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Colemenoport

Wayfarer


The waterfall was a delicate little beauty. It had been built in a staircase design, and each of the three streams woke music in the stones.

Padi crossed the grass to the low wall, put the basket down, and leaned over to run her hand through the water, smiling at the flow of cool silk over her skin.

She looked up, seeing a glimpse of the port’s red sky through the interlocking branches of the surrounding tall shrubberies, or miniature trees.

Yes, she thought. This would do.

Straightening, she shook the water from her hand as she moved two steps forward of the wall.

“Tekelia,” she said.

Behind her, the water sang its pretty song. The grass rippled and the breeze stroked her cheek, wanton.

Mist swirled.

Tekelia smiled.

“Hello, Padi.”

“Hello, Tekelia. Thank you for coming to me.”

“Thank you for calling me. Is Captain Mendoza displeased?”

“Only curious, I think,” Padi said. “I appear to have leapt before looking, again. Truly, it’s becoming my defining trait. Now that I’ve leapt, however, I wonder if you might explain to me what it is we did.

“Did when?”

Padi laughed.

“There is that,” she acknowledged. “The specific inquiry was in regard to our exchange of ribbons last night.”

Arms out, she spun, snatching up the basket, and holding it aloft.

“I have wine, cold tea, cake, cheese, nuts, fruit, and cinnamon-fruit bread fresh from the oven. Will you share with me?”

“Gladly.” Tekelia looked ’round at the dusky little glade. “Shall I fetch a blanket?”

“There’s no need to exert yourself,” Padi said. “There’s a table, just along here, and a view that you will, perhaps, find interesting.”

“By all means, lead on,” Tekelia said, taking her arm.

* * *

“This is a view,” Tekelia allowed. They had left the basket on the table while they approached the edge of the roof. Padi stood sensibly on the ground, but Tekelia leapt lightly to the top of the wall.

“It might be Metlin’s sky, red and Ribbonless.”

“I was thinking that I preferred the Ribbons, too,” Padi said. “I came here first, thinking that I might see them.”

“No, you won’t see the Ribbons from inside Civilization,” Tekelia said softly. “Though, if you’re high enough, you can see the edge of the grid.”

Padi spun on her heel, looking about them. “How high?”

“Oh, the Wardian,” said Tekelia pointing off into the red distance. Padi leapt on the wall, bracing herself against one shoulder, and sighting along the line of Tekelia’s finger.

“The tallest building in Haven City,” Tekelia said.

“Is the roof accessible?” Padi wondered, and felt a ripple of amusement that wasn’t . . . quite hers, as the shoulder moved under her hand.

“It’s also the most secure building in Haven City,” Tekelia added.

“Well, then,” Padi said. “Perhaps not tonight.”

“I agree. This day has held enough excitement for both of us, I think?”

“It certainly has for me,” Padi said, dropping lightly from wall to grass. Tekelia landed beside her and they walked hand-in-hand to the table.

Padi opened the basket and laid out the little feast while Tekelia poured the wine.

When they were at last seated, leaning companionably against one another, Padi said, “If you please, Tekelia—what precisely did we accomplish in our exchange of ribbons?”

“We agreed to dance together,” Tekelia said promptly. “I see now that I ought to have stopped to make certain that you hadn’t only meant for the Ribbon Dance. It can be undone, but—”

“Priscilla said your link was an integral part of me, now,” Padi interrupted. “It was so marked to her Inner Eyes that at first she thought we were lifemates.” She met Tekelia’s eyes, and said sternly, “I recently had a lesson in what the undoing of such links may cost. I’m guessing that undoing a connection so intimate that Priscilla mistook it for a lifemating, would hurt one or both of us. I don’t willingly hurt you, my friend. I only wish to understand what we have between us.”

Relief—again, not quite her own emotion—washed through her.

“Does it strike you as . . . interesting, how quickly we became . . . as we are? Are you normally so easily attached?”

“As to that, I hardly know,” Padi said slowly. “Are you?”

“Historically? No. Though I do dance with others.”

Tekelia sipped wine and set the glass aside.

“Open your Eyes.”

That meant her Inner Eyes, once a proposition that made Padi acutely anxious, and might take several minutes to achieve.

She had found it a simple matter, at Tekelia’s house, to open her Inner Eyes, and more difficult, under the Grid. This time, however, it was effortless, and Padi wondered if it was a matter of practice showing profit, and if it would remain so easy when she was gone from Colemeno.

Do you go—soon? Tekelia asked, but not aloud. Padi turned on the bench to stare.

“I heard that inside my head!”

“Yes, of course,” Tekelia agreed, largely unsurprised. “We dance together. Now, look, do you See my pattern?”

It was impossible not to See Tekelia’s pattern. Padi took a deep breath, trying to make sense of a weaving rich with emotion, afire with color, as if Tekelia contained a Ribbon Dance at their core.

“Do you See the green-and-yellow ribbon?” Tekelia asked.

Padi made an effort—and gave a small gasp of surprise as the green-and-yellow ribbon became quite apparent, as if the act of Looking had brought it forward.

“I See it,” she said, and added, as certain of it as she was of her own name, “That is Geritsi.”

“So it is. Can you trace it?”

Padi could, and did, noting how supple the ribbon was, how it interwove with others of the threads and ribbons that made up the tapestry that was Tekelia.

“These other ribbons—you also dance with them?”

“Quick, Padi yos’Galan,” Tekelia said, approvingly. “Yes. Now, if you will find your own ribbon that you gave to me . . . ”

It was no sooner said than she had it, boiling with an energy that was rather embarrassing, after the cool order of Geritsi’s connection.

“Trace it,” Tekelia murmured, but Padi’s Inner Eye had already followed the lavender ribbon from the misty edges of Tekelia’s tapestry to the very center, where it plunged into the heart of the weaving—and vanished.

“We are an impetuous family,” Padi said, resignedly. “I think I did say so.”

“And I told you that the Haosa love danger.”

“We were both fairly warned.”

“Look now to your pattern, if you will, and find the ribbon I gave to you . . . ”

It was like . . . blinking, Padi thought. Tekelia’s pattern faded, and the small bold weaving she had been shown by Lady Selph rose before her Inner Eyes.

Only—it was not so small. Rather, it was misty at the edges, very like Tekelia’s pattern, and if it was less dense, the connections she did have were steadfast and tightly woven.

The crimson ribbon rose to her attention, and she followed it until it plunged into the core of her pattern, and disappeared. Into her essential self.

“The other ribbons are part of a network,” she said slowly. “The ribbons we share are—”

She paused, groping for the concept—

“They are dedicated,” she finished. “But what do they do?”

“An excellent question!” Tekelia said gaily. “I have no idea. I do agree with Captain Mendoza, that this is no lifemating—we do not make a third complete pattern between us. We are intimately connected, and complimentary, but beyond that, I know nothing more than—we dance.”

“We dance,” she murmured, “with each other.”

“Yes,” Tekelia said, and Padi felt a light touch against her cheek. “You should withdraw now, and eat. Here—”

She closed her Inner Eyes. Before her on the table, mundane sight showed her a plate filled with really too much cheese, a slice of the still-warm bread, nuts, and—a slice of cake.

“Thank you,” she said, picking up a piece of cheese.

“No one wants an incident.” Tekelia took a slice of cake from the tin.

“I believe I have not told you that my Aunt Asta has retired from her duty, and come to live in Ribbon Dance Village,” Tekelia said. “She is staying with me for a day or two, until a suitable cottage is found.”

“That happened today?”

“It did.” Tekelia smiled. “It has been a full day, now that I think of it.”

Padi sighed, and took up the slice of bread.

“I felt that you also had some tumult in your day,” Tekelia said delicately, reaching for the bottle and refreshing their wineglasses.

“Does that disturb you? To . . . feel . . . me?”

“Not at all,” Tekelia said, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “It’s an honor to dance with you, Padi yos’Galan.” The whisper put warm breath against her ear, and Padi shivered.

“I only wonder what made your day unsettled,” Tekelia asked, sitting back. “If you would care to tell me.”

“Well. Father and Priscilla have decided to return to Dutiful Passage for medical examinations. I am therefore thrust forward as head of the trade mission, and director of the whole port inventory. That was—unexpected, and, truth told, I am still waiting for them to say that it was only a test.”

“Maybe it is,” Tekelia said.

“Oh, there’s no doubt there! Only, I feel that they are quite serious about returning to the ship.”

She paused for a sip of wine, and broke off a corner of cake.

“I spoke with Lady Selph, who is eager to interview Eet, and to deepen her connection with you. Also, I built your search and set it running. You should be warned that Father tells me you will be an elder before you finish sorting the results. Norbears, it turns out, are difficult.”

Tekelia laughed.

“Yes—wholly surprising,” Padi agreed.

You should know,” Tekelia said, “that my Aunt Asta wishes to meet you—Bentamin told her that I have a lover, and she’s delighted. She also offers to Sort you, if you wish it.”

Padi looked at her empty plate in puzzlement. Surely, she hadn’t eaten all of that food? She picked up her wineglass, and looked to Tekelia.

“It’s a very kind offer. If she does not find me too bright, or too stupid, I would welcome her Sorting.”

“I’ll tell her so,” Tekelia said, glancing up at the sky—then laughing softly.

“No Ribbons to help me know the age of the night.” The comment was rueful.

“I expect it’s late,” Padi said, rueful in turn. “I have early business, of course, and ought to retire. Will you stay?”

Tekelia sighed.

“I should like nothing better, but I should make sure that Aunt Asta hasn’t done anything—rash.”

Padi lifted her eyebrows.

“Is she prone?”

“She has until very recently lived both on-Grid and under the constraints of the Wardian. Today was the first time she’s been off-Grid, and while hers is a Wild Talent—”

“Yes, you had best make certain that she hasn’t fallen into a scrape,” Padi said.

She rose, and together they repacked the basket.

Standing side by side at the edge of the roof, they looked out over the port and finished the last of the wine.

Tekelia sent the empty glasses back to the table, and turned to Padi, putting warm, firm hands on her shoulder.

“Until soon.”

“Until soon.” Padi leaned close to bestow her kiss.

Tekelia stepped back, Padi feeling reluctance that this time seemed to echo her own.

Mist swirled and she was alone on the roof, shivering in a breeze suddenly gone cold.

* * *

Sometime later, as she lay in bed, Padi closed her eyes, feeling Tekelia’s warm glow at the center of her.

Chiat’a bei kruzon, she thought.

Dream sweetly, Tekelia answered.

Padi was still smiling when sleep took her.


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