“She— She—” Miss Vivian looked at Oh’Dar.
“The school, remember?” he answered. “There are quite a few of our offspring who will be able to talk to you and are anxious to meet you.”
She looked at the little female, who glanced back at her parents. The mother nodded, and the offspring took a step forward with her arms out, offering a hug.
Miss Vivian opened her arms in an embrace and rested her head against the offspring’s hair, which smelled of pine and sage.
“What’s your name?” Miss Vivian asked, releasing her from the embrace.
“Nasha,” the offspring answered.
“I’m happy to meet you, Nasha.”
“There is hope in me to much talk with you,” said Nasha.
“The sentence structure is different,” explained Oh’Dar, “but she’s making great progress.”
Scampering back to her mother’s embrace, Nasha’s face lit up with a huge smile as she told her parents what she had said.
Ben moved closer to Miss Vivian and asked her if she was alright now. She nodded, smiled, and apologized to Mapiya and Honovi.
Adia and Acaraho had walked in at the end of the drama and stood waiting for it to conclude.
Adia said to Acaraho, “I thought they needed several days’ rest. Now I am wondering if perhaps what they really need is to find some purpose here. Perhaps tomorrow, Oh’Dar should introduce Miss Vivian to his students. Just for part of the day. And for Ben, a tour of the rest of Kthama and perhaps a conversation about the Wall of Records.”
“It is too soon to take him to Kht’shWea; they are not ready to meet the Sarnonn,” Acaraho answered.
“No, I agree. But perhaps the thought of it will occupy Ben’s mind and help him start feeling he can contribute.”
“You are right. Oh’Dar could never compete with his peers on any physical level, and as an adult, he is still not able to make the same contribution to the community as the other males. It is just like that for Oh’Dar’s grandparents. Each of us needs a place from which we can give of ourselves.”
When Miss Vivian’s smile returned, they approached the group and greeted each of them.
“In the future,” said Acaraho, “You will be welcome at our table—once you are more accustomed to the activity here and ready to join us at the regular mealtime.”
Then Adia addressed Oh’Dar. “Please may we speak with you?” After excusing themselves, the three of them stepped away.
Acaraho explained what he and Adia had just discussed.
Oh’Dar expressed his agreement with their plan before adding, “I have not had a moment alone with you. So much happened on the way here, but most urgently, I must tell you there is another community of Sarnonn living in the area of Shadow Ridge.”
Acaraho frowned hard, “What?”
“Yes. It is such a long story, and it involves the Mothoc Guardian, Pan.”
Adia said, “We must hear this. Alone somewhere.” With Handspeak, she explained to Honovi that they needed to leave for a while. Honovi signed back that she would take care of Ben and Miss Vivian until they returned. The couple watched them signaling back and forth to each other and waited patiently for Honovi’s explanation.
In one of the chambers that had long ago been turned into a meeting room, Oh’Dar relayed what had happened at Shadow Ridge and how he had met Notar at the Masons’ farm. He told them Notar’s story about Pan coming twice to their community. Then, and once decades previously. He told them that Notar’s appearance was the event that had sparked Mrs. Mason to make the stuffed toy that was with Oh’Dar when Adia rescued him.
When he was done speaking, both Adia and Acaraho remained silent for a moment.
Acaraho spoke first. “Haan must be told. Do you have any idea how large Notar’s group is?”
Oh’Dar shook his head. “Nor would he tell me how to make contact again.”
“Still, the fact that another Sarnonn community exists provides hope. As soon as possible, Oh’Dar, I need you to come with me to Kht’shWea to tell Haan this. ”
“Of course. But first, tomorrow I will take my grandmother to meet the school children. I agree that we need to get them both established and engaged in something.”
The next morning, Oh’Dar took Miss Vivian to the schoolroom. Mapiya had spread the word that school would be reconvening that day. Oh’Dar stood with Miss Vivian as they watched the offspring file in and take their seats.
“The children don’t look that much different,” she said. “Just larger than their true age, I imagine?”
“Yes. The clothing some of the offspring wear makes them look foreign to you, but if they were dressed in Waschini—dressed as we—” Oh’Dar struggled to find the words.
“Yes,” she said and patted his arm.
When all had taken their places, Oh’Dar introduced his grandmother to the offspring.
“We are glad to the meet make of you Miss the Miss Vivian,” said one of the smaller females from the front row.
Others echoed her sentiment. At the back was little Nasha, the female who had come to comfort Miss Vivian the night before.
Miss Vivian smiled at her and gave a little wave, though she did not know if it was a gesture they used.
“Miss Vivian is going to be working with you, too. Perhaps not every time, but often. This morning we are going to learn different names for common items we use.”
Oh’Dar showed his grandmother where to sit and then went to the front wall, which had been fitted with slate. He picked up a rough piece of chalk and started to draw trees, animals, baskets, flowers. He named them in the People’s language, then named them in Whitespeak. As she watched and listened, Miss Vivian repeated some of the words as best she could, trying to learn for herself.
When they had finished for the morning, many of the offspring came up to speak to her directly. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to slip down her cheeks. This is just what I needed. Grayson is so smart. I see now that Ben and I will be left out of the general conversation less and less as more of them learn our language—and as we learn theirs.
After the offspring had left, she inspected the chalk drawings.
“Could I learn to speak their—your—language?” she asked.
“I don’t know why not,” said Oh’Dar. “But it might be helpful to start with learning Handspeak. That’s how Honovi taught me as a child, combining Handspeak with English.”
“What do I call the language they speak?” she asked.
Oh’Dar pondered for a moment. “How about Akassan?” he suggested. “That’s what the People are called by the Sarnonn. The Akassa.”
“Akassa,” she repeated. “And that Sarnonn fellow we met—when will we meet the others?”
Oh’Dar laughed, “I thought you might need some time before you met them.”
“Well,” she laughed, “I probably do. But I’m not so sure about Ben. I think he’s raring to jump into all of this.”
“I’ll let my father know—” Oh’Dar stopped, embarrassed.
Miss Vivian put her arm around him. “You don’t have to worry about offending me, Grayson,” she explained. “I know that in every way that matters, Adia is your mother, and Acaraho is your father. Let’s speak freely with each other and not worry about saying something insensitive. I know you love Ben and me, and I also know that these people here are your family, too. More so than we are. It does not hurt our feelings to acknowledge that.”
Oh’Dar hugged his grandmother. “I’ll have to leave before too long. I need to travel back to pick up some supplies I ordered at Wilde Edge. Paper, quills, ink, and some other items. I won’t go until you’re comfortable here without me, but I do need to go before the truly harsh weather sets in.”
“Maybe you can ask one of your most advanced students to help us translate?” she asked.
“Honovi will have to return to the village at some point, so yes, that’s a good idea; I’ll give it some thought.”
As they finished their con
versation, Mapiya came to tell Oh’Dar that his father was waiting to speak to Haan. Oh’Dar asked her to find someone to show Miss Vivian back to her quarters and went to find his father.
Acaraho was in the Great Entrance, along with his Circle of Counsel.
Haan had just arrived. He had assembled his own Circle of Counsel, and together they all went to a meeting room.
Haan introduced each of his group; his mate, Haaka, as Third Rank, Artadel, the Healer, as Second Rank, High Protector Qirrik, and Sastak, who represented the females. He had also included both Lellaach and Thord, the paired Leaders of the Sarnonn Guardians.
Acaraho did the same; introducing Adia, Healer and Second Rank, Mapiya, the spokesperson for the females, High Protector Awan, Nadiwani, Oh’Dar, and Thetis, whom Awan had selected to be First Guard.
Oh’Dar recognized Thetis as the guard who had gone with Acaraho the first time they used Kweeuu to track Tehya and rescue her from Akar’Tor. He had also been present when Khon’Tor nearly killed himself with the Waschini knife.
All eyes were on Oh’Dar as he told the story of meeting Notar and what the Sarnonn had said about Pan’s messages.
“How are we to find them,” Haaka pondered aloud.
“I suspect that when the time is right, they will find us,” said Haan. “If the Guardian Pan has ordered Notar’s steps through the decades, there is no reason to doubt she will manage to let him find us at the appointed time.”
Adia spoke next. “Pan is to train the Sarnonn Guardians as well as An’Kru. Yet has anyone seen her walking Etera?”
“We have met with her,” said Thord. “But not on Etera. You know the place, Healer, it is what you call the Corridor.”
All eyes turned to Adia. “The Corridor is another reality. It is a place that both Urilla Wuti and I have visited many times. It is from these visits that we bring back the information we share.” She turned to Thord, “Is she training you there?”
“For now,” replied Lellaach. “Later, our training will take place on Etera.”
Before changing the subject, Acaraho glanced at his mate to be sure she was finished. “Haan, as I said might happen, Oh’Dar’s Waschini grandparents have come to Kthama. His grandmother will be helping teach Whitespeak to our offspring. His grandfather has an understanding of bloodlines, and we will be asking him to work with the researchers once he is comfortable here.”
“If he does not know our language,” asked Artadel, “how can he help with bloodline research?”
Oh’Dar looked at his father for permission to answer. “He will learn it in time. But until then, he can look for patterns. The markings are symbols, after all. I believe he will be able to help.”
Oh’Dar went on further to let them know of the Waschini riders who had accosted Pajackok and Snana and made some threat about taking the land.
Acaraho ended the meeting by saying that he would be sending a message to the People’s Overseer asking to address the next High Council meeting to relay this same information to them.
When they returned to Kthama, Oh’Dar and his parents went to find Ben and Miss Vivian. They were with Honovi in the Healer’s Quarters.
Both grandparents looked up as the three entered.
Honovi said, “I am teaching them some Handspeak. They are quick students.”
Acaraho asked Honovi to translate for him. “When you are ready, Ben, we will ask for your help in trying to navigate the challenges of our bloodlines. It will be some time before you can discuss this with our researchers, as you will need to learn our language to do so. But we look forward to any help you can give us before then.”
Having been through the Great Chamber earlier and noticed more people there, Ben said, “It seems that your women outnumber your men?”
“Yes,” Acaraho said as Honovi continued to translate, “At present, that is true. A contagion came through some time ago, and we lost many of our males. So our need is even more urgent. Our researchers have reported that if we do not find a way to introduce new bloodlines, we will become extinct in seven generations.”
“Extinct?” Ben looked at Oh’Dar.
“To the point that breeding will produce deformities and handicaps. So rather than do that to the offspring, the People will choose instead to die out.”
Ben thought for a moment, “Why are the Brothers not experiencing this?”
Honovi explained, “We are a small community, but our people do not usually take partners from our village. It does sometimes happen, as with my daughter Snana, but we have many more communities and far greater numbers than the People do. We meet with other villages and find partners—in that way, we do much as the People have done for centuries through the Ashwea Awhidi.”
“The Ashwea Awhidi is the People’s pairing ceremony,” Adia explained. “When someone of age asks to be paired, the researchers check the bloodlines to find a good match. Occasionally, a couple from the same community will fall in love. That pairing also has to be blessed by the researchers before it can take place. However, it does not happen too often, as our offspring are taught about the importance of pairing outside of their own community.”
Ben nodded. “You’re all a great help to us, thank you,” he said to Honovi.
This time, Oh’Dar translated as Adia said, “Acaraho and I must travel before too long to another community to attend a High Council meeting.”
Oh’Dar sighed. “And I need to return to Wilde Edge to pick up some things. I don’t want to leave, but I’m concerned about the harsh weather that’s about to begin in earnest.”
“I can stay at Kthama for a little while, Oh’Dar, if you must leave now,” Honovi said, “but I must return home before too long.”
“You should go soon,” said Adia. “The weather will be turning harsh.”
Miss Vivian spoke up, “Please go. Please don’t cause yourself travel problems. We’ll be fine here. Even if Honovi has to return to the village, Nasha can communicate with us fairly well. We’ll get by.”
“It will be a while before I can get back,” Oh’Dar said. “And as you know, you can only very rarely return to the village—it’s just not wise. We took care to stage your deaths so people wouldn’t ask after you, and with the Waschini riders coming through, you could be spotted and cause questions to be raised.”
“We understand, son,” Ben said. “We’ll be fine. Truly.”
Chapter 6
It was some time since Newell Storgis had received the letter from young Mr. Morgan asking him to intervene with the bank in Wilde Edge that was threatening foreclosure on Matthew Webb’s homestead. He knew enough of the story to understand Mr. Morgan’s connection with these people and had no problem writing to the bank and taking care of the Webbs’ debt. But something lingered, which he couldn’t shake.
Despite the Sheriff’s assurance that everything about the death of the young man’s grandparents was on the level, he couldn’t get out of his mind how they’d died.
He looked around his office at the dwindling stack of work to be done. The town wasn’t the same without Miss Vivian. Shadow Ridge went on under the ownership of Mrs. Ermadine Thomas, who was content simply to keep the place going and wasn’t involved in business dealings as the Morgans had been. Storgis had since been there several times to finish up some final paperwork but always refused to look in the direction of the stables where Miss Vivian and her husband were killed by Rebel. Rebel, who still hadn’t been found, even though posters were put up and the usual gossip had carried the story far and wide. A horse like that was virtually priceless.
Storgis’ last visit had been so depressing that he now vowed never to return unless absolutely necessary.
It was the first Grayson Stone Morgan who had given Storgis his start by taking the young lawyer under his wing. Over the years, the Morgans became the primary client of his business. When Mr. Morgan senior passed, Miss Vivian had ensured that Storgis kept their business, so losing the connection with the Morgans was a blow as much emotionall
y as financially.
He turned down the gas light that was illuminating the office and casting shadows on the walls. Everything reflected his mood. Somber, grey, empty.
He locked the front door behind him and made his way to the room he rented over one of the local Millgrove establishments. Alone in the world, with no wife or children, and having lost his connection with Miss Vivian, he saw nothing ahead for him but the eventual decline of his business.
I need a change of scenery. I need to get out of this town for a while, clear my head.
By the time he’d closed the door of his room behind him and hung up his coat and hat, he knew what he was going to do.
Mrs. Webb and Grace were putting the bread in the oven when they heard a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Mrs. Webb asked aloud as she wiped her hands on a cotton towel and brushed off the front of her smock.
Grace followed as her mother went to the door and opened it. Outside stood a decent-looking man with strong features, dressed in big city finery. Mrs. Webb’s eyes dropped to the large leather bag he was holding at his side.
“Are you Mrs. Matthew Webb?” he asked?
“Why, yes. What can I do for you?”
“My name is Newell Storgis. I was Miss Vivian’s—Mrs. Jenkins’—lawyer, and I was hired by young Mr. Morgan to take care of some business with the Wilde Edge bank.”
Mrs. Webb looked at Grace, “Please go and find your father.”
Grace headed for the door, and Storgis apologized and stepped out of the way.
“Come in, please.” Mrs. Webb led the lawyer into the sitting room and showed him to the best chair.
A few moments later, Grace returned with her father.
“I’m Matthew Webb,” he said as he held his hand out to Storgis. “What’s this about? My daughter tells me you’re the Morgans’ lawyer.”
Storgis leaned over and opened the brown leather case he’d brought with him. He pulled out some papers for Mr. Webb and snapped the top shut.
The Edge of Hope: Wrak-Ayya: The Age of Shadows Book Eleven Page 9