that all the human species
originated from the roots of the First Ones. How can we be that
different from you? We, like your own race, practiced genocide. The
very land we stand on is proof of that. The AirClan along with
WaterClan disappeared at the time of the ClanWars.::
Syn could feel the irritation that seethed
through their link. Both Zaron and Bron hated the type of prejudice
that defined someone as different.
::There are those who would destroy that
which they do not understand.::
The study door which Syn carefully closed
behind her entry burst open. In ran a crying Naffie and Duchess
nipping at his heels. ::Mommie, she hurt me, she wouldn’t stop
biting and scratching until I came downstairs.::
“Zaron, Bron, Duchess never misbehaves that
way, something’s wrong…”
Syn grabbed for Nafer as the house shook.
Bron pushed them down to the floor and covered them with his body
as Zaron followed the mewling cat. He met Garlance and Stoker in
the large entry hall at the foot of the staircase. “Where?”
Duchess sprung up the stairs. Zaron followed.
She led him to the door to the suite she and Naffie just left. The
huge bed lay in ruins. It seemed that the explosive device was
placed under the bed and designed so the explosion was contained
and set in a manner that contained it to the immediate area in and
surrounding the bed. Duchess pawed at his leg.
“You are forgiven, Beauty, you saved our
offspring’s life.”
* * * *
They returned to the study. Bron rose. “We
are all in good health. Thank Ulna the White that the petite beauty
drove Naffie down the stairs. She must be special to Ulna because
of her unique coloring.” Naffie sat on the end of the sofa emitting
a string of hiccups punctuated by an occasional sob. “Do you think
Duchess is angry with me? Will she still let me be friends and sit
on my lap?”
Syn moved to a large chair across the room
and sat on the arm beside Naffie, placing her left arm around his
shoulder and pulling him in close to her breast. “Duchess is not
angry with you. She knows you didn’t understand what she was trying
to tell you.”
“But earlier today I heard her. Why didn’t I
hear her this time?”
“I can’t answer that, sweetheart, maybe
because you were sleeping—but it doesn’t matter, she knows you
didn’t understand and she did what she could to make sure you
stayed safe. I’ll bet she’s more worried that you may be angry at
her.”
“She’s not angry?”
Syn nodded solemnly, “I don’t think so. Why
don’t I call her and then I bet she will come right to you.
Duchess…” Syn called to the cat.
“You think she’ll come?”
“I think so,” Syn answered.
Bron walked over to open the study door. “Is
the suite intact?”
“Yes, the explosion was tightly confined; it
was a shaped charge weapon that directed the blast upwards. It was
specifically designed to obliterate the bed and its occupants.
Nothing else in the room was affected.”
“If that is the case, we must do a sweep of
the rooms. Replace the bed and run the air filter.”
As Bron opened the door, Duchess curled
around it. Duchess went to sit on the multi-patterned, hand woven
rug, raked her claws across the threads, and began to wash her face
clean of the small mote of soot on her whiskers.
She spotted Naffie and as Syn predicted,
headed straight for him. Jumping on his lap, she circled around to
find a comfortable spot then lay curled up on his lap, kneading his
trews.
“See, Naffie, everything is fine.”
“Nafer, why don’t you take Duchess up to your
room? Show her some of your toys. Maybe she might play with you.”
Syn scratched Duchess under her chin.
“Do you think she will?”
“I think so.”
Naffie rose, taking care to balance Duchess
in his arms, and left the room. Syn looked up at Bron and Zaron. ::I hope I read you right. You wanted to talk?::
“Yes, we wanted to have this conversation in
a more leisurely fashion, Pa Chette.” Bron sat down
originated from the roots of the First Ones. How can we be that
different from you? We, like your own race, practiced genocide. The
very land we stand on is proof of that. The AirClan along with
WaterClan disappeared at the time of the ClanWars.::
Syn could feel the irritation that seethed
through their link. Both Zaron and Bron hated the type of prejudice
that defined someone as different.
::There are those who would destroy that
which they do not understand.::
The study door which Syn carefully closed
behind her entry burst open. In ran a crying Naffie and Duchess
nipping at his heels. ::Mommie, she hurt me, she wouldn’t stop
biting and scratching until I came downstairs.::
“Zaron, Bron, Duchess never misbehaves that
way, something’s wrong…”
Syn grabbed for Nafer as the house shook.
Bron pushed them down to the floor and covered them with his body
as Zaron followed the mewling cat. He met Garlance and Stoker in
the large entry hall at the foot of the staircase. “Where?”
Duchess sprung up the stairs. Zaron followed.
She led him to the door to the suite she and Naffie just left. The
huge bed lay in ruins. It seemed that the explosive device was
placed under the bed and designed so the explosion was contained
and set in a manner that contained it to the immediate area in and
surrounding the bed. Duchess pawed at his leg.
“You are forgiven, Beauty, you saved our
offspring’s life.”
* * * *
They returned to the study. Bron rose. “We
are all in good health. Thank Ulna the White that the petite beauty
drove Naffie down the stairs. She must be special to Ulna because
of her unique coloring.” Naffie sat on the end of the sofa emitting
a string of hiccups punctuated by an occasional sob. “Do you think
Duchess is angry with me? Will she still let me be friends and sit
on my lap?”
Syn moved to a large chair across the room
and sat on the arm beside Naffie, placing her left arm around his
shoulder and pulling him in close to her breast. “Duchess is not
angry with you. She knows you didn’t understand what she was trying
to tell you.”
“But earlier today I heard her. Why didn’t I
hear her this time?”
“I can’t answer that, sweetheart, maybe
because you were sleeping—but it doesn’t matter, she knows you
didn’t understand and she did what she could to make sure you
stayed safe. I’ll bet she’s more worried that you may be angry at
her.”
“She’s not angry?”
Syn nodded solemnly, “I don’t think so. Why
don’t I call her and then I bet she will come right to you.
Duchess…” Syn called to the cat.
“You think she’ll come?”
“I think so,” Syn answered.
Bron walked over to open the study door. “Is
the suite intact?”
“Yes, the explosion was tightly confined; it
was a shaped charge weapon that directed the blast upwards. It was
specifically designed to obliterate the bed and its occupants.
Nothing else in the room was affected.”
“If that is the case, we must do a sweep of
the rooms. Replace the bed and run the air filter.”
As Bron opened the door, Duchess curled
around it. Duchess went to sit on the multi-patterned, hand woven
rug, raked her claws across the threads, and began to wash her face
clean of the small mote of soot on her whiskers.
She spotted Naffie and as Syn predicted,
headed straight for him. Jumping on his lap, she circled around to
find a comfortable spot then lay curled up on his lap, kneading his
trews.
“See, Naffie, everything is fine.”
“Nafer, why don’t you take Duchess up to your
room? Show her some of your toys. Maybe she might play with you.”
Syn scratched Duchess under her chin.
“Do you think she will?”
“I think so.”
Naffie rose, taking care to balance Duchess
in his arms, and left the room. Syn looked up at Bron and Zaron. ::I hope I read you right. You wanted to talk?::
“Yes, we wanted to have this conversation in
a more leisurely fashion, Pa Chette.” Bron sat down
Similar Books
