They both nodded at that.
“And what have you decided about Grant?” Sutter asked, treading lightly.
Tahn did not immediately reply. “There’s a lot to think about.”
Sutter nodded at that, too. “I don’t know. He’s just so full of fun and love. You know, if the exile career doesn’t work out, maybe we could put in a word for him at the tenendra. I hear they have a few empty cages to fill.”
They went back and forth for some time, their jests and laughter resounding in the room, and pealing through their open window toward the moon.
When they had calmed down, and Tahn was starting to feel sleepy, he turned his head on his pillow. “Thanks for not letting me come alone, Nails.”
Sutter shifted in his bed and returned Tahn’s grateful look. “And thanks to you, Woodchuck. You got me out of the fields.…”
“Well, you may thank me the day we dine on that duck and plum brandy. Until then, simply call me … master.”
Sutter sat up and bowed his head in jest. “Especially now that you’ve passed your Standing, right?”
“Of course, boy,” Tahn said in a kingly tone.
“Woodchuck, that might have worked out fine, but it is common knowledge that a master’s generosity springs from his loins. And when we shared a room tonight for our baths, I noticed that despite what you might have hoped, in that regard the Change hasn’t been terribly kind to you, has it?”
Again their laughter rose, even louder this time, so that they almost feared a knock on the door to calm them as they’d often heard during their childhood when sharing a night together at home. Forgotten were Sutter’s greatsword and Tahn’s new bow.
* * *
Down the hall, Vendanj sat up, quietly placing a sprig of herb on his tongue. With the sodalist fast asleep, the Sheason reflected on the brightness of the moon and listened to the laughter echoing from a few doors away. His first thought was to quiet them, afraid their noise would draw undue attention from the sober-minded Far, and perhaps any Quiet that took to the air. But easing into his pillows, he let them alone. If they could find even small joys here and now, then perhaps there remained hope for them all. Perhaps it was that one quality that most suited them to this endeavor, perhaps the very thing that gave Tahn success at Tillinghast, restoring to him a greater measure of light than of darkness. With that thought, Vendanj nodded silently to himself. “You are the one, Tahn. Given life out of death, so may you do for the family of man.”
With their laughter in his ears, Vendanj drifted to sleep with belief ever more alive in his heart.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Peter Orullian has worked in marketing at Xbox for nearly a decade, most recently leading the music and entertainment marketing strategy for Xbox LIVE, and has toured internationally as a featured vocalist at major music festivals. He has published several short stories. The Unremembered is his first novel. He lives in Seattle. Visit him at www.orullian.com.
TOR BOOKS BY PETER ORULLIAN
The Unremembered
The Vault of Heaven, Volume 2 (forthcoming)
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE UNREMEMBERED
Copyright © 2011 by Peter Orullian
All rights reserved.
Edited by James Frenkel
A Tor® eBook
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
ISBN 978-0-7653-2571-6
First Edition: April 2011
eISBN 978-1-4299-6086-1
First Tor eBook Edition: April 2011
For more information about THE VAULT OF HEAVEN—stories, glossary, maps, interviews, art, video, and more—visit www.orullian.com.
The Unremembered: Book One of The Vault of Heaven Page 95