Black Bead: Book One of the Black Bead Chronicles Read Free

future self was up to.
    Tam and Megan did not move. They squatted in the dust and stared up at her with their mouths open.
    “Well? Are we going outside or not?” Cheobawn asked impatiently.
    “Unh,” grunted Tam, shaking his head, “Sure, why not?”
    Cheobawn grinned at them both and stepped around them to saunter over to the gate. The two boys eyed her uncertainly and then looked up as Tam approached.
    “Connor, Alain, this is Megan and Cheobawn. They are coming with us,” Tam said by way of introductions. Alain’s omeh marked him as Firewalker tribe. She did not need to see his collar to know this. His auburn hair, flashing coppery in the bright light, had been a dead give away. Cheobawn thought his hair beautiful despite the Mothers’ amusement. Flash without substance, Amabel had sniffed in disdain, but Amabel was not prone to frivolity and perhaps found the bright colors not suited to the weight of the office of Maker of the Living Thread.
    Mora, behind closed doors, had been amused as well, but here stood Alain, traded one for one, made Son of the Heart to replace a Son of the Flesh, proof perhaps that Mothers could be seduced by more than logic when it came to picking the future husbands of the dome.
    Connor, the smallest of the boys, was Waterwall tribe, just like Tam. He was a shorter, rougher boned version of Tam’s golden skinned darkness. She did not remember him from Tam’s caravan, so he surely must be younger, by a year or two. He did not have as many honor beads as Tam or Alain but he was still young enough for that not to matter.
    The one called Alain stared at the beaded collar around her own neck.
    “But she’s … She’s the …” he sputtered, groping for a word that did not offend.
    Cheobawn kept her hands by her side, resisting the instinctive urge to cover the large black bead set in the center of her omeh. Instead, she lifted her chin proudly, as if to offer them a better view of her collar.
    “… an excellent Ear,” Tam finished the sentence, glaring at Alain as he held the gate open for the girls.
    “Why do we need two girls?” whined the one named Connor. “The rules only say we need one.”
    “Because I can outrun you, out climb you, out wrestle you, and beat you at bladed sticks,” growled Megan, pushing her face close to Connor’s. “If she does not go, I do not go. Got a problem with that?”
    Connor looked up at her with a dark scowl on his face, obviously wanting to take her up on that challenge. The boy had a suicidal streak, thought Cheobawn, or maybe he had not seen Megan on the skirmish floor. Tam punched him in the shoulder, redirecting his attention to where it needed to be.
    “We need them both. They are a team like we are a team. Cheobawn is six and doesn’t qualify as a Pack guide. We need Megan to get her past the gate guards,” Tam said firmly. “Besides, Megan has been outside the dome a million times on harvester forays and knows the terrain close to the dome by heart. Let’s go.”
    Alain opened his mouth to object but Tam gave him no opportunity. Instead, the Pack leader pivoted on his heel and marched down the promenade back the way they had come. The others had no choice but to follow.

 
     
    Chapter Two
     
    Tam led his odd little procession across the Central Plaza. Cheobawn watched the faces of the people they passed. There were stares yet no one stopped them or yelled at Cheobawn to get on home. By the time they reached the Pack Hall, she started to relax a little.
    Phillius, Mora’s Third Prime, sat dozing behind the desk in the common room. He opened one eye as they entered. The appearance of Cheobawn in the group wiped the bored expression from his face. He sat up abruptly, a half uttered oath on his lips.
    Tam planted himself in front of the desk and opened his mouth to say something. Phillius stopped him with a look and a wave of his hand. Tam pressed his lips together tensely and waited as the Third Prime touched the comscreen in