Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [204]
Bards from the other temples joined Clay’s group, the music rising to the clouds. Tables were set up, spread with food and drink, and a picket line was strung for the visitors’ horses. There were tubs of apple cider being pressed on the spot, wines from Cusca Vally and coffee from Oldosia. A huge pot of Avanchak was simmering over the fires and whole salmon from the Terse River, wrapped in leaves, were baking in the coals. Fruit, bread, rolls, butter and cheese were pushed back to make room for the delicacies brought from each temple. More horses were picketed, and familiars rushed in—ravens, hawks and canines.
‘How do you grow the grass so rich?’ a temple witch from Timbali asked as she led a string of horses past.
‘Good intentions,’ Rosette said, laughing.
The day burst into celebration and when the sun dropped low—the slanting rays turning the mountains red—they moved the whole fete inside. The halls under the mountain rocked with dance and song. Towards midnight, Rosette found Kreshkali in her old chamber, the one Rosette escaped from before she knew who her mother was. The light was soft, obscuring the mosaic tiles that decorated the walls. Steam wafted from the bathing pool and candles floated near the steps. Kali was curled in a bed of cushions. Teg rose from her side and stretched.
‘Rosette, you have that look,’ Kreshkali said.
‘What look?’
‘Like you’ve had enough of the company.’
Rosette laughed as she picked up an empty glass. Teg filled it and they sat together, Drayco peering into the water, watching the candles float by.
‘We agreed I’d spend winter in the cottage,’ Rosette said. ‘The work’s done here and I’d like some time for quiet study.’
‘Jarrod going with you?’
‘He is.’ She grinned. ‘I didn’t even have to ask.’
‘You’ve my blessing then, as long as you don’t go running into walls. Earth’s closed, at least for now. Teg and I tried. There’s no way in.’
‘Agreed.’ She took a sip of the deep red merlot, a bottle from the year she was born. ‘But you can’t hear yourself there at all? You don’t know what’s happening to Nell, to Earth?’
‘Nothing.’ Kreshkali shook her head. ‘It seems the open corridors are what allowed me to know what the left hand was doing, so to speak.’
‘I thought that too. It’s something I plan to study more. There is so much we still don’t understand about the corridors. And if Earth has perished…if Shaea and Passillo are lost forever…’
‘We have to trust it, Rosette,’ Teg said. ‘Shaea may be lost but Nell and An’ Lawrence chose to stay back because they had an intention. They believed it would work. If there’s a way to get through, they will find it.’
‘There is always a way,’ Kreshkali said, hugging them both. ‘I don’t know how, but I know we’ll get a message, and we’ll find Shaea and the spell too.’
Nellion leaned over the rows of strawberries, planting out the last of the fresh runners. The ground was warm, the earth rich and porous from its top dressing of ash. ‘We’ll have bumper crops for decades,’ she said to the Three Sisters.
No hunger! No worry!
‘There’s plenty enough for everyone, isn’t there, lovelies?’
The ravens preened their wing feathers, revealing soft grey down beneath glossy black mantles. As one, they took flight, shooting towards the corn fields that edged the green pastures. A small herd of horses grazed nearby, mostly golden palominos, their manes and tails lifting in the breeze. Bells rang as the milk goats clustered around blackberry patches, kids leaping in the air, jumping over each other. ‘Save some for us, you gluttons!’ Nell called to them. ‘I want to make jam for winter.’
‘If we have a winter.’ An’ Lawrence came up the row of strawberries, his bare feet silent in the soft dirt. ‘This is the warmest autumn I can remember.’
‘It’s not Gaela, love.’ Nell took his hand and he hoisted her up. ‘And Earth is mild as a lamb these days. Where’s Mamá?’
‘Behind the stables. She