The house dripped in shadows, the flickering light from the oil lamp dancing in dappled spots across the corridor through the open doorway. Georgianna sat on the floor, her back against the corner of the doorframe, watching the specks and flames of light across the sandstone. It had been a long time since she’d heard one of her father’s stories, but the moment he’d begun telling it, Georgianna could remember it in its entirety.
Halden was out, working long hours again, so the task of putting Braedon to bed had fallen to her own father, as did storytelling. As Georgianna was home so infrequently compared to her brother and father, Braedon had quickly demanded that Georgianna be the one to tell him a story, but she had managed to talk him out of it. Her tales were far too dull, and didn’t always have happy endings. It was better to have a tale from his Grandda’, who was experienced in such things. Her father had scowled and smacked the back of her arm for passing the job onto him, but she’d noticed the small smile as he tucked Braedon in, and the look of fond surprise when he moved to sit down and noticed her perched outside the door to listen too.
It was the one about the coyote who found himself trapped in a deep hole. He needed to learn to be nice to those who were different if they were to help him find a way out. Braedon had complained and whined when he couldn’t have the ship story, which was apparently his favourite, but Georgianna knew all too well that the coyote story was the best. It was the longest, which meant you got to stay up longer. For twenty-six years, she had neglected to tell her father that particular reason for requesting it as a child.
She’d considered going back to the tunnels with Taye after their trip into the Adveni quarters, but after seeing Nyah, with the collar fastened around her neck, Georgianna felt the longing for the familiarity of home. Taye was so separated from everyone he considered family, and so she found herself making the long trek through the camps, looking forward to the safe and protected feeling when her father gathered her into his arms.
“Holding on to the head of the snake, they began lowering his long body into the hole.”
Georgianna giggled, quickly covering her mouth so as not to disturb the story. She’d never considered as a child, just how odd it would look for a bear to lower a snake into a hole so that a coyote could climb up the animal like a rope. Her father’s stories, except for the ships, had always been a little strange, and it hadn’t been until she got older that she realised the life lessons in them all.
Resting her head back against the frame, Georgianna closed her eyes, listening to the low rumble of her father’s voice. In fact, she had almost drifted off herself when he stepped over her legs, nudging her shoulder so that he could pull the door closed. Georgianna got to her feet, following him back into the front room where she slumped down onto the thick rug. It was bare in places, and there were some stains that just wouldn’t come out, but it was still more comfortable than the bare floor.
Her father took a seat on his whittling stool, collecting up his knife and a half-finished piece, glancing over at his daughter lying flat on her back staring up at the ceiling.
“You will need your own stories soon, my Gianna,” he said.
Georgianna let out an amused breath, shaking her head.
“Hardly.”
“No, you will. When you are ready to tell them.”
She turned her head, her cheek pressed against the coarse fibres of the wool. Her father didn’t look up, his knife making smooth strokes against the wood, slivers coming off against the blade, floating down onto the floor.
“I don’t think that will be for a while, Da’,” she replied. “I don’t even know if that’s what I want.”
Her father gave a low hum of laughter, and though he didn’t look up, she could see the amusement sparkling in his eyes through the lamplight.
“You’re still a sapling.”
“I’m twenty-six.”
“And still a sapling,” he said. “Your mother was the same.”
Rolling onto her side, Georgianna curled her arm underneath her head, using it as a pillow. Brushing a curl of hair away from her face, she grinned at him.
“She was, what, twenty-one when you had Halden?”
He thought about it for a moment, nodding his head.
“Yes, I suppose she would have been.”
“That’s hardly the same.”
Her father lifted his head, his gaze locking onto her. Leaning to the side, he placed the block down on the floor, resting the knife on top of it, and rested his elbows onto his knees.
“I always knew what I wanted,” he explained. “I wanted a family and a steady life. Your mother, she didn’t know. She was free and adventurous.”
Without warning, her father let out a sad laugh. What had seemed so happy in his eyes only moments before filled with a desolate longing.
“She called me her tether.”
Georgianna blinked as unexpected moisture began collecting in the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t sure whether it was the memory of her mother, who she had missed for such a long time, or the sight of her father missing her so deeply, but even blinking couldn’t keep the tears at bay. Reaching up, she swiped the heel of her hand across her eyes.
“You may not know what you want now, my girl, but one day you will find your tether and it will all fall into place.”
She shook her head, the tears gathering faster than she could brush them away. Blurring her vision, she felt the first drop slip along her lashes and drip down onto her cheek, rolling towards her ear. She pushed herself up, crossing her legs and leaning forward into her lap.
“I don’t want that.” She looked down at her feet. “Not when I can see how much it hurts when it’s gone.”
She heard a slow sigh. Without looking up, she could imagine his look of puzzled concern, brow furrowed, adding even more lines to his worn, tanned skin.
“Nyah was sold.”
“The Wolfe girl? She used to follow you kids around like a pup.”
Georgianna nodded, staring at her fingers while she dug at a crack in her thumbnail. She’d not remembered that, the way Nyah had always followed them around. It probably looked different to her father, the eight-year-old children being trailed by this five-year-old little blonde girl. Taye had adored her, even then, though it had been different that long ago.
“She was arrested a few months ago, and we found out that she was sold as a drysta. Taye’s devastated.”
“Yes, I can imagine he would be. His mother wagered their joining by the time you were, oh, fifteen?”
Georgianna breathed a breath of bittersweet laughter. If anyone had had the traditional plan of joining, it had been Taye and Nyah. They’d been friends longer than any of them could remember, and that bond had grown into something unbreakable as naturally as the grass grew after the wash.
“I’ve never felt that way.”
“Who says you should have? You’re still a sa….”
“Please stop calling me a sapling, Da’!” Georgianna pleaded. “I’m not a sapling.”
Her father frowned back at her, clasping his hands in his lap. He hunched further over his knees, considering her for a moment before he spoke.
“When you were young, I told you that you couldn’t force wood to be a certain way.”
Georgianna nodded.
“Well, wood also cannot tell you what it wants to be when it doesn’t know itself,” he explained. “You are still becoming who you want to be; you cannot be what someone else needs as well.”
It was Georgianna’s turn to frown. She wasn’t entirely sure that she knew what he was talking about. She thought she had it, but she didn’t feel any better about herself, or about what was happening to Taye and Nyah. For an inspirational talk, she wasn’t feeling all that inspired. She felt more depressed than ever.
“You are still growing, Gianna,” he smiled. “Emotionally, at least. I don’t think you’re ever going to be tall.”
She couldn’t help herself, a laugh slipped forth, and she smiled a wet grin back at her father.
“Mum was the same?”
“She grew so unexpectedly,” he beamed. “Maybe that will be how it is for you, that you will meet the man and… it is a man, right?”
Georgianna’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes, Da’.”
“Okay then,” he nodded. “Well, maybe you’ll meet him and you’ll… feel grown.”
She remembered her father’s stories being more eloquent than this. Or, at least, easier to follow. He sounded so profound and wise when she was a child, though maybe he wasn’t as sure about how to deal with a daughter who didn’t dream of her joining the way other girls did. She had been running after medics, asking them to show her injuries, or climbing trees and getting lost on the trail.
“If Mum had been sold…” Georgianna cut herself off. Even the thought of that was horrifying to her.
“I would have walked off the edge of the world to get her back.”
Georgianna pushed herself up onto her knees, shuffling across the floor to kneel between her father’s legs. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she buried her face against his chest. He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, holding her against him as tightly as when he’d been able to pick her up in one arm and carry her through their camp. With Taye’s desperation for a plan and Keiran’s objections to carrying one out at all both vying for attention in her mind, her father’s words were exactly what she needed to hear.
Georgianna sniffed, her final tears brushed away by his shirt.
“So would I.”
YOU ARE READING
Dead and Buryd
Science Fiction"You are an inmate, not a medic. You should get used to that." On the planet Os-Veruh, the native Veniche have endured a decade under the oppressive rule of a race of invaders, the Adveni. When Georgianna Lennox, a Veniche medic, discovers her child...
