Necessity's Child (Liaden Universe®) Read Free Page B

his thumb. “Whatever dispute exists between the Folk of the Tree and those who oppose them has flowed past us. The new order imposed upon the streets by the kompani of Bosses likewise flows past the Bedel, barely dampening our boots.”
    He snapped a firestick with the hand not occupied with his pipe, held the flame to the bowl and drew. Kezzi smelled bark and cherry as the smoke wafted past, and smiled.
    “We have been twice fortunate,” the headman continued, when the pipe was going to his satisfaction. “Will we be three times unfortunate?”
    Kezzi held her breath, and put her hand flat on Malda’s side as she leaned forward to hear better. Any question of the kompani ’s fortune was serious—and doubly so when it came from the headman, who held their future in his hands.
    Silence from the luthia while she considered this weighty question. Alosha smoked his pipe, and kept his own silence.
    Kezzi had counted to nine, taking and exhaling a deep breath between each number, when at last Silain spoke.
    “First, we must be certain of our position,” she said. “Good fortune may approach the Bedel at this time because the kompani has already hosted her fair sister. Can you, headman, recall any recent unlucky events?”
    “ Luthia , I cannot. Song and dream bring me no more than waking memory. We have long been fortunate; the last great distress upon us was the collapse of the second retreat tunnel. Thus, I bring the matter to you, whose memory is longer, whose eyes are sharper, than my own.”
    That last part—that was a Proper Asking, and in truth, the luthia had the longest memory of any in the kompani . Her eyes were sharp enough, for her age, but that was great—she had been a child, had Silain, when the kompani commenced its chafurma.
    Kezzi gasped, snatching again at her wandering thoughts— focus !
    “ . . . I will dream on this. Since the Bedel wander, as is our heritage and our right, it may be well for the headman to convene an Affirmation.”
    Kezzi bit her lip. An Affirmation was three days of singing, tale-telling, eating, and dance. A time, said the luthia , for the Bedel to recall what it meant to be of the kompani , and to forget the ways and worries of the gadje —Those Others—among whom they lived, but were apart.
    “I will think upon it,” the headman said, taking his pipe from his mouth and blowing a circle of smoke. He rose with that, and gave the luthia her proper salute. “ Luthia , I thank you for the gift of your wisdom,” he said, and went away across the common area, toward his own place.
    Kezzi sat back and sighed out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.
    “Little sister,” the luthia said from the hearthside. “Come and share tea with me.”
    * * *
    There was music in the hallway.
    Syl Vor stopped with his hand on the bannister, listening.
    He had just come in from the garden, and it was time to go upstairs and do his prep work for tomorrow’s lessons. But the music . . . it pulled him somehow, down two stairs, to the hall, and down the hall, to the library door.
    Which was closed.
    Syl Vor took a breath, the music tugging at him. The door was closed; he hadn’t been invited in. He had work to do upstairs, he was already late, and—
    The music crashed, soared; the door opened to his touch, and he was inside the library.
    Uncle Val Con was standing at the desk, his shoulder to the door, his hands working the keys of the omnichora, and the music . . .
    Impossibly, the music soared higher, sounding . . . angry, and joy-filled, and sad, all at once. It pulled at his chest, and he was sure that if he opened his mouth, his heart would fly out and up, tangled in the music, taken by the turbulent air, and never be found, or seen again.
    Uncle Val Con leaned into the ’chora, and the music screamed . Syl Vor jammed his fist against his mouth, and then—
    It was like the music spun, and caught a downdraft, circling down, back down to Uncle Val Con, through his