Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock)

by Krause, Marguerite

  “I called you ‘Dad’! It just came out. I couldn’t help it! And I couldn’t—” Her words broke off into more sobbing while Jordy listened with total incomprehension. This was a confession of a problem? He hadn’t known what to expect when he and Cyril took Iris into their family. Parents worried about irresponsible behavior, about sickness. With a child like Iris, he’d been concerned that she wouldn’t fit in with the other young people in Broadford. She had become popular, though, and no one could ask for a more conscientious Redmother for the village—or a finer daughter.

  “Iris, I don’t understand. I’m your father. You can call me whatever name you like best.”

  She pulled violently away from him, and some of her sorrow seemed to shift to anger. “No! I wish you were. I wish I’d been born here, raised here. But I’m only fooling myself to think that!”

  His own quick temper flared in response. Now it began to make sense. Soza, and the family that had abandoned her there, still stood between them. “You’re here now! The past doesn’t matter. No one pretends you didn’t have another father, a woman who gave birth to you. Parents who abandoned you! They sent you away because you disobeyed them. It’s tragic, I know, but it’s over. It wasn’t your fault. We love you, Iris!”

  “I know all that!” she cried. “I love you, too.”

  “Then what are we yelling about?” he demanded. “Have you been moping all this time because you don’t think you have the right to love us? Don’t you remember the Spring Festival? You belong here now.”

  “I wish I did.”

  “You do!” Jordy declared as firmly as he knew how. She quieted ever so slightly in the face of his determination. “The only one who can take you away from us is you yourself.” A frightening thought knocked the anger out of him. “Is that it? Are you thinking of returning to that other family? Do you want to go back to Edian?”

  Her shocked, “No!” woke the horse. Stockings snorted irritably and stamped one foot on the dirt floor. Jordy was thankful for the distraction. Iris glanced toward the disgruntled animal as well, and a hint of amusement broke through her distress.

  “Don’t mind her,” Jordy said gruffly.

  “Well, it is her home.”

  “I’m glad you see that.” She faced him, her anguished expression relaxing, ever so slightly, under the force of his words. “It’s her home, but she doesn’t mind sharing it with us. That’s what it means to be family. We’ll never send you away, Iris. I only mentioned Edian because you’ve been so unhappy and restless. But if that’s not what you want, we won’t speak of it again.”

  Her voice was a whisper. “Thank you.”

  “Good. Now, we know that you don’t want to leave, and you know how much we care for you. Has anything else been bothering you?”

  She wiped the back of one hand across her damp face, pushed some loose hair behind one ear, then tugged at her rumpled clothing. At least her general air of despair was gone. She seemed to be carefully searching for just the right words. Perhaps she hadn’t actually known why she was upset until he’d confronted her. The thought that he’d done the right thing gave him a warm sense of relief.

  When she finally spoke, her voice was hesitant, as if she had to figure out her thoughts before she could speak them. “I’ve been very confused. Torn. Not knowing who to be loyal to, not knowing who to be, really. I think I made my choice today. Making choices frightens me. I know which family I love. I can’t forget my other life, I shouldn’t, and that’s what hurts. It’s just taken me a while to see that what they’d want of me isn’t relevant right now.”

  “What others want of you is never important. Always make your own decisions, lass.”

  “It was making my own decisions that got me in trouble in the first place!”

  The complaint sounded more like the spirited young woman he suspected she was. “That may be. But just because your family over-reacted and sent you away, doesn’t mean that the decisions themselves were wrong.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “Are you hungry? Cyril will have supper ready by now.”

  To his great satisfaction, she smiled. “I’d better go help her,” she said. She put her hand in his and got up.

  “Wash your face first,” he instructed.

  “Yes, Dad.”

  Chapter 39

  On Festival morning, only a few wisps of high cloud interrupted the otherwise endless blue of the sky over Raisal. Aage had successfully banished the rain of a few days before, providing the perfect weather the king expected. Feather could recall more than a few rainy Spring Festivals in Garden Vale. Now she realized why the east wind had risen with such regularity a day or two before Festival to carry clouds out of Sitrine. She was surprised Jenil hadn’t given Aage or Sene a good talking-to about having some consideration for their neighbors. Then again, maybe she had. Both wizard and king were very good at humbly accepting a scolding, then going right ahead and doing what they wanted anyway.

  “Who was supposed to bring the garlands?” Feather called out to Dektrieb as he passed.

  The harried servant paused, a long ladder balanced on his shoulder. “A boy from Cheinil’s shop. They promised to send him at mid-morning.”

  “He’s late,” Feather complained loudly. Dektrieb, wisely, resumed crossing the lawn. Following his progress with her eyes, Feather saw that at least the kitchen pavilion was up. Smoke emerged from vents at either end of the structure. She hoped that was a sign of function, not disaster.

  “Do we know if all the supplies arrived this morning?” she asked.

  Beside her, Jeyn toyed with a ribbon streamer she’d picked out of a bush half an hour ago. “Hmmm?”

  “Cooking supplies. Food,” Feather enunciated clearly. “Did everything come in from the market?”

  Jeyn wound the ribbon through her fingers and bestowed a fond smile on Feather. “I’m sure it did. Stop worrying. Everything will be fine.”

  “How would you know? All you’re doing is thinking about Ivey! You’re not being any help at all!”

  Jeyn smoothed the ribbon with a wistful smile.

  Feather considered killing her. “How can you stand there looking so—so mushy! And beautiful,” she added truthfully.

  “You’re beautiful, too. It’s your day, Feather. Everything’s beautiful today.”

  “If it’s my day, why am I doing all the work?”

  “I had to talk to the law readers yesterday, and the day before. I dealt with that delegation about taxes late last night, too,” Jeyn pointed out.

  “And what do you mean, everything is beautiful?” Feather went on as if Jeyn hadn’t spoken. She pointed at a section of lawn full of upended tables and frantic servants. “Do you call that beautiful?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to be sick. Go away, Jeyn.”

  Jeyn drifted away, still smiling.

  Behind Feather, a masculine voice laughed. “My sister is in love,” Chasa said.

  “I never would have guessed.”

  He kissed Feather on the cheek. “We’re twins, you know. Twins do everything alike.”

  “At least you don’t look mushy.”

  “You wouldn’t let me.”

  Chasa walked past her and gazed critically up at the half-decorated platform. “Are you sure it will be finished in time?”

  “In time for what?” she asked with as much innocence as she could muster.

  “Not for the announcements,” he shot back. “Today I’m not interested in whatever’s happened to anybody else. I want us to be up there together. Almost like when we were little.”

  He was doing it again. All winter, Chasa had done nothing but fill her head with stories. Her days had been monopolized by the prince, until she became so used to his company that even his voice didn’t bother her the way it had at first.

  Obliging him, she rose to the bait. “All right, what did we do to the Festival platform when we were little?”

  It was his turn to look innocent, his big brown eyes wide. “
Why, nothing, Feather. We weren’t always in trouble.”

  “Just most of the time.”

  “The Festival I was thinking about was the one just after you turned five. The fall after Dad brought you home. He stood up on the platform to formally introduce you to the people as his daughter. You were shy, and didn’t want to go up beside him. So I held your hand and we went up together.” His smile was radiant and more than a little smug. “Everyone said we looked so cute.”

  “I bet they did,” Feather replied, teeth clenched.

  Sure enough, her betrothed continued, “You’re still cute.”

  “I’ve heard that before, Your Highness.”

  “And never liked it.”

  “And never will.”

  A servant ran toward them. She acknowledged Chasa with a quick, “Good morning, Your Highness,” then turned to Feather. “A boy is coming up the road with a cart full of flowers.”

  “Send him right over.” The servant ran off and Chasa began to back away. Feather caught his sleeve. “Oh, no. You just stand right there. If your twin is going to be useless, you can work in her place.”

  * * *

  Vray pulled the brush through her hair a final time. Considering the dampness of the day, it was the best she could do. She turned on the low stool beside her bed. “All right, who’s next?”

  “Me! Me!” Pepper and Matti clamored simultaneously. Pepper, older and quicker, reached her first.

  “I’d like a single braid, please. With this ribbon. Make sure it doesn’t come loose.”

  Matti pushed in beside her. “What about my buttons? Can’t you do my buttons first?”

  “One at a time,” Vray replied. She took Pepper by the shoulders and turned her to face the other way. Swiftly, she fastened the fancy tunic Matti had chosen to wear. The ladder from the main room creaked and Tob poked his head up through the floor.

  “Almost ready?” he asked.

  “Yes. Matti, go to your brother. Pepper, I’ll get this started, then I’m sure Mama can finish it for you.”

  “But I want you to do it!”

  Tob leaned far enough into the room to finish helping Matti. He made faces at her as he worked, causing her to giggle at the novelty of being nose to nose with her big brother. “Mama knows how to braid,” he told Pepper. “Iris and I promised to be early to help Canis with the festival decorations.”

  “We could help, too,” Pepper insisted.

  “You’re too little,” Tob said, then told Matti, “All done.”

  “We are not,” Pepper said.

  Vray tried a soothing tone. “You’ll be there soon enough. There’ll be plenty to do on a rainy day like this.”

  “But we want to come with you,” Matti said.

  Tob tapped her on the nose. “We want to be with our friends.”

  “You want to be with each other.” Pepper, blunt as always, twisted around to glare at Vray, pulling her half finished braid out of reach. “Tob never plays with us anymore. When he’s not doing his chores he’s following you to the village, and we have to stay here. It’s not fair!”

  Vray pressed her lips down on the threatening smile. “Tob and I like to talk. It’s grown-up talk. You wouldn’t be interested. Maybe it’s not fair, but that’s the way it is.”

  “How do you know I wouldn’t be interested?” Pepper challenged. “I can talk about anything Tob can talk about.”

  “Talk yes, make sense, no,” Tob muttered.

  Matti snatched the opportunity. “Pepper, Tob’s picking on you.”

  So much for a graceful exit, Vray thought. She said, “Time to go,” and quickly moved to the ladder.

  Vray nudged Tob’s shoulder firmly. He took the hint and whisked out of sight, clearing a path for her own escape. In the main room, Cyril was still cooking. Jordy sat off to the side of the hearth in his stocking feet, a cloth across his lap, polishing a boot. He looked up as Tob and Vray hurried toward the door.

  “We’ve got to go, Dad,” Tob announced.

  “The girls are dressed,” Vray added. “Pepper still needs help with her hair.”

  “What were they arguing about this time?” Jordy asked mildly.

  Some subtle magic came to parents, Vray decided. That was the only explanation for Jordy’s ability to be so consistently aware of his children’s activities. She’d never noticed it in her own parents. Thinking back, there was very little they had done that was parental—not as she’d come to understand the term. She said, “They’re feeling left out.”

  Tob followed her example. “I told Pepper they’re too little to come to the inn now. She didn’t like being reminded.”

  Pepper came scrambling down the ladder. Jordy said, “More tact next time, lad. Off with you now.”

  Gratefully, Vray ducked outside behind Tob. For the moment, the overcast sky was producing no more than a fine mist. They drew up their hoods and hurried down the hill, watching their footing on slick stones and mud.

  Once on the main road, they fell into step with one another. Tob twined his fingers with Vray’s. She squeezed his hand fondly.

  “It is not fondness,” she announced aloud.

  Tob smiled his impish smile at her. He smiled at almost everything she did. That in itself alternately amused and terrified her. “What isn’t fondness? Holding hands?”

  She set their linked hands swinging. “That. This. Everything our very perceptive little sister was complaining about. We have been ignoring them. We do spend all our time together.”

  “Why not? Who else would we spend time with?”

  “Our little sisters,” Vray repeated. “We’re family.”

  “Not physically.” Tob’s voice had deepened over the winter. It was difficult to think of him any longer as a boy. “You’re a Redmother. You know the rules. I’m your adopted brother. I can love you if I want. If we both want.”

  He was still young enough to blush. She held his hand more tightly still. What she felt wasn’t fondness. Desire, yes. He was a very attractive young man. There. She’d admitted it. The boy she’d met only a year ago—the boy who’d offered her kittens when she cried—had grown in more than size. Today was Spring Festival, a day for joy, celebration. For what seemed like the hundredth time she mentally reviewed the positions of the moons as far as her body’s cycle was concerned. Even if Ivey was right, and she was destined by Dreamer prophecy to take a Keeper husband, she was not fertile today. There was no reason not to resume having sex.

  Resume the practice of sex. Sex as she’d known it at Soza? No. There was no danger of that. This was Tob. She didn’t fear him. Didn’t fear anyone in Broadford.

  Of course she didn’t fear Tob. He was eager, but totally inexperienced. Whatever happened would happen her way, or not at all.

  “I love you,” she informed him. “As a brother.”

  “I love you more than Lim does,” he returned.

  She pulled her hand away from his and whacked him on the shoulder. “Will you stop talking about Lim?”

  “He spent a whole summer impressing you. I worry.”

  “You had the whole winter.”

  “He’s older than me.”

  “But not as handsome.” She groaned at the smug expression her remark produced.

  “That’s true.” He caught her hand again. “Let’s hurry. I want to get this day over with.”

  His comment wasn’t what she’d expected. “Why? I thought you love Spring Festival day.”

  The smile he gave her was mature to the point of being unnerving. “I’m hoping I’ll love Festival night more.”

  * * *

  By mid-morning the work was complete, and people began to arrive at the royal estate from Raisal and the surrounding countryside. Fruits and cheeses and cool drinks were served from the kitchen pavilion, and children’s games began in the large paddock. The real festivities, the feast and announcements, would not begin until noon. For the moment, Feather’s time was her own. She allowed Chasa to lead her to one of the tables set below
the terrace, where Jeyn was standing, a platter and pitcher and several glasses in front of her.

  “About time you dragged her away from there,” Jeyn greeted her brother.

  “She gets enthusiastic,” Chasa replied. He reached for the pitcher and poured lemonade for each of them.

  “You know, you two do look a little bit alike,” Feather conceded as they sat down around the small table.

  Jeyn and Chasa exchanged identical glances. “No!” they exclaimed in unison.

  Feather laughed. Although she and Jeyn were dressed as Brownmothers and Chasa wore the house colors, the stronger connection lay between the tall, fair-haired, dark-eyed brother and sister. Feather felt a little excluded. She’d seen it happen before when the two of them got caught up in one another. They could share a mood or an emotion unique to them and leave the rest of the world outside. It had never affected her with the least bit of jealously before. Lately, however, she’d been spending a lot of time with either one or the other twin. Alone with Jeyn, she felt herself a cherished sister. Alone with Chasa, she knew with absolute certainty that she was special to him. Now, watching them together, she found it hard to feel secure.

  She sipped her lemonade and pushed the mood away. Lingering questions, however, remained in her mind. “I didn’t even know people had twins. Before Savyea started getting so silly, that is, about everyone having lots of babies.”

  “It used to be rare,” Jeyn agreed. “It was rare when we were born.”

  Chasa looked at his sister significantly. “We almost weren’t born.”

  “Mother died from it,” Jeyn concluded.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Feather said. “I shouldn’t have raised the subject. Today is for celebrating beginnings, not endings.”

  “That’s all right,” Chasa said. “Actually, it was Aage’s doing, in a way.”

  “Not Mother’s dying,” Jeyn hastened to add. “Our birth.”

  Feather couldn’t resist that opening. Eyebrows rising, she said, “Really? But you look so much like Sene.”

  “Feather!” Chasa exclaimed.

  “Not that, either,” Jeyn said. “You see, Mother and Dad were infertile for a long time. Three or four years, and then when she did get pregnant she kept miscarrying. The fire bears were still everywhere, and even though the Dreamers were dying Dad knew he had to produce more Shapers, for the fighting if for nothing else.”