Off-Grid
The Rose Cottage
Cookies and tea had been arranged on a table at the foot of the garden. It was a pleasant place, surrounded by flowers, in the shade of a large and comfortable tree.
It was also rather pointedly not in Geritsi slentAlin’s house, though they were under her eye, as she continued her work in the garden—Guardian Number One, Bentamin thought, amused.
Dosent the sokyum was stretched out by the flowers, seemingly asleep—Guardian Number Two.
“Will you have tea, Warden Bentamin?” Vaiza asked, which was his place, as the youngest at the table.
“Thank you, Vaiza, I would like tea,” Bentamin said politely.
The boy stood, hefted the teapot, and poured with a remarkably steady hand. Torin passed the full cup across the table.
“Please, help yourself to cookies,” she said, and Bentamin moved a sugar cookie from the center plate to his smaller one, and waited politely while Vaiza poured tea for his sister, then for himself.
He had put the pot down, but not yet reseated himself, when there came a small, intense disturbance in the branches overhead.
Bentamin looked up as a portly, grey-striped body thumped to the tabletop by Torin’s hand.
“Eet!” Vaiza exclaimed, and Bentamin bent his head to hide a smile.
Guardian Number Three had arrived.
* * *
Eet accepted a cookie, and sat quietly munching while Bentamin made gentle inquiries into Vaiza and Torin’s situation.
They both assured him, with differing degrees of enthusiasm, that they were very well at the Rose Cottage, that Geritsi and Dosent were everything that was kind, that they had no lack of people to talk with or visit, though there were no other children in the village at the moment.
“Tanin is going to teach me how to make bread,” Torin reported, with the most eagerness she had so far displayed.
“A useful skill,” Bentamin agreed, sipping his tea. “And school?”
“Tekelia took that to the village meeting for us,” Torin said. “For now, Maradel has been giving us placement tests, so the correct courses can be ordered in.”
“We are going to stay here, aren’t we, Warden Bentamin?” Vaiza asked sharply, as if suddenly understanding where this line of questioning might lead. “We won’t be going back into the city, will we?”
Eet put what remained of his cookie down on the table, and settled himself firmly on his haunches. Bentamin met a pair of beady black eyes, and turned to Vaiza.
“Would it be so bad, to go back to the city?” he asked.
Torin bit her lip. Vaiza glanced at her and frowned.
“The city isn’t safe,” he said at last. “Mother said so. We were going to leave, we had our things in cases, and were waiting in our room for the car to arrive. But then . . . ”
His voice faded out, and it was Torin who said, “But Cousin Jorey killed Mother. And Cousin Avryal said we were abominations. And then we were sent to the Haosa.”
Bentamin looked from one to the other, seeing solemn faces, and he dared open his Inner Eyes far enough to see—
The ambient was glitter blown on the wind, distracting, but proximity helped. He saw two patterns, each unique, and then, quite distinct, a third, overlying pattern, anchored in each.
Light flashed, and his Sight fragmented into chaos. With a quiet sigh, he pulled his shields close, and looked back to the children.
“As you guessed,” he told them, “my visit has a purpose. I will be engaging a Healer to examine you both in order to be certain that you are quite well.”
Vaiza frowned, and glanced at his sister.
“We are very well here, Warden Bentamin,” he said, repeating their earlier assurance.
“We are well enough here,” Torin corrected, and it did not escape Bentamin’s attention that Dosent the sokyum stretched lazily in her bed among the flowers, and sat up to wash her face. “I—feel different here than I did in the city. There is too much—” She stopped sharply, and flung her hands into the air, as if showing him the Ribbons that were only barely visible in the bright morning sky.
“There is too much,” she finished, and looked down at the table.
“Am I not helping you enough?” her brother asked, leaning close. “Torin. Tell me what else I should do.”
She reached out and put her hand over his. “You are helping me,” she said firmly, and raised her head to look at Bentamin.
“Mother told us that we were to help each other. In the city, I helped Vaiza with his lessons and his forms. Here, he helps me.”
There was a flicker in the air between them, as a face barely seen. The norbear, Bentamin realized, had entered the conversation.
“Mother,” Vaiza said, looking at Eet. “Mother would be proud of us both.”
“She would,” Bentamin said firmly. “You are strong and courageous. But even the strong and courageous sometimes take wounds—” He thought suddenly of Master Trader yos’Galan.
There was a long pause, before Torin spoke.
“The Healer—would she come here?”
“When it is time, some one or two of the Haosa will bring you to Peck’s Market. I will bring the Healer there to meet you.”
“Will Tekelia bring us?” Vaiza asked.
“You may ask and see if Tekelia is able to escort you,” Bentamin said.
“When?” asked Torin.
“First, I must find the best Healer available. I wanted to speak with you before I went further. Do I understand that you are not opposed to an examination?”
Vaiza looked at Torin; Torin look at Vaiza.
“We are not opposed,” Torin said, “as long as Tekelia or Geritsi and Dosent, and Eet, will be with us.”
Bentamin inclined his head. “I will make that a provision of the meeting. As soon as I have the Healer’s agreement, I will inform Medic arnFaelir, so that arrangements can be made. Is that well for you?”
Another solemn exchange of glances before Torin inclined her head. “Yes, Warden Bentamin. Thank you for your care.”
“It is nothing less than my duty,” Bentamin told them. “Now, if you will hold me excused, I would like to have a private word with Eet.”