Necessity's Child (Liaden Universe®) by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page B
Authors: Steve Miller, Sharon Lee
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said politely. “I’m Mike Golden. What’s your dog’s name?”
“Rascal,” she answered promptly.
“Glad to meet Rascal, too. Now, c’mon, stand up.” He did, and held his hand down to her.
Kezzi knew better than to let one of Those Others get a hand on her. She came to her feet fast, and went three steps back, not quite beyond Mike Golden’s reach, which was long. He didn’t look too fast, though, with his short legs, his big shoulders, and heavy bones. Kezzi thought she could outrun him.
“Where’s your ma?” the man asked her.
Kezzi pointed vaguely northward. “Home.”
Mike Golden nodded. “That bein’ the case, and it comin’ on to evenin’, how about I walk you and Rascal home?”
Kezzi shook her head. “I know the way,” she said, and added, for the smile in his eyes. “Good-bye, Mike Golden.”
She snapped her fingers for Malda, spun and took off at the top of her speed, dodging between the gadje who crowded the sidewalk.
She ran as fast as she could, head down, expecting to hear the man’s voice raised behind her, shouting out for somebody to catch that girl!
But that didn’t happen. Kezzi ran, Malda at her heel, and there was no outcry, and no one moved to stop them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a merry group around Jin’s hearth—Kezzi, Isart, and Droi, who had all contributed food—Silain, of course, and also Memit, Kar, and Gahn, who brought fiddle, sistreen and drum and earned their suppers with song.
Isart’s contribution had been a piece of salt meat, which Jin had slivered and fried with the flapjacks she’d made from the flour Kezzi had contributed.
Kezzi thought the meat too strong, and fed hers to Malda. Droi saw, and slipped her another flapjack, dredged in the dusty sugar that she had brought back from the City Above.
Tea had been poured and the musicians were picking up their instruments again, when there came a pounding of feet across the common, and here was Vylet, gasping for the luthia to come to her own hearth at once!
Silain looked up from her tea, her silver hair moving along her shoulders like rain.
“What desperate need is this?”
“Udari found a dead gadje by the eight door,” gasped Vylet, “and brought him inside.”
“If the gadje is dead, he is beyond us all,” said Silain, unmoving.
Kezzi, though, put down her mug, remembering the brown man with the smiling eyes, there Above, who had not called out to Those Others his brothers to catch her. Had he followed her after all on his short, bandy legs? The streets Above were dangerous; sometimes even the Bedel were caught—
“Your pardon, luthia ,” Vylet gasped. “The gadje has a number of breaths left in him. Udari thinks—five.”
Udari had only a little of the farsight. But, if he said that five breaths remained to the gadje , absent the luthia ’s blessing, then likely he was right.
Silain rose speedily, and Kezzi, too, without being asked.
“I will come,” said Jin. “If you wish.”
“Yes,” said the luthia , and so it was the three of them came to where the gadje lay, while Vylet ran for the headman.
* * *
It was not Mike Golden, rumpled and sticky with blood, on a blanket at the luthia ’s hearth. At first glance, Kezzi thought the gadje a boy, then Jin sponged the blood from his face and she saw that, however small, this was a man grown.
A man grown, but surely dying, his fires low and all but colorless. Even Kezzi could see that much.
“He is broken in many places,” the luthia breathed, fingering the gadje ’s dying glow. “Inside more than out.”
“Perhaps it is best to smooth the road,” Jin said, “and give that which is left to the furnace.”
To smooth the road to the World Unseen—that was the luthia ’s most potent blessing. Surely, in such a case as this, it was the only good thing that could be done. Kezzi blinked and altered her breathing to that special rhythm she had so recently dreamed, bringing what she had learned about such matters to
“Rascal,” she answered promptly.
“Glad to meet Rascal, too. Now, c’mon, stand up.” He did, and held his hand down to her.
Kezzi knew better than to let one of Those Others get a hand on her. She came to her feet fast, and went three steps back, not quite beyond Mike Golden’s reach, which was long. He didn’t look too fast, though, with his short legs, his big shoulders, and heavy bones. Kezzi thought she could outrun him.
“Where’s your ma?” the man asked her.
Kezzi pointed vaguely northward. “Home.”
Mike Golden nodded. “That bein’ the case, and it comin’ on to evenin’, how about I walk you and Rascal home?”
Kezzi shook her head. “I know the way,” she said, and added, for the smile in his eyes. “Good-bye, Mike Golden.”
She snapped her fingers for Malda, spun and took off at the top of her speed, dodging between the gadje who crowded the sidewalk.
She ran as fast as she could, head down, expecting to hear the man’s voice raised behind her, shouting out for somebody to catch that girl!
But that didn’t happen. Kezzi ran, Malda at her heel, and there was no outcry, and no one moved to stop them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a merry group around Jin’s hearth—Kezzi, Isart, and Droi, who had all contributed food—Silain, of course, and also Memit, Kar, and Gahn, who brought fiddle, sistreen and drum and earned their suppers with song.
Isart’s contribution had been a piece of salt meat, which Jin had slivered and fried with the flapjacks she’d made from the flour Kezzi had contributed.
Kezzi thought the meat too strong, and fed hers to Malda. Droi saw, and slipped her another flapjack, dredged in the dusty sugar that she had brought back from the City Above.
Tea had been poured and the musicians were picking up their instruments again, when there came a pounding of feet across the common, and here was Vylet, gasping for the luthia to come to her own hearth at once!
Silain looked up from her tea, her silver hair moving along her shoulders like rain.
“What desperate need is this?”
“Udari found a dead gadje by the eight door,” gasped Vylet, “and brought him inside.”
“If the gadje is dead, he is beyond us all,” said Silain, unmoving.
Kezzi, though, put down her mug, remembering the brown man with the smiling eyes, there Above, who had not called out to Those Others his brothers to catch her. Had he followed her after all on his short, bandy legs? The streets Above were dangerous; sometimes even the Bedel were caught—
“Your pardon, luthia ,” Vylet gasped. “The gadje has a number of breaths left in him. Udari thinks—five.”
Udari had only a little of the farsight. But, if he said that five breaths remained to the gadje , absent the luthia ’s blessing, then likely he was right.
Silain rose speedily, and Kezzi, too, without being asked.
“I will come,” said Jin. “If you wish.”
“Yes,” said the luthia , and so it was the three of them came to where the gadje lay, while Vylet ran for the headman.
* * *
It was not Mike Golden, rumpled and sticky with blood, on a blanket at the luthia ’s hearth. At first glance, Kezzi thought the gadje a boy, then Jin sponged the blood from his face and she saw that, however small, this was a man grown.
A man grown, but surely dying, his fires low and all but colorless. Even Kezzi could see that much.
“He is broken in many places,” the luthia breathed, fingering the gadje ’s dying glow. “Inside more than out.”
“Perhaps it is best to smooth the road,” Jin said, “and give that which is left to the furnace.”
To smooth the road to the World Unseen—that was the luthia ’s most potent blessing. Surely, in such a case as this, it was the only good thing that could be done. Kezzi blinked and altered her breathing to that special rhythm she had so recently dreamed, bringing what she had learned about such matters to
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