Green Comet

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Sage learns more about her glider. This is a longer chapter.

Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying this. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Eighteen – The Professor

Sage was looking down at the sack in her hands, and at her feet below it, when Digger stepped in front of her, giving her a slight bump. Before she could look up, she felt a sharp tug on the sack, almost tearing it from her hands. She instinctively clutched it to her and managed to hold on to it, though it got torn in the process. When she did look up, she saw someone stagger and run away, Digger trotting a few steps after him. The people around them stopped for a moment to look, then went on with their business.

Digger trotted back to her, glancing at the sack. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Finding her voice, Sage said, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She looked at him, then at the sack, examining the tear. It was small, and the sack would still hold the glider. She would have to sew it before she gave it back to Skylight, though. She looked at Digger again. “Was he trying to steal it?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s lucky I spotted him in time.”

“I didn’t even see him,” she said.

“He was good. He didn’t start running until the last second. I barely had time to try to block him.”

“I didn’t see him,” she said again. She couldn’t believe it. Only yesterday she’d been alert to everything that went on around her, because her life depended on it. Even after she entered the city she had been wary enough to hold off Rat and Snake. But now, after a nice dinner and a safe sleep, she had relaxed so much that she didn’t even notice someone trying to steal her glider. She shook her head and told herself that she wasn’t in her village now. This place was looking as if it was no safer than the terrain she’d covered in the last month. Maybe there weren’t any day runners trying to kill you, but some of the people here were just as dangerous. She said again, “I didn’t even see him.”

“You were distracted,” he said. “You weren’t expecting it.”

That didn’t make her feel any better. She shouldn’t have been distracted. And she knew enough to know that she should expect anything. Until she got this place figured out as well as she knew the prairie, she was going to have to expect anything, any time. That’s what kept her alive out there and that’s what she needed to do to prevent being a victim here. She looked at him, her brow firm and her eyes sharp. She said, “It won’t happen again,” and started walking, her sharp eyes looking at everything.

Seeing her face, Digger could believe it. He hoped that no one else tried anything, because they might end up with a knife in them, instead of a harmless bump. That wouldn’t upset him much, but he didn’t feel like wasting time on the ensuing trouble. When people stabbed each other, the police tended to get nosy, and Digger didn’t need that. He caught up and walked alongside her, alert for anything. If anyone came at them, he wanted to intercept them before they got within her range.

Luckily for everyone involved, no one tried anything, and in less than an hour they got where they were going. They had reached the center of the city, where the tallest buildings were, but their destination was a cluster of lower structures enclosed by a wall. The gate was attended by what appeared to be yet another acquaintance of Digger’s, and a few minutes of friendly chatting got them in.

Once inside, Digger set out as if he knew where he was going, but Sage stopped to look. When he came back to her, she said, “What is this place?”

They were in a rectangular area enclosed by buildings five to fifteen meters high. The enclosed area looked to be a couple of hectares, mostly covered by grass that looked as green as new shoots. Sage immediately stepped off the stony path and sank her feet into the lush growth, releasing a small groan of pleasure.

“Uh,” said Digger, looking around, “they don’t like that.”

“What?”

“Walking on the grass. That’s only for the big shots.”

Sage looked at the expanse of green and said, “What’s the point of it, then?” She stepped back onto the path.

“I’m not sure,” he said, “but only professors and up are allowed. The rest of us have to use the path.”

“Makes them feel important, I guess,” she said, shrugging. Then she said, “Professors?”

“Oh, right, of course. Professors are teachers. This is a university.” Seeing her blank look, he said, “A university is a place where people go to learn, and the professors teach them.”

Understanding lit her face. “I get it,” she said. “Everyone comes here to learn.” She looked around, impressed. “Is that why you brought me here? To learn? You said I had a lot to learn.”

He saw his mistake. “No. Not everyone can come here. There’s not enough room for that many people.”

She nodded. “Okay. I get it. So they only pick the smartest people. Teach the people who can get the most out of it.” She kept nodding. “Where do I go to find out if I’m smart enough?”

He bit down on his surprised laughter. “It’s not for the smartest people, Sage. It’s for the people with the most money.”

“Money?” She pictured the coins in his hand, and tried to imagine how they related to learning. Finally she shrugged and said, “I guess I need to get some money, then.”

He didn’t bother trying to tell her how futile that would be. He just said, “Right. Let’s go see Professor Tailor.”

They walked all the way around the grass to a door that was almost directly opposite where they were. While he knocked on the door, she looked across the forbidden shortcut and shook her head. The door opened and she saw a young man carrying a small satchel of books. He glanced at them with undisguised contempt, and called back over his shoulder, “Are you expecting any workers, Professor?”

A voice from within said, “I’m expecting them. Let them in.”

The young man was surprised, but he said, “Very well, Professor. I’ll see you next week.” Then he brushed by them, leaving the door open.

They stood, uncertain, then the voice said, “Well, don’t stand there letting the flies in. Come in and shut the door.”

Inside was a large foyer, its generous windows letting in plenty of light. Immediately to the right was a staircase leading to a second floor. Straight ahead across the foyer was a wall with a single door. To their left was an open door with a man standing in it. “Come along,” he said, backing into the room beyond.

They crossed the foyer, Sage looking down at the shining wooden floor. Now she saw why they might not like iron shoes indoors, and placed her rubber ones carefully so as not to leave any marks.

In the room, the Professor was standing beside a desk that was littered with papers. They stopped in front of the desk and Digger said, “Professor Tailor, this is Sage, the young woman I told you about.”

“Ah, yes,” said the Professor. “The one with the artifact.” He gestured her forward. “Come along,” he said, “let’s see it.”

With a glance at Digger, Sage stepped forward and handed him the sack. He slipped out the glider, dropping the sack on the floor. He gazed at the thing in his hands and, without looking up, said, “The money is on the desk. Thank you. You may go.” His eyes were shining.

Digger looked at her and shrugged, then stepped to the desk and picked up the money. It must have been right because he made no objection, only turning to go. He was halfway to the door before he realized that she wasn’t moving. “Sage?” he said. “Are you coming?”

She was looking at the Professor. She ignored Digger and kept staring until the Professor looked up.

He said, “Are you still here? You must leave now. I have work to do.” He moved behind his desk.

Sage moved up to stand where he’d been, beside his desk. “I’m not ready to leave yet,” she said. “We haven’t finished our business.”

“Yes we have,” he said, unconsciously holding the glider close. “You’ve taken the money.”

“No we haven’t. Digger, put the money back.”

“Sage?” he said, but she crossed her arms and didn’t take her eyes off the Professor and her glider, so he stepped up and put the money back.

“That means nothing,” said the Professor. “We had a deal, and he took the money.”

“That’s fine,” said Sage, “but the glider wasn’t his to sell.”

He looked at her now. If he had thought he was dealing with a naive girl, he could see that this was a competent young woman standing in front of him. Still clutching the glider, he said, “What do you want? How much?”

She paused uncertainly. She thought about what to say. What did she want? She didn’t know, but she knew what she didn’t want. After what it had put her through, she didn’t want to part ways with her glider. Not yet, anyway. Finally she said, “I’m not sure. I haven’t been here long enough to know what your money is worth. I just know that I don’t want to sell it. Not here. Not now.”

“But my studies,” he said. “My research. My work.”

“I’m not saying I won’t sell it,” she said, reaching her hands out for it. “It must be worth something. People have tried to steal it twice already.”

His face lit up. “Leave it here with me. It will be safe here.”

“Maybe it will,” she said, “but I don’t know you well enough to say for sure.” Her hands were still outstretched. “Digger has told me that city people only care what’s in it for them.”

Digger and the Professor both protested at the same time. Digger said, “I didn’t say everybody.” And the Professor said, “I care about my research. Very important research.”

Sage let her hands drop and said, “Maybe we can work out some kind of arrangement.” She looked at his hopeful, almost eager face. “Maybe I can bring it around for you to work on.”

His face fell, but not all the way. This might be better than losing it all together. He said, “What would you expect in return?”

She thought about it. She looked around the office. “Is this where you do your research?”

“No,” he said. “That’s done in the laboratory.”

“Laboratory?”

“Yes.” He looked back and forth between them. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” said Sage.

“Follow me, then.” he said, trying to step out around his desk.

Sage held out her hands again. “I’ll take care of that,” she said.

Slowly and very reluctantly he passed it to her. Then he said, “This way,” and led them out of the room. In the foyer he turned left and headed for the door in the back wall. The blanket he was wearing was black and shiny, and it hung down almost to the floor. Even in the few steps across the foyer it swept backwards. He opened the door and stepped in ahead of them, holding it for them to enter.

Sage stepped in and moved sideways, and Digger moved up beside her. Together they stared at the unfamiliar sight. They saw workbenches, at least one sink, bottles and flasks, and any number of things that they couldn’t identify in the dim illumination. Professor Tailor flicked a switch on the wall beside the door and the bright overhead lights came on. Now Sage could see something she could identify, and she walked toward it.

“Be careful!” said the Professor, rushing to catch up. “Don’t touch anything.”

They reached a bench at the back of the room, and lying on it was another glider just like hers. No, not just like hers. The engraving on the back was different. Hers had a large circle with two smaller ones embedded in it. This one had a circle in the middle with a larger circle scribed around it. On the large circle there was a smaller one, as if it were orbiting the one in the middle. She was thinking about that when she felt her glider vibrate. This was unlike the vibrations she felt when she talked, and which the Professor must have felt, too. She wondered if his would vibrate when she talked.

She put her hand on it, heedless of his protests, and said, “You already have a glider.” She was right. It vibrated. But it also had another fainter vibration, just like the one she was holding. She took her hand off the Professor’s glider and stepped back, to his great relief. Hers stopped vibrating. With subtle movements she determined that the limit was about two meters. When they were within two meters of each other, they vibrated.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve had it for about ten years.” He reached out and adjusted it minutely, squaring it with the workbench.

“What is it?” asked Sage. She hefted hers. “What are they?”

He spread his hands. “I don’t know,” he said. “Oh, I’ve learned a few things about it, such as weight, specific gravity, and so on. And I’ve shared data with other scientists around the world …”

“There are more of these?”

“Yes. A handful all told.” He looked at hers. “With that one, I would be the only person with more than one.”

“That would be worth a lot to you, I guess.”

He saw what he’d done, giving her power over him, and he clearly considered denying it before shrugging and saying, “Yes. But the important thing is the research, and the possibility of more data.”

Sage looked at him for a long time. She didn’t like him very much so far. He was a little too interested in what he wanted and a little too dismissive of everything else. But she liked that he didn’t try to hide how much it meant to him, just for a bit of bargaining advantage. She made up her mind. “Okay,” she said. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll keep my glider, but I’ll bring it to you to study.”

He was both disappointed and relieved. “And in return?”

“In return I will work with you and you will teach me.”

He was shocked. All he could manage was, “What?” He didn’t see Digger stifling a surprised laugh.

“Digger tells me that professors teach people, but only if they have enough money,” said Sage, holding up a hand to stem their protests. “I don’t have enough money, but I want to learn, so this is how I’ll do it.”

The Professor closed his mouth and swallowed, then he nodded slowly. “All right,” he said. “I guess we can do that.”

“And you’ll need to pay me,” said Sage. “I’m going to need money, I think.” Digger walked over to the other side of the laboratory, apparently very interested in something there. If you looked closely, you could see his shoulders shaking.

The Professor didn’t say anything this time. Just nodded.

“And,” said Sage, “I’m going to need a place to stay. Somewhere close to here so I don’t have to carry the glider too far. The next person who tries to steal it isn’t going to be so lucky, and I really don’t want to hurt anyone.”

The Professor looked over at Digger, who seemed to be having a coughing fit, then back at Sage, who was smiling nicely. He felt the beginnings of his own smile and was surprised to realize that this was a young woman he could learn to like. “I do have an allowance for paying assistants,” he said. “And there’s a room upstairs here that you can use, at least for now.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said.

“Very good,” said the Professor. “Now, as to your education, would you like to start now?”

“Perfect,” said Sage, handing him her glider.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Sage gets shoes and sets off to sell her glider.

Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying this. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Seventeen – New Shoes

Exhausted though she was, Sage had trouble falling asleep. She used the flashlight to arrange some blankets on the floor – there was no straw – then switched it off immediately. Fisher had told her not to leave it on, because that would waste the batteries. She guessed that the batteries must be what made the light, in place of fire. She pushed the button a few times, marveling at how that could give her light so easily, then used it only enough to get settled. After that she spent what felt like hours lying in the dark, not falling asleep.

The darkness was complete, with not even the faintest line to show where the door was. She had to consciously blink her eyes to tell if they were open or closed. Especially the side eyes. It was in this strangeness, in a black room in a stranger’s house in the still-mysterious city, that Sage spent her wakefulness thinking about her predicament. Tomorrow Digger, a man she hardly knew, was going to take her out in this strange place and try to “find her something.” Also, they were going to get her some shoes. She had Skylight’s assurance that it was an easy and painless procedure, and also for the best. She said it would keep her feet from getting sore. Flexing them and feeling the residual ache, Sage decided that would be a good thing.

One thing in particular occupied her mind. Her glider had attracted so much attention that her curiosity was inflamed. What made it so interesting? What made it valuable? Even valuable enough to kill her for. And another thing above all. She’d had no idea of its existence until it fell out of the sky, but everyone here seemed to know all about it.

She was mulling all these things in endless circularity when she finally dropped off. She felt as if she hadn’t slept at all when she was awakened by knocking on the door.

“Just a minute,” she said, getting up and feeling her way to the door. She started to open it, then went back and groped around for a blanket. She threw it on and, suitably covered for city eyes, opened the door. Squinting in the bright morning light, she was able to make out Digger standing there.

He said, “You shouldn’t open your door until you know who’s there. If I wanted to rob you, it would be all over now.”

She cleared her throat and spat in the street, then she said, “But you don’t want to rob me, do you?”

“No, of course not.” He glanced at her spit, then told her, “It’s okay to spit here, but barely. Some people might not like it, but enough people do it to make it okay.” He waved an arm toward the center of the city. “Some of the streets we’ll be on today are a little more upscale, and it won’t be okay there.”

She looked at him for a few seconds, then said, “Wear your blanket. Don’t spit. Is there anything else I should know before showing my face in your precious city?”

“Whoa,” he said. “Are you always this grumpy in the morning? And yes, there are plenty more things you need to learn.”

“Grumpy?” she said, anger flaring. She cut it off. She knew she owed him gratitude, not anger, for what he’d done. “Sorry,” she said. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Don’t worry about it. After what you’ve been through, you’re entitled to a little leeway.” He looked at her sternly. “But just a little. Some of the places we’re going today, they’re not going to give you any. All they care about is what’s in it for them.”

She nodded. She’d grown accustomed to a world that gives you no leeway. She’d survived that, and she could surely survive a few city people. She headed for Skylight’s kitchen. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll get cleaned up and we can head out.”

“Sage,” he said. When she looked, he tipped his head at the open door.

“Oh, my ancestors,” she said, and went to get the key.

They were back on the same street they met on yesterday. The difference this morning was that Sage wasn’t carrying her panniers, or her spear. She was going to take her spear, but Digger told her people don’t do that in the city. She shrugged and left it, and now here she was all fresh and fed and feeling better, and they were headed in toward the center of town where the taller buildings were. But before they even reached the next cross street, or before they’d gone one block, as Digger put it, they stopped in at the farrier’s recommended by Skylight.

Feeling extremely awkward, especially when he was working on her hind feet, his breath on her haunches, Sage listened while he talked her through it.

“We caught it in time,” he was saying. “There’s no serious damage. No cracking or splitting.” He patted her haunch, causing her to stiffen. “We’ll have you fixed up and out of here in no time.” He rubbed his hands together. “So,” he said, “iron or rubber?”
She looked at Digger, and he said, “Rubber, Hammer.” Then to Sage, “Iron lasts longer, but it’s for heavy duty use, and I don’t think you’re going to be doing that kind of work. Rubber wears out quicker, but it gives you better traction. Also, it’s better for indoors. Some people don’t like iron shoes in their houses, marking up their floors.”

Hammer started with her front feet – “So you can see what I’m doing.” – and she stood there, clutching the sack containing her glider while he pounded nails into her feet. After the first flinch, she was all right. It didn’t hurt. It actually felt kind of nice. The way he gently but firmly cradled her feet as he worked on them made her feel … Well, she admitted to herself, the attention … She had never had someone pay this kind of attention to her feet before. When it was over and he was done filing and buffing her hooves, she found that she was disappointed.

As they were leaving and she was thanking Hammer, she surprised herself with how shyly she spoke to him. Then he winked at her and said, “It was a pleasure, dearie. Come back any time.”

She stumbled out onto the street, feeling the strange new detachment in her feet. She picked them up and down, turning in a circle while she stared at her shiny new hooves. She stomped experimentally, enjoying the sense of protection her new shoes gave her. Even the sound was different, the clattering a lot more muted.

Digger smiled indulgently and waited.

“He didn’t even ask me what I had to trade,” said Sage as they walked. She continually looked down at her feet as they lifted and fell.

“Don’t worry. Hammer and I have an arrangement.”

“Another one of the people you helped before?”

He nodded. “That’s right. Otherwise we’d have had to pay him.”

“What would he have taken in trade?” Sage couldn’t think of anything she had that would be appropriate.

“We’d have given him money,” said Digger. “There’s not much barter any more.”

“Money?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling some coins out of a pocket in his grey blanket. “When we buy and sell things, we use these. They’re kind of like tokens, with different values.”

“So, you’d have given him those in return for putting these shoes on me? That doesn’t seem very even.”

“It wouldn’t be, if it was a straight trade. But he can take the money then and buy other stuff.”

They walked quietly while she thought, then she said, “Ah! The money. Those tokens. They’re always worth the same. And everyone agrees on what they’re worth.”

“That’s right.” He was impressed by how quickly she got it.

“And a lot easier to carry around, too,” she said. “Where can I get some of this money?”

He laughed. “There’s work,” he said. “You work for someone and they pay you. Or you could do like Rat and Snake and steal people’s stuff to sell for money. Or you could sell something valuable of your own, which is what we’re going to try to do today.”
“Something valuable of mine?” She looked down at the sack holding her glider and stopped dead.

He stopped beside her and said, “You need money to get started, and that’s a valuable item. I think we can get you a good price for it.”

“But it’s …” she started. “It’s my glider.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading.

He was firm. “It’s the only thing you’ve got that’s worth anything.” He paused. “Well, maybe except for that necklace.” He ignored the shocked look on her face. “And you might get something for that spear.” Her eyes got even wider. “But the point is you have to sell something, and I might have a buyer for it.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “What else are you going to do with it? Carry it around everywhere?”

She stood for a long time, then her face set hard. “Right,” she said, hefting the sack, “let’s go sell my glider.”

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Sage gets a meal and a bed.

Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying this. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Sixteen – Dinner

Dinner was good. In spite of her misgivings, Skylight was a good host, as was her husband, Fisher. Their son Star was also good. He was polite and hardly stared at Sage at all. For a boy his age, that is. He was about half her age – just about to leave true childhood and enter that transition phase before adulthood – and she remembered how she and her friends were then. When a stranger came to the village, they stared unabashedly, but Star was making an obvious effort to not do so.

Sage was impressed and thought she would make an effort, too. “This is nice,” she said. “Thank you.”

Skylight just nodded, chewing, but Fisher said, “You’re welcome. We’re glad to help.” Star watched, alert.

“This is more than simple help,” said Sage. “Taking a stranger into your nice home.”

Fisher said, “Whenever Digger needs us, we’ll be here.”

Sage wondered if he was aware of what his wife had been saying earlier, but she didn’t ask. She did say, “Digger seems like an interesting man. How did you meet him?”

In the silence, Fisher and Star were looking at Skylight, and she was frowning at her food. Sage felt the discomfort acutely, and tried to ease it. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s none of my business.”

Skylight nodded, but Fisher said, “It’s all right, Sage.” Then to his wife he said, “It’s okay, Sky. It’s your story and it’s all part of what makes me love you.”

Skylight looked at him and her expression softened, but she still said, “It’s not my story any more. That’s the past, and it can stay there.”

“Aw, Mom,” said Star. “I never get to hear.”

“Come on, Sky,” said Fisher. “The boy deserves to hear, and so does Sage. Your stories are so much alike.”

“But it’s not fair to you, Fish.”

“Never mind that,” he said. “It’s the story that brought you to me, so it’s a good story.”

Sage saw Star looking at his father. She saw the pride. When their eyes met across the table, she smiled at him. He got flustered, but he was smiling too.

Skylight was quiet, looking at her food again. Finally she nodded. “Okay,” she said, and started her story.

Skylight’s story was like Sage’s, in that they’d both left their villages and come to the city. Unlike Sage though, Skylight hadn’t been banished. She had left voluntarily. She was young and in love, and she ran away with her lover, Starlight. They were going to the city, looking for freedom and excitement. Like Sage, they followed a river, which joined hers just above the waterfall.

“But then he went and got himself killed,” said Skylight, fighting tears with anger. “He was protecting me from a day runner, and it killed him, and …”

Fisher picked it up for her. “They were almost here by then. Sky doesn’t have much memory of the last two days, but somehow she survived and made it. Digger found her and took care of her, then we met and that was the happiest day of my life. Then Star came along and our family was perfect.”

“So you’re not from the villages?”

“No. From down the coast. I wasn’t making a living fishing down there, so I came here.”

“You didn’t end up in the slum.”

“No. It wasn’t this bad then. I was able to find work, and I was doing all right.” His face clouded. “Some people tried to take advantage of me, but I got the advantage of them instead.” He smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant. “That’s when I changed my name to Fisher. Not long before we met.” He smiled at Skylight, much more pleasantly.

Sage looked at Star, who was looking at his parents with wide, shining eyes. She thought of his name, and of the name of Skylight’s lover: Starlight. She didn’t know it was showing in her face, and she was flustered when Fisher spoke.

“I see you’re wondering about the timing,” he said. He waved her down when she protested. “We’re not certain who is Star’s father. It could be me, or it could be Starlight. We’ve never done anything to find out. It’s not important to me. I couldn’t love him any more than I do.” He nodded at the love in the eyes of his family. “I insisted that we name Star after Starlight, because without him I wouldn’t have the two people who mean more to me than, well, any of that.”

Everyone ate quietly for a while, then Sage said, “Fisher is right, Skylight. Our stories are a lot alike.”

“Other than the fact that you did it alone,” said Skylight.

“You were alone for a while, too.”

“Oh sure, a couple of days. How long did you say you went?”

“About a month,” Sage answered.

Skylight nodded. “And that necklace you were wearing. Day flier talons, weren’t they? You didn’t just find those, did you?”

“Well, no,” said Sage. “I had to kill a day flier.”

Star was looking at her, mouth open, eyes wide. Skylight said, “Had to kill a day flier, eh? Only the one?”

“Yes,” said Sage. She pointed at her ears, both with the scars of day flier attacks. “It kept coming after me, so I had to make it stop. Killing it was the only way I could think of.”

They were quiet, to let her go on, and she realized it was her turn to tell her story. So she told them how she killed the big flier, and how it broke her spear. How she didn’t want to have to keep repairing it, so she learned how to scare them off. How she took the talons and the beak, both to honor her dead adversary, and for some more primitive reason that she didn’t really understand yet. She explained why she felt she had to eat a bit of each day runner she had to kill. She told them about all the fish she ate, and about meeting the traders. She made them laugh when she said how she challenged the big one. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said.

Chuckling, Fisher said, “You were near the end of your string. You must have been by then. But Tiny’s too stupid to notice something like that.”

“Tiny?” said Sage. “You know him?”

“Yes,” said Fisher. “Well, I mostly know Street. He’s a good man, as long as you don’t cross him.”

“He seemed all right to me, once things settled down.”

“He is all right, as long as you’re on his good side. From the sounds of things, I’d guess you are.”

“He said he knew my father, and respected him.”

“That’s okay then, but not enough by itself. If he likes you, it’s because he respects you, not your father.” He watched that sink in, then said, “He’s the only one Tiny will listen to. It’s lucky for you he was out on Street’s crew, and not someone else’s.”

“Or lucky for him,” said Sage, before she caught herself.

He laughed. “Or him,” he agreed.

After a brief silence, Skylight said, “There’s another difference in our stories, Sage. I went for love and adventure. Why did you leave your village?”

The silence became sharply deeper, and it was suddenly uncomfortable around the table. Star looked around with wide, uncertain eyes. Sage realized, to her surprise, that she felt shame. She felt tongue-tied by it. Even though she knew in her own mind that the elders had banished her not because she deserved it, but for superstition, she still felt shame. She pushed it down and stood up straighter. Clearly, she said, “I was banished.”

Star was shocked. His mother was from a village and he had heard her stories. Her village also banished people, and in the stories they always deserved it. He moved closer to her and she put a comforting hand on him.

Sage looked down, not meeting their eyes. She prepared to leave the table, only hoping that they would still let her use the little room to sleep in. She could leave tomorrow and find somewhere else, if anyone would have her. She was stopped by Fisher’s voice.

“Banished for what?” he asked.

Sage just wanted to leave, but she told them the story of the glider. She told them how it came down out of the sky, and how, when she told them, the elders banished her for it. She waited for them to kick her out of their home.

“That’s typical,” said Fisher. “Villages tend to be very superstitious places.”

“That’s right,” said Skylight, patting Star reassuringly. “Narrow, closed minds. Believe me, I know.”

Sage looked up to see them smiling at her. Even Star was smiling, with plenty of glances at his parents to be sure they still were.

Skylight said, “I saw that glider on your pack. You’re pretty brave to carry something like that in the open. There are plenty of people who would try to take it away from you.”

“Some of them did,” said Sage. “Digger showed up before I had to hurt them.”

They didn’t question her statement or assume that it was an empty boast. They didn’t doubt that she could have hurt them if she had to. “Lucky for them,” said Fisher.

“Digger said they would have killed me if they had to.”

“He’s right,” said Fisher. “They probably would have. Or tried anyway.” He grinned at her. “I wouldn’t have liked their chances.”

Sage grinned back and everything was okay again. They finished dinner, spiced with good conversation, until she had to plead exhaustion. Before she left Skylight told her about a good farrier who could put shoes on her, and Fisher gave her something called a flashlight. He also walked her to her room and stayed until she was safely inside, the door securely locked.