Awakeners 02: Southshore by Tepper Sheri S

Author:Tepper, Sheri S. [Tepper, Sheri S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Novel
ISBN: 9780575116184
Publisher: Gollancz
Published: 1987-01-29T02:00:00+00:00

From Thrasne’s book

19

At Isle Point, the house of Saleff squatted beneath a grove of stout trees with ruddy-amber leaves that filtered golden light into the rooms and onto the many porches where Saleff’s kin moved about like orderly ghosts. Medoor Babji was at first amused by and then solicitous of the silence.

‘We have a habit of quiet,’ Salef’s mother, Sterf, told her. ‘Originally adopted, I’m sure, out of rebellion against the cacophony of the Thraish. Later it became our own, particularly satisfying trait. The children tend to be a bit loud, of course, and must learn to go into the woods or out on a boat if they wish to shout or yodel or whatever it is they do.’

There were three children in the house, three young ones, at first alike as puncon fruit in Medoor’s eyes, each then acquiring a mysterious individuality that she found difficult to define. Mintel was the serious one, the quietest. Cimmy was graceful, with a lovely voice. Taneff was the most delightful, curious, always present, full of whispered questions, ready to run quick errands, even without being asked. The three soon named her Cindianda, which meant in their language, they said, ‘little dark human person.’ Medoor Babji thought they might be fibbing to her, that the name might mean something very disrespectful, though Sterf assured her not.

‘How old are they?’ she asked, watching them cross the clearing with amazement. They moved like darting dancers, lithe as windblown grass.

‘Oh, just fifteen,’ Sterf said, a little wrinkle coming between the large orbs of her eyes. It was one of the things that made Treeci so like humans, the way their faces wrinkled around the eyes. If one looked only at the eyes, not at the flat, flexible horn of their beaks, they could have been humans in disguise, got up for some festival or other. ‘Just fifteen.’ There was something vaguely disquieting in her tone, and Medoor Babji thought back to everything Pamra had told her about the Treeci. Hadn’t there been something? She shook her head, unable to remember. During that time Pamra Don and Medoor Babji had known one another – a misnomer of sorts, Medoor felt, since she did not feel she knew Pamra Don at all – Medoor had been so busy wondering what it was about Pamra that held Thrasne in such thrall she had paid too little attention to what Pamra had said.

‘Trial and error,’ she murmured to herself, being contrite. When Queen Fibji learned how many times Medoor Babji had remembered that particular lesson on this trip, she would no doubt be greatly gratified.

Also in the house was the mother of the young ones, Arbsen, who was also Sterf’s daughter and Saleff’s nest sister. Of them all, Arbsen was the most silent, the most withdrawn. Some days she sat on one of the porches, her eyes following the children, broodingly intent. Other days went by during which Medoor Babji did not see her at all. She seemed to spend a great deal of time shut up in her own room at the top of the house, carving things.

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