Windrunner's Daughter Read Free Page A

chosen. He lifted the bulb slowly, his big hand obscuring the colour. Wren leaned forward, her breath solid in her lungs. Then his fingers opened. He held black.
    “Five of six, a clear majority, we don’t need Win to tie-break.” Tee dropped her chain back onto her breast. “Vote’s against yer Runner girl. Now get out.”
    “But -”
    “The decision’s been made and recorded.” Hawkins was tapping on a sticky keyboard.
    Wren clenched her fists. “At least tell me where he is.”
    “Meeting people a lot more important than you.”
    Wren backed out, her blood roaring like thunder in her ears. She wouldn’t turn her back on them. She flayed the Councillors with her eyes until the door slid closed on the chamber; then her shoulders sagged. What had she expected - that they’d just allow her to use the communicator?
    Maybe this was better: she should have asked Win himself to make the request in the first place. She would wait at his door for as long as it took him to come home.
    Wren ran past the trees and under the bunting, weaving through stinking shafts of recycled air. She saw hardly anyone. After first worship ended, Kiernan’s Day was a family occasion. Warily, she approached the gaping gateway of the large property at the far West edge of the Dome. There she made an effort to slow to a walk, but her knees shook and threatened to tip her forward. She grabbed the gatepost, which was almost as tall as she was, and caught sight of Win. The old man was standing in the garden, speaking earnestly with two Senior Technicians and a uniformed Green-man. The three were gesticulating widely, their voices angry.
    “We haven’t had a Runner in for three weeks and Tir Na Nog haven’t yet replied to our hails-”
    “Yet you can see that we are managing perfectly well. The seedlings have taken, we have samples of the last set of drugs being reproduced, so why do we need them? I say we cut ties-”
    “Cut ties! What about the baby exchange? Genetic diversity is-”
    “We can manage four more generations before inbreeding becomes any sort of problem.”
    “And what then?”
    “By then the Runners will be under our control.”
    “It’s true that they have too much power over trade and distribution … great hells Win, what’s that supposed to be?” The youngest of the Technicians had spotted her.
    Wren’s ears were ringing; she staggered into the garden where chunks of rocks and coloured dirt formed patterns around the pathway. “You can’t be serious?”
    “How much did you hear?” Win flew forwards, his jacket billowing. Boney, like a wing-stand, he loomed over her, and long fingers on spidery hands grabbed her wrists.
    “You can’t be considering cutting ties with the other Nine colonies!”
    “This doesn’t concern you.”
    “I’m a Runner .”
    Win sneered. “Whatever you are, you’re not a Councillor, you’ve heard a tiny piece of a long discussion and drawn your own conclusions. More importantly, you’re derelict in your duty. Why are you here, instead of at the Runner-sphere waiting to service incoming Runners? No landings have been reported.” He cocked his head, silently demanding an explanation.
    “I-” Wren drew herself up, but Win refused to release her, twisting her wrists painfully, so that she had to hunch to keep them straight. She stared as his scornful face, a weathered parody of her mother’s, curved into disdainful lines.
    Then, as if bored, he shoved her to one side. “Go back to Avalon, Wren, and tell no-one what you heard.” He began to stride towards the house.
    Wren chased after him. “But Grandfather, I need to talk to you.”
    When he turned and she saw his face, she faltered.
    “Don’t call me that. I’m no Runner relation.” The old man’s eyes flickered. “How could your mother let you come to the ‘sphere looking like that?” He marched towards her and pinched her elbow. “Wild. Uneducated. Useless to the colony. You’re an embarrassment.”
    “I’m