Until the Celebration

by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  Among the petitioners whom Genaa had seen that morning had been a Kindar carpenter whose trencher knives and chisels had been replaced by Erdling tools— and he was certain that the tools were cursed. Their very efficiency—the sharp bite that shaped the wood with such enchanted swiftness—was proof, to him, of their accursedness. Twice already, they had caused him small injuries. They were, he was certain, only waiting for the right moment to take his life.

  There had been, also, two Kindar bond-pairs whose nid-places were in the farheights, near some of the first Erdling height-dwellers. They were afraid that they were being poisoned by the smoke that came from the Erdling hearthfires and of the effect of the rough and tempestuous Erdling children on their own children’s peacefulness and Joy. They were even terrified, although they hesitated to say so, for the lives of their pets and their children at the hands of the flesh-eaters, who were now their neighbors.

  But the most troubling of all, twice that morning, Kindar had been brought before the Senate who were far gone in Berry-dreaming and clearly not suffering from the effects of the Wissenberry alone. Genaa had been horrified to learn that they had eaten the fruit of the pavo-vine. Growing only in the farheights, this parasitic plant produced a small green berry that was capable of causing extreme hallucinations and was quickly and incurably addictive. Eaten regularly, it soon brought about a dream state from which there was no awakening. For generations the use of the pavo-berry had been forbidden and almost unheard of in Green-sky. But now, since the withering of the Root, the Wissenberry seemed to be gradually losing its milder dream-inducing power, and there were those who were turning to the deadly fruit of the pavo-vine.

  All morning Genaa had searched for answers to difficult questions, and when midday had arrived, bringing a free half-day, she had returned to her nid-chamber determined to spend the free hours in rest. And now, a new and even more frightening problem had arisen and, as a member of the Council, she would have to go to the emergency meeting to search for a solution. Genaa sighed again and rose wearily from her nid. She put on the shuba she had so recently removed and then stood limply, head drooping, while Neric helped her with the wing-panels, tying the fastenings tightly at wrist and ankle.

  Neric regarded her anxiously. “Wouldn’t you like to rest a little longer?” he asked. “There is still time before the meeting.”

  Genaa shook her head. “It would be useless. I couldn’t rest now.”

  Reaching out, Neric pulled her to him caressingly, thinking to comfort her with the ritual of close communion, but she pushed him away.

  “This is not the time for Love-rituals,” she said. “How could we comfort each other, knowing what has happened to poor Wassou—and what has happened to the Rejoyning.”

  Turning away she walked to the window and stood looking out into the soft green of the forest.

  “What has happened?” she asked again. “Will it fail, the Rejoyning?”

  Neric went to stand beside her at the window, but he did not try to answer.

  “We were all so sure,” Genaa said. “So sure that when the truth was told and the Erdlings free, evil would be conquered, and all would be as it was in the early days. Were we wrong? Would it have been better to leave things as they were?”

  “I don’t know,” Neric said. “I have wondered, too, at times.”

  “Raamo,” Genaa said suddenly. “I can’t bear to think what this will do to Raamo. He has been so troubled lately—and now this.”

  “Where is Raamo?” Neric asked. “At the Vine Palace again?”

  “Yes. With the children. He goes there every day to see if they are well.”

  “I know,” Neric said. “He is seldom here at the youth hall. It has been several days since I have spoken with him.” Neric smiled ruefully. “And there are few enough here whom I may speak to. Who would have thought that life in a youth hall could be so lonely. I wonder what they think of us, Genaa, that they leave us so much alone.”

  They both stood quietly a moment, trying to understand what had happened to them. In their presence the young Kindar seemed at times to be both intrigued and embarrassed, awed and suspicious, worshipful and resentful. It was obvious that in their minds Neric and Genaa were still Ol-zhaan, as well as Rejoyners and members of the Joined Council, and as such, impossible to accept into the warm and easy bonds of youth hall life. Their presence in common room or food-taking chamber invariably signaled the end of games and dances and a hushing of laughter and conversation. In all the time since their arrival in the hall, there had been only two exceptions to this rule of exclusion—and they had been exceptional indeed. The two had been the Erdlings, the first and, as yet, the only Erdlings to take up residence in a Kindar youth hall.

  These Erdling hall-dwellers were Sard, at twenty-one only a little older than Neric himself, and Mawno, perhaps a year younger. Only two months before, when they had first arrived at the Stargrund Youth Hall, they had regarded the former Ol-zhaan with even more suspicion and hostility than did the Kindar. But in a remarkably short time, the attitude of the Erdlings had changed to warm and open acceptance. Neric was not sure why.

  Perhaps it was in the Erdling nature, with their unpatterned and informal relationships, to be able to make such sudden and seemingly complete changes. There was also the fact that the Erdlings had found their Kindar hall-mates extremely resistant to their offers of friendship. And that, too, might have encouraged the Erdlings to resort more quickly to friendship with former Ol-zhaan.

  Sard and Mawno were true Erdlings, and the friendship had been enlightening, if not always comfortable. They were, Neric thought, like a pair of treebears, playful and charming and yet uncomfortably unpredictable. Sturdy and golden in appearance, boisterous and abrupt in manner, they seemed to Neric to be entirely typical products of Erdling culture. And yet they claimed to be just the opposite—daring and unconventional explorers and innovators. The very fact of their presence in the Kindar youth hall proved, they said, that they were rebels.

  “My parents won’t tell anyone where I’m living,” Mawno said once. “They haven’t even told the rest of our clan.”

  “Why not?” Genaa had asked.

  “They say I’ve disgraced them.”

  Mawno was lying, sprawled like a sima, on the floor of Neric’s chamber, his long hair and swarthy golden skin contrasting strangely with the elegance of the elaborately embroidered shuba he was wearing. He would have looked much more natural, Neric had thought, in the tight-fitting fur of his native costume.

  The conversation had taken place only a few days before, on the afternoon of a full free day. Raamo had been there, briefly, and he and Genaa, along with the two Erdlings, had gathered in Neric’s chamber to relax and entertain themselves as best they could. Not far away, in the large common room, there was singing and laughter, which they knew would cease abruptly if any one of them appeared.

  “Disgraced?” Genaa had asked. “What have you done that is disgraceful?”

  “Nothing,” Mawno said smiling. “It is simply that I have chosen to live in a youth hall. My family, like most Erdlings, does not approve of allowing young people to leave their home caverns until they are old enough to choose bond-partners. And there are forbiddances against some of your rituals—except to the bonded.”

  Mawno had lowered his eyes as he spoke and his face flushed, as if someone had used a term of extreme unjoyfulness in a public place.

  “I know,” Neric had said. “Those of us who were assigned to the Erdling Senates were instructed on such matters. There are many such strange taboos and forbiddances in Erda. They became necessary, I think, because of insufficient training in Peace and Joy. When the strong emotions of communion are not properly trained and patterned, they can lead to danger—and to the necessity for strange taboos.”

  “I disagree.” It was Sard who spoke. During most of the discussion he had been pacing around the room, but now he stopped before Neric and stared down at him. Tall and fine-boned, with a mind tha
t cut like an Erdling knife, he could almost have passed for a Kindar, except for his lack of graces. His blunt, unmannered denial was typical, Neric thought. “Our taboos grew out of our lack of access to the ingredients necessary to the production of youth-wafers. Where food and living space is limited, as it has been in Erda, and the means to produce contraceptives is lacking, youth halls would, indeed, be dangerous. Like all taboos, ours grew out of practical necessity, and only much later began to be related to such impractical matters as good and evil. But whatever their origin, our taboos are no more strange to you than your everlasting rituals and ceremonies are to us.”

  Turning suddenly towards Raamo, Sard’s face underwent another of its completely unpredictable changes. Smiling, he said, “Don’t be concerned little Ol-zhaan. I am not unjoyful towards your comrade. It is only that I cannot resist matching my dull Erdling wits with your learned friend.”

  “Dull, indeed,” Genaa had said laughing. “Your Erdling wits are as sharp as your Erdling steel, and I think you know it very well.”

  Sard looked at Genaa and there was something in his gaze that made Neric think of the red glow of Erdling hearth-fire. “Well,” Sard had said softly, “if my wits are like Erdling steel, yours are like a Kindar raindrop in the sunshine—clear and dazzling.” He stared at Genaa for a long moment and when he spoke again the red glow was in his voice as well. “Who would have thought an Ol-zhaan could be so lovely.”

  The discussion had left Neric with a strange confusion of feelings, feelings that he found to be unnameable and, for the most part, not particularly joyful. Remembering only added to his present state of unjoyfulness. Dropping his head into his hands, he sat for a long time in a decidedly un-Kindarlike attitude of dejection. He did not lift his head until he felt Genaa’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Come,” she said wearily, “we must help decide what must be done about the Nekom.”

  Chapter Six

  WHEN GENOA AND NERIC left the youth hall, they made their way along the public branchpaths, through the heart of the city, to the great public assembly hall of Orbora. Although it had long ago been decided that the permanent quarters of the Joined Council would be in the Temple Grove in the meeting chamber of the Ol-zhaan, they had not, as yet, made the move. Nearly all of the Council members were in favor of the change. It was agreed that it was only fitting that the beautiful chamber in the Grove should be used by the Council—now the highest authority in Green-sky. However, the move to the Grove continued to be postponed, at the request of the delegates from Erda.

  It was not that the Erdlings were unappreciative of the opportunity to use and enjoy the luxurious surroundings that had for so long been reserved for the exclusive use of the Ol-zhaan. It was simply a matter of convenience, the convenience of some of the Erdling Councilors whose age and physical condition made a hardship of the long climb to the heights. For some, even to reach the lowest grund-level by means of the newly constructed hanging stairways was far from easy. And to go still higher along narrow branchways, ramps, and ladders would be not only very difficult, but dangerous as well, since several of the more elderly had not yet mastered the use of the shuba, and perhaps never would.

  So the emergency meeting of the Joined Council was convened in the great assembly hall. And it was there, just outside the great archway of the entrance, that Neric and Genaa came upon Raamo. Simply dressed in an unadorned shuba of pale brown, such as was often worn by apprentices and students, Raamo looked strangely out of place among the other Councilors, a child among adults, a shy, uncertain boy among men and women long accustomed to honor and responsibility. Even Genaa, who was approximately the same age, seemed older. To Neric, it seemed a matter of gifts—and time. Genaa’s brilliance of mind and body was a temporal gift, and having received it so early had aged her, making her wise and beautiful beyond her years. But the gifts that had been given to Raamo were ageless—beyond the realm of days and years.

  When Raamo saw Neric and Genaa, his pale face lightened briefly with a smile and he hurried to meet them. But his eyes were troubled.

  “What is it?” Raamo asked. “The messenger told me only that there was to be an emergency meeting. What is it about? Wassou?”

  But at that moment the huge double doors of the hall were opened, and the Councilors surged past them.

  “Wassou was injured by the Nekom,” Neric said briefly. “He is still alive. Come, we will hear it all soon enough.”

  Along with the other members of the Council, Raamo, Neric, and Genaa made their way down the long central aisle between the rows of tendril benches to the steps that led up to the high platform where the meeting table-board was set. The Council consisted of forty-seven members—twenty Erdlings and twenty Kindar, plus the seven who had faced D’ol Regle and brought about the Rejoyning. In spite of the short notice, nearly all were present to face what could be the greatest threat to the future of Green-sky since that first day when the power of uniforce had taken the tool-of-violence from the hands of D’ol Regle.

  The meeting was long and painful. What had happened was without precedent. There were not even any publicly recognized words to discuss what had been done, since the archaic terms were known only to those who had been Ol-zhaan. And the description of the deed was agonizingly embarrassing to all the delegates, and to the Kindar in particular.

  It seemed impossible to believe that such a thing had actually happened, and even more impossible to realize that it was necessary for them to discuss such an unnatural and inhuman event in a public place. And when the exact nature of the deed had been made clear to all, there followed an equally unthinkable duty. It was the responsibility of the Council to decide the fate of Axon Befal and the others who had attempted to take the life of the old man, Wassou.

  Except for the banishment of the Verban, of which the Kindar had been innocent and ignorant, all offenders in Green-sky had always been ordered to appear at one of the Chambers of Justice. There they were examined and asked to justify their behavior in terms of its relationship to the gifts of the Spirit—to Peace and Joy and Love. If their explanation was considered to be lacking, or if the offense was repeated, they were assigned to a remedial seminar. At the nearest Garden they attended classes in Peace—or in whatever Spirit-skill seemed appropriate, in that its lack seemed to be responsible for their offense. There, among the youngest children, they relearned the rituals and ceremonies, the skills and practices, that would make their misdeeds unnecessary. In almost all cases the method was highly effective. But in this case such a remedy was obviously impossible.

  Slightly more severe measures were often used in Erda, but even these were not appropriate for this. It seemed unlikely that public reprimand, heavier workload, organized ostracism or even reduced food ration would deter the Nekom from pursuing their terrible goal.

  At last, after hours of debate, a verdict was reached. Axon Befal and those of his followers who had participated in the attack would be found and examined, and if they were guilty, they would be taken to the new surface city that was just being constructed below the smallest and most distant Kindar city, Farvald. Guards would be posted, and the offenders would live and work under constant surveillance for a period of at least two years. Their movements would not be hindered within the boundaries of the city, but if they left Farbelo at any time, for any reason, the Council would immediately be notified.

  On leaving the assembly hall, Raamo and Neric and Genaa walked for a short way together. Raamo was silent, deep in thought, and Genaa watched him with concern. His face was as open and unblocked as that of a three-year-old, and it was not necessary to be able to pense to know that he was in great mind-pain.

  “Are you coming with us to the youth hall, then?” she asked when they turned off the main branchpath.

  Raamo looked up suddenly, roused from his thought-taking. “No,” he said, looking around in bewilderment. “I meant to go on towards the rampway. I was going back to the Vine Palace. I must see if Pomma and Teera are ..
. if they are all right.”

  “All right?” Neric asked. “Why wouldn’t they be all right?”

  “They were to be taken today to the harvester’s guild hall in Orchardgrund. My father arranged it. Some of the members of his guild have formed a chapter of Ny-zhaan, and they asked if the children could be present at their welcoming of the members.”

  “A chapter of Ny-zhaan in the harvesters’ guild?” Genaa asked. “The movement must, indeed, be spreading. I thought it was popular mainly among professional thought-takers—teachers from the academies, and the few former Ol-zhaan who started it.”

  “I think that is true,” Raamo said, “for the most part. But my father was asked to attend some of their meetings, and he has become interested. I think that he has influenced some of his fellow harvesters. But I think it is true that there are not many from the craft guilds who are members of the Ny-zhaan.”

  “I thought the movement might be dying out,” Neric said. “At least I’ve heard very little about them in recent weeks.”

  “They are few in number, I think,” Raamo said, “but very dedicated.”

  “Dedicated? To what? I don’t think I’ve ever heard exactly what their beliefs and rituals are.”

  “They don’t seem to have many rituals,” Raamo said. “At least, I’ve not heard much said concerning them. But they have many meetings.”

  “What do they do at their meetings if they have no rituals?” Genaa asked.

  “They talk,” Raamo said. “They meet together and talk. Some of them are Erdling.”

  “And of what do they talk?”

  “They talk of the Spirit, I think, and of the teachings of Nesh-om. And of the children. They have great Love for the children.”

  “But if they have such great Love for Pomma and Teera, why are you fearful? Surely no harm could come to the children at a meeting of the Ny-zhaan.”