by S. L. Viehl
Unless you’re feeling guilty about something.”
Qelta’s gaze met mine. I knew and I kept my word, I thought. Now tell him.
“It is time you were told,” Qelta said, accurately reading my thoughts. She looked at Kol, then took a
deep breath. “I am not your biological ClanMother, Kol. Her name was Rasea Varena, and she was my
ClanSister. Upon returning you safely to Joren, she put you in my charge and embraced the stars.” She
scanned our faces. “All of your ClanMothers embraced the stars as soon as they were reunited with their
families. With the exception of Sajora’s ClanMother, Kalea.”
“Why?” Danea shot to her feet, her hair beginning to seethe. “Why would they commit suicide, when they
had been freed?”
“Each ClanLeader suggested that the women should not live with the shame of having borne a child out of
bond,” Skalea said. “Only my ClanDaughter honored you so much, Sajora, that she refused to abandon
you for the stars.”
It didn’t give me the satisfaction I thought it would. “For which you kicked my mother off the planet.”
“You knew about this, Sajora?” Kol asked me in a quiet voice.
“Yes. My mother told me everything. She also made me swear never to tell you.” I looked at the six
people I had grown to love. “She thought if your adopted mothers wanted to maintain that illusion, then it
would be a kindness to preserve it.”
“We could not live with their shame,” Qelta said. “We discovered soon after that it was a mistake. Each
HouseClan chose a replacement ClanMother, but we could not bond with you. It was not until you
came, Sajora, and convinced our children to leave us that we realized how deeply we had wronged you.
It drove you from us, and in your absence we saw ourselves plainly for the first time.”
Kol rose to his feet, along with the others. I would have, but I contented myself with wheeling back from
the table. “Is there anything more?”
“Wait, there is something I want to know.” I looked at Qelta. “Do you know the names of our sires?” She
nodded. “Do Kol and I share the same one?”
“No. Kol’s sire was a man named Alexei Davidov. Your sire was named Samuel Kieran.”
“Thanks.” I took Kol’s hand and squeezed it. “Told you,” I murmured, just for his ears.
“We appreciate your candor.” Kol took the handles of my glidechair and began pushing it toward the
door.
“Kol, wait, please.” Qelta came around the table, and everyone else jumped to their feet. There wasn’t a
happy face in the room. “The reason the Houses have assembled here is not only to tell you the truth. We
wish you to return with us to Joren, to stay and allow us a second chance.”
“I gathered that was your intent.” Kol made a polite gesture of thanks. “I must discuss this with the
members of my HouseClan. You will understand we have much to think on.”
Qelta’s smile wavered. “Of course. If you decide against us, we will of course escort you to any world
you desire.”
I waved to the rest of the room. “We’ll get back to you.”
I don’t know why, but as we gathered in the quarters assigned to me with Kol, I thought of that first time
the seven of us had come together, in the caves beneath Joren.
Jakol. Nalek. Galena. Osrea. Danea. Renor. And you, Sajora. My mother’s ghost had never sounded
happier. The seven complete.
Funny that she hadn’t haunted me the whole time we were on Reytalon. A strange little pang in my heart
told me I wouldn’t hear from her again after this time, either.
I summoned the image of her face into my mind. I kept my promises, Mom. And I hope I’ve given you
a little peace. I love you; I’ll never forget you. See you in the stars someday.
I honor you, my ClanDaughter. I will be waiting.
“It would serve them well if we made them wait several rotations before returning our answer.” Sparky
got up and paced, until Nalek brought her a server of tea. “I spent two decades diving for scarpela pearl
clusters to please my ClanMother Koralko, whom nothing pleased, and now they tell me I never shared
her womb?”
“I do not mind that my ClanMother never carried me,” Nalek said, scratching at the ridges on his side. “I
have always imagined my birth giving her such pain.”
Someone was crying softly, and I rolled over to Galena, who had her face in her hands. “It’s okay,
Birdie.”
“It is not a smooth path.” She sobbed out the words. “My ClanMother claimed everything she did was
for love of me. But you were right, Sajora. I can see it now, knowing she never held me in her body.
How she must hate me.”
“She wouldn’t have given you that transmitter if she hated you, sweetie.” I would have picked her up and
plopped her on my lap, but I was still on the weak side. I had to be satisfied with rubbing the top of her
uninjured wing. “She honors you greatly.”
“We should tell them to take us to someplace wretched and leave us there,” Osrea said. “So they will
forever suffer, thinking of us in such a squalid state.”
“Oh, yeah, I want to go live somewhere terrible just for revenge,” I said, and rolled my eyes. “Count me
and Kol out of that plan, okay?”
It was the ever-silent Ren who finally came up with the solution. “I think we should return to Joren, but
not as members of their HouseClans. We call ourselves one; we should live as one.” He looked around
the room. “I do not want to leave any of you. You are the one true family I have always wanted.”
Everyone stared at him, then at each other.
“We wouldn’t have to return to our old lives,” Nalek said. “I for one would be happy to make a new
start.”
“Seven is rather small for a HouseClan,” Kol said. “But now that we are heroes, perhaps other Jorenians
would be eager to join us.”
“As long as they’re told I’m not Hsktskt,” Os said.
“I suppose you and Kol will be ClanLeaders,” Sparky said in a belligerent way.
“You can be ClanMom, if you want,” I replied, then patted my Chosen’s leg. “Just find your own
ClanDad.”
Galena stopped crying. “Will… will we allow other avatars, if… well, if others came and asked to join
us?”
“Given the diversity of this bunch, sweetheart, I don’t think we can turn anybody away.” I wiped the tears
from her face. “We’d get to be ClanSisters for real. We could stay up late and make Danea share girl talk
with us.”
“No girl talk, I beg you.” Sparky hissed, then threw up her hands. “Oh, very well. Someone will have to
look out for the six of you; it may as well be me.”
“Then it’s decided.” I looked up at Kol. “All we need is a new name, right?”
“Yes. Names are chosen to honor what brought us together.” He looked at the rest of the clan, then
made a suggestion. “What say you, ClanSiblings?”
Everyone agreed it was perfect.
Joren didn’t create a new HouseClan very often, and the celebration for ours drew thousands of people
from all over the world. It was so huge that the Ruling Council itself hosted it, at the government pavilion
in the capital of Lno.
My stump had healed enough on the journey back to Joren that when we arrived, my surgeon was able
to fit me with a prosthesis, and I began the process of learning how to walk again
. On the night of our
celebration, I walked with my Chosen to the platform, high above the assembled Jorenians, and faced a
small series of steps that looked a little like Mount Everest to me.
“If I look like I’m going to tilt over,” I said to Kol, “grab me, okay?”
“I will be right beside you.”
I took his hand and lifted my right leg to the first step.
Slowly, with great care, I climbed the stairs. When I reached the platform, Kol put his arm around me
and hugged me, and the crowd below us broke into cheers.
“This is what I get for letting everyone know I have a peg leg,” I muttered.
“Smile, ClanMom,” Sparky said as she passed me.
When we took our places around the ceremonial dais, the chief council member Gnelo placed beautifully
woven crowns of yiborra grass on each of our heads, then turned to the silent crowd and made his
speech. Then he announced the name of our HouseClan, and the serious partying began.
Several hours later, the seven of us slipped away from the celebration and borrowed some transport, and
Kol drove us out to the country. He pulled off the glidepath beside a huge field of yiborra grass studded
with clusters of star-shaped purple flowers.
“Look.”
Above our heads, wind chasers—the Jorenian equivalent of fireflies—danced and lit up the night sky. I
heard Galena laugh, and saw prisms of color shoot out from Renor’s crystalline hands as he caught one of
the bugs, which resembled a flying ribbon, then released it. The wind chasers seemed to like Osrea, who
laughed like a boy as several lit on his head, shoulders, and arms. Danea scowled and swatted at the
bugs attracted by her glow, until Nalek gently placed one on a safe spot on her insulated sleeve, and
showed her its tiny wings.
Kol bent down to touch his brow to mine. “Now our journey begins, my heart.”
“Walk slow for a while,” I said, and touched his cheek before I looked around. “So what is this place?”
“This is the land the Ruling Council has granted to us.” The others gathered around as Kol described the
territorial boundaries, which included hundreds of acres of rich fields and forests, and even a small lake.
“Here is where we will build our own pavilion, and begin our new lives as HouseClan Kalea.”
At last, seven lonely travelers had found a home.