Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  “Your sister is a lovely woman,” Ma said, her smile now actually reaching her eyes.

  “She’s an absolute terror now she’s a mother,” Kei said. “I have to behave myself around her, it’s sickening.”

  “Sounds like Myka coming to stay might be good for you,” Pa said, still grinning.

  “And who says you’re not going to behave around my son?” Ma said, turning to glare at her friend. “Does that mean I have to stay and make sure you do?”

  “Oh, gods. Reji, don’t you dare let her—”

  “Let? Let?”

  She tugged on Kei’s braid in admonishment. Risa smirked at her making Kei cower in terror while Pa attempted to look dignified, but had to cover his mouth as he laughed. The servant who had come to bring the food seemed completely nonplussed at their antics.

  “They’re silly for adults, don’t you think?”

  Karik turned to Seiki. “They’ve been like this all my life. I don’t think they’ll ever change.”

  “I hope not,” she said, grinning. “This is going to be fun.”

  Seeking Home: 11

  Karik stretched, and shook his hand to get rid of the cramp. Probably time to stop for the day—the library was clearing out. Kei hadn’t come to collect him, but then he wasn’t expecting him as Kei had had to go to the House of the Gifted. He and Seiki were going to go there mid-afternoon so Kei could make his regular check on Wyma’s health. Karik had said he would follow them later, and that was now.

  As always, he had to blink to get used to the bright sunshine after the cool, indirect light of the library. It was also a lot warmer outside—he’d not been outdoors since the morning, and thought guiltily that Ma would be cross to know that. It was just so fascinating in the library, all the books and maps, all the information he was making notes on. He’d make up for it by working in the academy garden tomorrow, he told himself.

  People nodded to him and smiled as he walked out of the building—after six weeks, he was becoming a familiar figure to many, and he knew quite a lot of their names now. Having Kei as a guardian helped, of course, and his friendship with the Gifted had not gone unnoticed, but he had also made friends on his own behalf. There was Lorus, a young man from Kuplik, here to study medicine with Kei, Tiremza from Andon, who was going to be an engineer, and Kati from Urshek, who was a pupil of Master Jezinke and was here to exchange ideas with the masters in the north. People from all over Periter who found Karik not the least bit odd for being a Prij, and who were only interested in what he knew, and what he could talk to them about.

  Today, he didn’t run into anyone in particular as he left the academy—it was a little earlier than most would leave, and later than some. The main square was bustling as it always was, people going in and out of the House of the Rulers, or headed to the banking district, or simply to come and admire the sights, since Darshek was considered a gracious city by Darshianese standards, and even some of the hardier and wealthy Prij visited at their leisure. A few had made their homes in the city, though it wasn’t encouraged by the Rulers, Kei had told him.

  Karik walked across the square, taking advantage of the shade trees since it was still very hot. The heat was taking some getting used to. Kei said it got even worse than this in the summer. Karik hoped they had gone back to the village before that.

  As he passed in front of the House of the Rulers, he noticed a dishevelled-looking, elderly man standing staring at the building, a strange, rather wild expression on his face as if he was lost or upset. By his dress and rough appearance, he looked like he might be a farmer up in Darshek for the first time, perhaps disoriented by the city. As Karik approached him, he saw how the man’s fists were clenching at his sides in a rather spasmodic way. Wondering if the man were ill, he touched his shoulder. Immediately, the man whirled on him. “Pissing Prij! Keep your filthy hands off me, you piece of urs shit!”

  Shocked at the viciousness of his tone, Karik stepped back automatically, and the man stalked off and disappeared among the passers-by. It was likely the man hadn’t realised he spoke Darshianese, but it still wasn’t very nice of him. He hadn’t actually encountered any anti-Prijian prejudice since he’d been in Darshek, so to be reminded of the exact same attitude he’d left behind in the village was an unpleasant shock.

  Shrugging off the strange encounter as best he could, he walked up the road towards the house of the Gifted where he had been over half a dozen times now. He’d have gone more often if Reis and Seiki had had their way, but Kei had limited the visits, saying it was important to remember that many of the Gifted were still wary of strangers, and quite a few disliked anyone ‘normal’ visiting at all. If Kei was there, then Karik could go. He preferred Karik didn’t visit on his own, and since Karik was anxious not to damage the special relationship he had with these extraordinary people, or to abuse the honour they gave him in letting him visit at all, he was happy to obey.

  As he approached the gate he rose off the ground, and grinned. Reis—the first time this happened, he’d been flabbergasted, but now he just relaxed and let the mind-mover lift him gracefully over the walls and float him to the front door, where he was waiting for Karik. “You know, I h-have legs, Reis.”

  Reis hugged him. “I know, but it’s more fun like that, yes?” And Karik had to admit it was—he would never get tired of flying, even if someone else had to do it for him. “Come on, everyone’s missed you! We’re having tea in the garden, and Kira made some cakes just for Kei and you.”

  Kira being one of the few of the Gifted who liked to cook and who was any good at it, Karik was in for a treat. There was only a small group of people in the garden, and he took his place on the grass next to Seiki. Kei waved hello to him but barely paused in his animated conversation he was having with Jera. Meda poured Karik some tea and asked him how he was enjoying the study at the academy. “I l-like it a lot. The beast anatomy l-lectures are interesting.”

  “You’re speaking much better these days,” she said. “I hope that’s not a rude thing to say.”

  He smiled, as did Seiki. “No. I’m pl-eased.” He still struggled with words, but he was learning to elongate sounds rather than repeat them. He went to see Titira twice a week and he and Seiki spent an hour each day working on the exercises. She had started studying with Titira with the idea of being able to teach some other children the same technique. Her voice, unlike Karik’s, was exceptional and Titira thought she should commence full training as a singer. Seiki wasn’t sure about that—she wanted to do ‘real work’, and being a singer didn’t appeal much, she’d said.

  “Oh, Kei, tell him the news!” Reis said.

  “Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. We got letters from Andon today—Lord Jiv should be back in a few days and Arman should be back in a week. He should have left yesterday.”

  “Nearly forgot, my bottom,” Neka said, chuckling. “The man talked of nothing else for half an hour when he got here.”

  “That’s not true. Wyma and I spoke of at least one other thing,” Kei said indignantly, but his grin showed his delight. Arman’s return had been delayed for several weeks, something which had upset Kei a good deal. To know he was finally on his way had to be a relief. Of course it brought the day closer when Karik would have to talk to him again, but that was always going to come.

  “Maybe next time we should all go to Andon,” Reis said. “We could make sure everyone got home like that,” he said, snapping his fingers.

  “I don’t want to go to Andon,” Neris said with a scowl. “Too pissing cold.”

  “No one’s going to Andon,” Kei said. “I’m nailing Arman’s feet to the ground the moment he gets back. If he even thinks of going away again, I’ll dose him with pijn for a month until he forgets about it.”

  “Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed him being away?” This was Kira, coming up to them with a plate of sweet cakes, and sitting down to put her bounty before them. Reis leapt on the food as if he was starving and pouted when Meda slapped his hand. �
�One would never guess,” she added dryly, which made everyone grin.

  “How is Wyma?” Karik asked, accepting a cake.

  “Perfectly well, as usual. I wish I could say that about people I know twenty-five years his junior.” He was referring to Lord Meki, whose health was always a concern. “I don’t know why I bother checking him, except I love to talk to him so much.”

  “And he enjoys your visits, too,” Meda said. “Perhaps he’s only so well because you come to see him all the time.”

  “Um, Meda, that’s not how it works,” Kei pointed out. “I’m not a prophylactic medicine,” which comment made Karik nearly choke on his cake.

  “You seem to keep Arman pretty fit,” Jera said. “It’ll be good to see him again. It’s been so odd, him not being in Darshek. You get used to someone being around all the time, then you want to tell them something and they’re not there any more. Like they’ve died.”

  “Oh, thanks, Jera, I need that thought right now,” Kei said. “As if I wasn’t worried enough about him sailing back over those seas.”

  Neka gave him a hug, and stroked his face. “Don’t be worried, Kei,” she said in a quiet voice. “People sail safely from Andon all the time.”

  “If it was perfectly safe, they wouldn’t be asking Jiv and Arman to travel separately with half our people each,” he snapped. “I’m sorry,” he apologised immediately, taking her hand. “I just worry.”

  “We understand,” Jera said. “We know it’s been hard.”

  Kei tried to smile, but Karik was surprised to see how close to tears he was. Meda held him close, and Reis moved closed so he could hug him from behind.

  “Poor Kei,” Seiki said. “I wish we could do something for him, like send Reis across the sea to fetch Arman right now.”

  “He’d do it in an instant,” Karik said. “But Wyma and the Rulers won’t let any of you put yourselves at that kind of risk.”

  “They did during the war. Everyone here went to Kuprij then.”

  “Yes, but that was special. They can’t use the Gifted every time someone goes on a ship. Kei wouldn’t allow it.”

  “I guess. But Kei is so worried.”

  “I know. But when Arman gets back, he’ll be fine.”

  She nodded and bit into her cake. “I should be terrified to sail out in the middle of the ocean like that. I’d be worried that we would sink, every minute.”

  “It’s scary during a storm, but the rest of the time, it’s not bad.”

  “I don’t think I’m as brave as you.”

  “Well, I didn’t have a lot of choice, the first time, and you can’t stay scared forever. It’s too tiring.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I’m going to work in the garden tomorrow. Want to join me?”

  “Sure!”

  Seiki didn’t know much about gardening, or plants, but she was curious to learn about anything new, so she was happy to follow Karik’s lead. Karik was more than happy to have her company, since he missed that of his friends in the village more than he thought he would. At least Gyo had written to say that he and his parents were planning to be in Ai-Albon for Kei’s annual visit, so Karik would see him almost as soon as he got back. But that was at least another three months away yet—over two months before they left and then the journey itself.

  Karik was torn between wanting to go home and see his parents again, and wanting to stay in Darshek for months and months longer—he hadn’t even scratched the surface of what he would learn here. Kei was already talking about the books he could take back with him, and the study he wanted Karik to do before he came back to the city. Already Kei assumed Karik would return, and Karik realised he was doing the same thing. Much as he hated being homesick—although he spoke to his parents every few days thanks to Seiki and Neka’s kindness—the idea of not returning, of not seeing his new friends, of not being able to visit the academy to read the latest papers, seemed unthinkable.

  Of course, the one thing which would kill that idea dead would be if he and Arman couldn’t overcome their estrangement. Kei was sure they could, and while Arman was far away, it seemed possible to Karik too. But now the man was just a week from returning, and he felt his doubts returning in force, especially remembering the cold expression on his face the last time Karik had seen him. If Arman forbade him from coming back to Darshek, either as Kei’s lover or as a Ruler, Karik would have very little argument against it.

  Kei was calm again, and now cheerfully munching cakes, complimenting Kira on them and lamenting how Pira always rationed them out when she made them. One would never guess to look at him how much anxiety he held in his heart, or how his nights were frequently disturbed by bad dreams which made him mutter and cry out. Several mornings, Kei had obviously been up long before Karik, working in the kitchen, cleaning, or setting the laundry to boil, and Karik was sure the man had not slept at all. Did Arman have any idea how much Kei suffered when he was away? If this was what being in love with someone meant, Karik wasn’t sure he wanted to experience it all.

  Finally, even Kei’s appetite was sated. “Right, young Karik, we better get back and see what Pira’s up to.” He got to his feet and told everyone else to not bother seeing him out. Seiki waved to them as they left.

  “So, tell me what you remember of the skeletal structure of the urs beast,” Kei said.

  Karik grinned. He’d known Kei would do this. He took his teaching duties very seriously for all his silliness, and woe betide any of his students who didn’t pay attention in his lectures. He didn’t mind stupidity half as much as he minded laziness. Fortunately, beast anatomy was something with which Karik was already familiar, since he’d watch Peit butcher so many of the things, so he rattled off the major bones and the attached muscles, enumerated the vertebrae and the fact the fourth toe was in fact located close to the knee.

  “Hmmm, and the temple bone....”

  “Is not a t-true bone but a m-mass of solidified hair.”

  “Excellent. But don’t get cocky, Ka-chi. Next week is the dolphin and those bones are pissing hard to remember.” Kei grinned. “And your speech is coming on very nicely indeed. How are you finding the drawing classes?”

  Kei had decided that if Karik was really going to be a plant hunter for him, he needed to learn to draw properly. Unfortunately, the art master was a dry, humourless man with a thin, high voice that was really quite unpleasant to listen to. He reminded Karik very strongly of the tutor in Utuk. “Um, I...don’t l-like them much.”

  “No, I thought not. Rorik is a very good artist, but he’s not really interested in people who aren’t as naturally talented as he is. Well, do what you can, and perhaps when you come back, I’ll see if Meda can give you some private lessons. She does sometimes, and she already likes you, but there’s no point in wasting her time on a novice. Let Rorik knock your rough edges off and she can have you all nicely softened up,” he said, ruffling Karik’s hair.

  It was still very hot, though the sun was going to set soon and bring with it some welcome relief. People were still thronging the paths and streets, and Karik suddenly remembered the strange man he’d encountered. He told Kei about him, and Kei frowned. “That was unpleasant, by the sound of it. I don’t think I’ve heard of that happening up here before, but then I suppose I wouldn’t.”

  “I think he was a l-little touched.”

  “Possibly. Would you know him again?”

  “I think so.” The man had stood out in several ways, though Karik supposed if he was cleaned up and changed his clothes, he might pass Karik by unnoticed.

  “Hmm. If you see him again, let me know, will you? He might indeed be ill—we might be able to help him.”

  Karik nodded. “He might h-have gone home.”

  “That too. And speaking of home...fancy a race?”

  Kei was just as damn sneaky as Gyo and the bastard had the same long legs. Karik was still a short arse. That was something that all the classes in the world couldn’t change.

  See
king Home: 12

  It was odd how the last couple of hours of the journey from Andon seemed to go almost as slowly as any of the previous eight, Arman thought as he paced impatiently on the deck, half wishing he could dive overboard and swim the miles left to him. The shoreline of Darshek seemed to be no closer at all.

  But of course, it was, and quite suddenly, or so it seemed, the sailors had begun their usual flurry of activity, getting the ship ready for docking. All Arman had to do was keep out of the way, and restrain himself from leaping onto the dockside before it was safe.

  At least his new dignity as a Ruler came in useful now—no humping his pack and scrounging a lift for him this time. No, this time a carriage was waiting and his belongings were quickly taken in charge. All he had to do was acknowledge the salute of the soldiers who had come to accompany him to the House, and climb into the jesig-drawn vehicle. “Welcome home, my lord. Lord Meki has requested you come to see him. He said to let you know that Master Kei will be at the House too.”

  Arman grinned. Meki would know that he had not a chance in any hells of getting any time from him before he’d seen Kei again. “Thank you. May we go?”

  The carriage was driven smartly along the road to the city, not fast enough for Arman, but then, only the power of a mind-mover could take him as quickly as he wanted. Nearly three months away—gods, he would not do that again. Apart from anything else, he would have to strangle Lord Jiv, which would be unfortunate. The other Ruler was a good, dependable and hard-working man, but not exactly a vivacious or unusually imaginative one—but then Arman had been completely spoiled in that respect.

  He forced himself to maintain proper decorum and not go flying up the steps of the House, dressed as he was in the official robes. But he walked as quickly as was graceful up the steps and into the cool, elegant foyer. A clerk came up immediately and bowed. “Welcome back, my lord. Master Kei is in your office.”