The Farthest Seeking by Gayle Greeno

Author:Gayle Greeno [Greeno, Gayle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2010-03-01T07:00:00+00:00

PART FOUR

“Doyce! Glad you’re finally back!” Davvy McNaught fumbled to unwind the long tail of a fantastically varicolored stocking cap from around his neck, where it also served as a scarf. For a long moment Doyce seriously considered strangling him with it, so frustrated did she feel. “Jenret! Welcome! Did you all have a good time? Good weather?”

“Give him a moment,” Khar advised. “He’s just rushed over from the hospice. Let him draw a breath or two—and then you can strangle him.” Khar’s glare never wavered from Sh‘ar, compulsively washing and rewashing his face with first one paw, then the other, adamantly refusing to meet her eyes. “I’ll be occupied ripping off Sh’ar’s whiskers—one by one.”

“Allow me to assist you after that,” Rawn growled.

Per‘la, perched on the arm of the settee beside her Bond Parse, attempted to restore peace with ever-sweet reason-ability. “We did what we thought best at the time.” “And with the best intentions in the world,” interjected T’ss, her boon companion. “A joint promise,” Per’la continued smoothly, peridot eyes imploring Doyce, “to let you enjoy a worry-free haliday, ensure that ghatti and human alike weren’t constantly plagued by petty problems that could be handled without involving you.”

“And you call this a petty problem?” Rawn had been unobtrusively easing toward Sh‘ar, prepared to trounce the larger, much younger ghatt within a whisker’s-breadth of his life, but the coal-black ghatt now wheeled to glare at two of his oldest friends. If Doyce and Jenret felt betrayed on all sides, it was clear that he and Khar felt equally so.

Unbuttoning Doyce’s jacket and stripping her of it as if she were as young and as needful of help as Byrlie, Lindy pursed her mouth sympathetically, her expression hedged by only the faintest hint of repentance. Sympathy was the last thing Doyce wanted, though she wouldn’t mind a hint of repentance on Lindy’s part, somebody’s part! What she wanted was facts! Not half a fact here, another there, two halves that never equaled a whole!

“Doyce, please! We all meant it for the best … it … well, it sort of grew out of the aftermath of your going-away party.” Lindy’s eyes were downcast now, but Doyce distrusted the way her mouth quirked, as if her longtime friend, the twins’ first nursemaid, found the situation humorous. Clutching Doyce’s jacket, Lindy heaved a sigh. “Well, the word spread … mushroomed, really … and Resonants and Seekers alike thought it was a capital idea. And it was,” she insisted, taking the end of Doyce’s scarf and tugging to remove it. “Of course, being winter, things had to snowball …” Parse gave a crow of delight; his carroty-red hair, full of winter static, floating in a nimbus around his head.

Easy enough for her to remain impassive, not when she couldn’t find even a spark of humor in Lindy’s comments. They all sat or stood in a shamefaced tableau around Lindy’s neat but homey parlor: the Seeker General Berne Terborgh and Sh‘ar; Jenret’s mother, Damaris Wycherley

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