dried fruits, and a cup of water onto the dining shelf. An image formed inside her head—warm sand and a broad arcing leaf—and Padi shook her head.
“A problem?” Tekelia asked from behind her.
She looked up, moving her hand to show the cage and its regal inhabitant.
“This is not at all what she’s used to. Dried fruits, pellets, and still water will satisfy her for an overnight, but I shall have to do better, tomorrow.”
“And your tomorrow, as I was privileged to hear, is already quite full of necessary tasks, though admittedly none as important as the lady’s comfort.”
Tekelia knelt, graceful and smooth, and inclined slightly from the waist.
“Lady Selph, I’m pleased to renew our acquaintance. I offer service. What is necessary to your peace and comfort?”
Padi folded her hands on her knee as images began to flow. Quite vivid, those images, very nearly real in the space between the travel case and themselves.
Running water.
Sand.
Green, growing plants.
There was a pause as those images faded, and a sense of deep thought before another image formed—
A norbear, not any of Lady Selph’s shipboard cuddle, Padi saw—in fact, not a particular norbear at all. Merely the idea of a norbear. Lady Selph wanted company.
The phantom norbear faded away, and Tekelia nodded.
“I understand. I may undertake all but the last of those for you this evening, if you and Padi allow. An associate is not something that I may conjure in so short a time, though I know someone who I think would welcome the counsel of one so much older and well traveled. I’ll make inquiries. In the meanwhile—”
Tekelia looked at Padi.
“Let me solve this for you. I’ll be an hour, maybe a few minutes more.”
Padi smiled.
“Far be it from me to deny an eager suitor. I can see you’re quite smitten.”
Tekelia laughed.
“Soon.”
Mist swirled—and Tekelia was gone.
“Well,” Padi said. “I am not a norbear, a fact we have discussed at length. However, I offer a cuddle.”
She leaned forward to work the latch; raised the gate and sat back, arranging herself cross-legged.
Lady Selph stood on her back legs, ears twitching as she considered the open doorway.
Then she dropped to all fours and deliberately walked through the door and onto Padi’s knee.
Padi thought of flowers in the garden at Trealla Fantrol, and the feel of the sun on one’s face.
Lady Selph accepted those images, giving back the sound of water flowing, and the movement of fronds overhead.
Padi smiled, put her arms lightly around the lady, and closed her eyes.
Æ
“Mar Tyn.”
Here it came, Mar Tyn thought with resignation, and turned to face Dyoli where she stood at the side of their small dining table. She had put her wineglass down beside the plate of sandwiches, and was looking at him wearily.
“Yes?” he said. He went to the table and put his own glass down before reaching out to touch her cheek.
“We might quarrel tomorrow,” he suggested. “When we both have our wits about us.”
“And likely to do less damage.” Dyoli gave him a half-smile. “Only, I don’t intend to quarrel, my Mar Tyn. I merely wish to ask why you broke our link at the restaurant. Something was building—I felt it—and we might have avoided pain.”
“Something was building,” he agreed. “And whatever it was, it was ill. I—I felt it, like a cold shadow cast over tomorrow.”
Dyoli blinked.
“This is new,” she said.
Mar Tyn sighed. “These conditions . . . I had said that my Gift was changing. If that is so, then our mutual Gift must also change.”
“Yes,” Dyoli said, and reached out to lay her fingertips across his lips. “I have my answer. Tomorrow, we will speak further of this, and—and discover a method by which we may assess these changes. Does that do well for you, my love, or will only a quarrel satisfy?”
Mar Tyn grasped her wrist lightly, moving her hand away as he stepped forward to encircle her waist with his free arm. She moved closer into the embrace, and shivered when he whispered in her ear.
“No quarrel. I have in mind something much more interesting.”
Æ
Tekelia had not returned by the time Lady Selph had called an end to their cuddle, and Padi had gone to her screen to review the master trader’s notes for tomorrow’s meetings.
Tekelia had still not returned. It was, Padi thought as she gathered up her robe and entered the ’fresher, rather a relief to find that there was something Tekelia was not able to do with ease and insouciance. She might have been worried that something dire had happened, save for the foolish conviction that she would know if Tekelia had fallen into trouble.
And there was an odd fancy, to be sure.
“Go to bed, Padi yos’Galan,” she told herself. “You have a very full day tomorrow.”
She stood under the shower’s gentle rain for a little longer than cleanliness demanded, and sighed when the water cut off, and the walls began to warm.
When she stepped back into her room a few minutes later, belting her robe around her, Tekelia was sitting on the floor by the window, next to a table Padi didn’t recognize.
On the table was a large, transparent enclosure. Padi glimpsed sand, green plants, a small waterfall, a sleeping platform surrounded by leafy plants. Lady Selph was sitting on the table outside of the enclosure, eating a slice of fresh fruit.
“That,” Padi said, coming forward to admire it more nearly, “is perfect.”
Tekelia looked up with a lazy smile.
“Lady Selph was gracious enough to be pleased. Though it did take longer than I had anticipated. My apologies.”
“Completely unnecessary,” Padi said. “It is understood that creating perfection takes time.”
“You’re too good to me.”
Tekelia turned back to Lady Selph, who had finished her treat, and was radiating sleepy contentment.
“Now, my lady, you must return to your nest, if you please. I know you remember how to do that.”
Lady Selph was seen to hesitate, then dropped to four feet, turned and walked through one panel, which Padi saw now was a clever door. When she was inside, Tekelia touched the side of the enclosure. The gate lowered and locked. Padi leaned closer, and Tekelia caught her hand, guiding her fingers to the pressure point.
“It will not open to her,” Tekelia said.
“Wisely done,” Padi said, watching the elderly norbear cross the sand to the sleeping platform and disappear behind the shielding leaves.
“I couldn’t have done half so well,” she added, putting her hand on Tekelia’s shoulder.
“I am pleased to be of service,” Tekelia said, looking up into her face, eyes at the moment grey and green.
“I’ll leave you soon to your rest and your early meetings. Will you take ease from me? I won’t be rough, only, as you know, I am not a Healer.”
Padi sighed, with a glance at the clock.
“I will gladly accept a friend’s kind assistance, but only if you may do so without depleting yourself.” She waved a hand. “This must have been expensive of energy.”
“It was, but I paused in my labors for a substantial snack, quite enough to see you settled and get myself home.”
It was on the edge of her tongue, to say that there was no need for Tekelia to leave, but the clock conspired with the early meetings to convince her otherwise.
She sighed, and went to the bed, slipped off her robe and got under the blanket.
Tekelia came and sat on the edge, taking her hand, and smiling down at her.
“A kiss,” Padi murmured, “before you go.”
“Another pleasure,” Tekelia said softly, and obliged her, gently.
Padi sighed when the kiss was done, nestling into the pillow as Tekelia put a hand on her forehead, and smiled.
“Sleep and rest well, Padi yos’Galan.”
Æ
She was winsome in sleep, Tekelia thought, drawing back and inspecting the work against the ambient. Satisfied that Padi would awaken rested and renewed, Tekelia sighed, rose, and went to Lady Selph’s new abode. That lady was also asleep, a comforter of dreams pulled tight around her.
Tekelia turned again to look at the long form slumbering under the blanket, then thought of the house at the edge of the wood, and the light from the Ribbons dancing over the deck.
Save for the two sleepers, the room was empty.