Terry shook her head. "Don't tell me the other faces you see. I want to know about Rankil. Tell me something about her. Is she as pleasant looking as I think?"

Rankil bit her lip to keep back the deluge of questions, but they spilled forth anyway, expressing the thousand ideas in her head. "What am I, Granny? What is a Taelach? Do all Taelachs look like I do? Should I wear my hair short? Grow it back long? Where do I fit in?" Rankil stared in the reflecting board again, surprised at the suddenly older face peering back. It wasn't the distorted image she'd seen when drawing water from the compound's central well. There was something behind it, a substance she'd never seen before. She wasn't the stupid waste they said she was. The world was clearer to her now, as clear as the slim-jawed face looking back.

Terry took the reflector and ran her hands over Rankil's face. "Let me tell you what I see. Before me is Rankil, an amazing young woman. She is growing strong and tall. She should be proud of who she is."

Rankil tensed but didn't pull away. "And who is that, Granny Terry?"

Pleased, Terry traced the line of Rankil's small smile then dropped her hand. "Time in general will tell you, as will time with your people."

"My people?"

"Yes." Granny Terry's voice became stern. "You're caught between two very different worlds, one which detests the other. You know the Autlach and need to know the Taelach. They'll find you here. They'll teach you, and in the end you will leave here to become one of them."

"But I just got here." Rankil's slender hand clutched Terry, her long fingers easily wrapping the older woman's wrist. "I couldn't possibly go."

Terry broke the grasp and ran the comb through Rankil's layered cut, satisfied when she found it free of knots. "Yes, child, eventually you'll leave. You'll have to for your own safety but, hopefully, that's some time away, and we can enjoy the time in between." She brushed the stray hairs from the table then passed Rankil the rush sweeper. "Clean it up for me. I'd be picking hair for days if you weren't here."

"You'd have no hair to sweep if I weren't here." Rankil tossed the brittle, matted braid out the door.

"I swear I never heard a full sentence out of you before today. You're the sweet little smart mouth when you wish to be." Terry went to the trunk and once again pulled out the piece of rich green fabric. "So, Rankil, you're long overdue for some finery. Today, after we finish working in the garden, we'll begin making you knee skirts and leggings. They're the wear of Taelach youth and what you should have as well, but first things first. Come to the table. It's time for the midday sup." She brought out sweet jam and cheese to accompany the bread already on the table.

"Taelach preserves are the sweetest I've ever tasted. Too sweet for me, but I wager you'll like them."

She placed Rankil at the head of the small dining table, making her the recipient of a precious gift-a belly-filling meal served with a healthy side of attention. Terry cooed over Rankil for the remainder of the day, acknowledging her thoughts, cherishing her presence. They worked outside until the heat became unbearable then retreated to the shade of the porch, deep in conversation as they began assembling Rankil's first new set of clothing. It felt strange to be wanted, like shedding a long-rotted skin. Rankil needn't run anymore and slept safe in her own private loft among the fresh straw, tucked in a soft pallet made just for her. Tisph's hands couldn't reach her. Her father's belt and fist were far away. Rankil was loved, safe, warm and looking forward to someday meeting her own. She'd finally reached a place above the fear and prejudice, a place for learning and exploration of her own identity. Rankil was home.

Chapter Three.

Opportunity is chance come knocking. Open the door.

-Granny Terry "Damn!" Kaelan's arrow had barely grazed her quarry's front flank. The deer stumbled then darted away, leaving a droplet trail of blood to show its flight path. Muttering more curses, Kaelan snatched her reins and mounted her skittish nassie. Her adopted daughter Myrla jumped onto her own mount, kicking and whistling until the gentle beast began moving.

"Don't worry." Myrla said as they tracked. "It can't run far bleeding like that. You wait, it'll be on the spit before we know it."

"I'm not concerned." Kaelan shouldered her bow and clicked her tongue for their mounts to quicken their pace. "But you have a lot to learn about hunting, daughter. An animal runs all the farther when wounded. It's running for its life-and toward the foothills. We'll follow from a distance until it gets tired then I want you to take it down."

"Me?" Myrla's plaits bounced as she rode up beside Kaelan. "You're letting me?"

"You'll be fourteen this fall. That's old enough to hunt. Besides, you've become a fair shot with a bow. Time you were put to the test."

Myrla pulled a little taller on her nassie. How proud she felt, all but fourteen and on her first hunt. Under Kaelan's guidance she took the lead, tracking the deer to a nearby thicket. "Must have hurt it worse than we thought," she whispered as they crept toward the thicket. Arrow in place, bow drawn, she pushed deeper, Kaelan holding back so she could act alone. The clan's evening meal was up to her.

Whisssph-thud. Her arrow landed true, straight in the heart. The deer fell where it had stood, quivering before growing still. Myrla cheered and danced in a circle. Kaelan joined the celebration for a moment then held up a hand for her to cease.

"You know what to do next, don't you?"

Myrla's upper lip curled. "Gut it?"

Kaelan frowned at her. "Before that."

The girl blinked good-naturedly. "Why, Kaelan," she laughed. "You thank the Mother Maker, of course. She's the one who put the deer here to begin with. I knew that." Myrla dropped to one knee and spoke the appropriate prayer.

"Much better." Kaelan tied a rope to the animal's front legs and suspended it from a nearby tree. "Now, in answer to your question. Clan rule. You kill it-you clean it."

"Ugh!" Despite Myrla's objections, she knew she must do the chore. Kaelan showed her how to rig up the deer so it would bleed the best and demonstrated how to open the belly to remove the entrails. "Separate and rinse everything with water from the flask then put it all in the lined sling. Careful not to nick the intestine. It'll ruin the best of the sweetmeats. Good girl! You're quite handy with a knife. Jewel will be proud."

Myrla smiled as she gazed up at her raiser. "We caught this one early. Do we have to go back right now? It's pretty in the lowlands. There're more trees."

"These aren't the lowlands, but I suppose it's lower than you've ever been." Kaelan sliced off a portion of leg meat then hefted the carcass onto one of the nassies. "And, no, we're not going back yet. We've other business."

"What business?"

Kaelan wrapped the meat in cloth, straddled her mount, and pulled her daughter up behind. "Hold this." She passed back the roast. "You'll see soon enough." She steered their nassies through the thick undergrowth and further down the mountain. Myrla sang softly as they trotted along, her off-key melody following Kaelan's low hum. It was a pleasant morning to be out, growing warmer by the minute but clear and dry. They skirted a large clearing, stopping just inside the tree line on the far side.

"All right," Kaelan took the meat pack and leaned back, encouraging her daughter's dismount. Myrla slid down, tied the nassies off, then waited as Kaelan stepped off the animal with long-legged ease. "Come along. We've a delivery to make."

"Delivery?" Myrla trotted to keep up, following Kaelan around a thorny thicket surrounding a small, bubbling spring. They pushed through a stand of trees and on the far side, Kaelan stopped, pulling Myrla low. She pointed down the hillside to a small house and outbuildings nestled against a stream.

"That's where we're going?" Myrla looked dismayed. "But that's an Aut's home!"

Kaelan smiled at the wary sound in her child's voice. "Correct, it is. It's where Blind Grandmother lives. You've heard me speak of her. The roast is for her. We must do our part to help others. Helping deeds are part of the Great Mother's requirements for us."

"But you told me Blind Grandmother knew of us," whispered Myrla. "Why are we hunkered down?"

"Caution is best in all dealings with Auts." Kaelan held her head a little higher, scanning and listening for anything suspicious. "Besides, Grandmother does have the occasional visitor." She edged forward and, after another look about, waved her daughter to follow. The Serpent clan's inking wriggled high on Kaelan's arm when she moved. Myrla admired the strength the simple reptilian pattern represented, but only broadbacks wore inkings in the Serpent clan, and Myrla was old enough to know she didn't want to be one.

"It's clear," Kaelan said. "Let's deliver the bundle."

They made a quiet path to the rear of Granny Terry's smoker shed then opened the heavy wooden box resting against it. "Looks like good eating to go with your deer." Kaelan held up one of the large, juicy vine fruits Terry had provided from her garden. "She left enough for all of us." She took the fruit sack and replaced it with the meat. "Gather a bouquet of those blue hats. They smell nice, and she seems to prefer them."

Myrla hurried up the hillside and gathered an armful of the aromatic wildflowers. "This enough?"

"Plenty. Now lay them on top of the meat and shut the box. It's time we returned home." Kaelan grasped the half-rotted rope dangling from the shed's corner. "Get back to the tree line," she told her daughter. "And keep low." Myrla obeyed, taking position out of plain sight but visible enough to see her raiser ring the rusting bell at the rope's top. Kaelan dashed to her side and pulled both their heads inside their green summer cloaks. "We'll wait and make sure she's around. I wouldn't want the meat spoiling before she finds it."

"The bell!" Rankil jumped so hard root slices scattered across the porch. "Granny Terry, the bell!"

"I heard." Terry rose from the shady front yard bench. "Hope they enjoy the vine fruits. Let's see what, if anything, they've left in return."

Rankil danced along beside her, more excited than she could remember. Maybe, if she were watchful, she'd catch a glimpse of one of them. She followed her grandmother through the garden, unable to contain her joy when they reached the smoker shed. Terry rapped her cane on the box lid. "Take a look."

Rankil took a deep breath, flipped up the lid, and reached inside. "Flowers!" She placed the bouquet in Terry's hands. The old woman took a deep sniff and smiled.

"Blue Hats. My favorite. Bless their kind souls. What else did they send?"

Rankil unwrapped the meat and pushed her finger into the grain. "Deer meat and it's so fresh it's still warm!"

"We'll roast it with garden mushrooms and eat it with our beans. What a feast we'll have tonight!" Granny turned toward the tree line and waved her cane high in thanks. Rankil squinted the same direction but saw nothing.

"How do you know they're up there?"

"Oh, they're up there, and I bet they've seen you." Terry walked toward the house. "Come along. We've work to do."

"But-" Rankil ran her hand over her new, shorter hairstyle and looked to the tree line again. "If they see me, why don't they come talk to me?"

"Give them time, and they will in their own way." Terry shuffled around the edge of the shed and into the garden. "Help me uncover the mushrooms so we can get out of this heat."

Rankil sighed and turned back, slow to retreat though she knew no contact would be made that day. What could she have said anyway? Did the Taelach speak the same language as the Autlach?

"Kaelan, did you see?" Myrla rocked back and forth in her hunkered position. "There's a sister down there around my age! What would she be doing so far away from the clan ranges? Think she's lost?"

Kaelan rubbed her chin, confused as well, but enlightened to the dangers. "No, don't think she's lost. From what I could tell, she seems to be helping Blind Grandmother. I think she's misplaced."

"Misplaced?" Myrla stared at her raiser. "You mean she's been raised Aut? But Taelach babies are killed if they aren't claimed!"

"Occasionally, one is allowed to live, but I've been told it's a horrible existence. They're slaved as children. Worse as they grow."

Myrla began crawling toward the tree line. "Then we have to rescue her!" Kaelan jerked her back to push a stern finger into her round face.

"No, not in this manner. I believe she's safe where she's at for the present. Blind Grandmother seems to care for her. Besides, if she's been raised Aut, she won't know anything of our customs or language. This must be handled delicately." Lowering her finger, Kaelan regarded her daughter in a kinder manner. Myrla had only wanted to help and that sort of blind courage, while foolish, was commendable. "We'll discuss our discovery over the evening fire. Recca must know about this sister in need." Kaelan took a piece of vine fruit from the bag and sliced it.

"Time and patience." She offered half to her daughter. "That's what we need."

"Can I be the one to tell mamma what we found?" Myrla wiped the seeded juice dribbles from her chin.

Kaelan reached back to squeeze Myrla's shoulder before they pushed into the woods. "Fine by me, mighty huntress. You can tell her. She's the one I'd tell first anyway. Let's go home."

The clan's central fire burned high, the air heavy with roast deer and green wood. The children had been fed and put to bed, their raisers returning to the fireside with their ground mats, ready to discuss the day and plan for the next. In reward for her kill, Myrla had been permitted to remain up, an honor seldom bestowed on one below the age of recognition.

"Did a team go out this evening?" Jewel snuggled into Kaelan and wrapped her arms about her neck. Myrla sat on Kaelan's other side, tired, but knowing better than to show it. She unplaitted her hair and stared into the fire, waiting for Kaelan's response.

"One left at dusk." Kaelan fingered the silver wisps that had escaped Jewel's bright headscarf. "There's one close to delivering in a compound west of here."

"They bringing her back tonight?" Jewel loved when a new baby came into the clan, even though it meant enduring the difficulties of the Autlach mother. They were well treated under her care, not that it mattered. Autlach women were always terrified when brought to a Taelach stronghold to give birth, some going as far as suicide to prevent the Taelach from taking one of their own.

"Jewel?" Kaelan's tickling whisper brought her back to the present. "You're a night's ride from here. What's on your mind?"

"Births," she sighed. "Births and babes." The last word led her gaze to Myrla. No matter how big her daughter became she'd always be the tiny newborn Jewel had once cuddled.

Kaelan pulled Jewel's face up to meet her own. "Don't tell me you want another one."

"I'm always giving away the things I help bring into the world. It's natural I feel the urge every now and again." Jewel's eyes almost pleaded. "Do you think we could place our names on the list again?"

"You sure you can bear the wait? Times are dangerous and safe birthing raids are scarce. It may take three of four passes for our turn." Kaelan looked to Myrla. "How do feel about it, young one? Would you like a little sister?"

"Would I!" exclaimed Myrla. "I've wanted one since I can remember." Her elation quieted when the clan leader, Recca, held her arms high for silence.

We'll sign onto the list as soon as the records keeper opens her curtain tomorrow morn. Kaelan's gentle mind phase brought a smile to Jewel's face. She nuzzled into Kaelan all the more and listened to Recca's booming oration. The Serpent clan leader had to be strong, a commanding woman able to keep her people focused when things went well and capable of keeping them in line when things didn't.

"Good day today, all things considered." Recca's pale eyes shone pink from the fire's glow. "The Stores hunters brought in two bandit beasts for smoking and Kaelan's girl downed the doe you're all digesting." Recca cast the youngster an approving nod. "Well done, Myrla."

Myrla squared in her seat. She hadn't known Recca knew her name. The clan leader always seemed too busy to notice the younger clan members, seldom emerging from the caverns when the children were awake.

Recca's leathered face became drawn when she saw Myrla's smug expression. "But, if I may remind the youngest present"- every eye turned on Myrla, deflating her swollen ego to the point she cringed-"there is more to growing up than being skilled with the bow. One's ability with the scroll and stylus is equally important." Recca peered at the rising moon. "Such deeds cannot be achieved by a student who maintains late hours."

Jewel rose from her place to take Myrla's arm. "Come on." Her smile was pert. "It's high time you were in bed." She took a lantern from a lighting hook and ushered her daughter to the small, quiet grotto Kaelan claimed as family quarters. Myrla's bedroll was already spread behind its curtain. Myrla dropped her knee skirts, peeled off her hide leggings, then after kneeling for her prayers, crawled between the fur liner and thin summer blanket, happy Jewel still took time to tuck her in. She wondered if the misplaced girl had such luxuries.

"Sleep tight." Jewel kissed her forehead.

"Mamma?"

"Yes?"

"What will become of the girl I saw today?"

"The adults are discussing it now. I'll give you a full account in the morning. Don't lose sleep over it. Remember, you have a history recitation for Larkette tomorrow."

"I'm ready." Myrla yawned as Jewel pulled the blanket to her chin. "She'll be brought into the clan, won't she?"

"I don't know." Jewel's face flushed. "Misplaced sisters are seldom able to adapt to our ways. They're often damaged from the abuse they've received. We can't take in a potential threat."

Myrla's expression swept into confusion, and she sat up in the blankets. "But she's around my age. How could she be a danger?"

"Now, Myrla," Jewel pushed her back in bed and pulled the blanket up. "Recca will decide what's best. If she believes there's a chance to save this girl then all attempts will be made." Jewel pulled the curtain. "Good night."

"Good night." Myrla watched the lantern light bob along the ceiling. "Mamma?" The light ceased dancing.

"Yes?"

"She didn't look mad to me."

"I'm sure Kaelan will keep that point in mind." The glow faded as Jewel drew shut the folding partition to their quarters. Raised voices were audible from the corridor leading to the fireside. She hung her lamp and returned to her place.

Kaelan paced the fireside, at clear odds with Recca. "The child was helping Blind Grandmother!" she declared, unaware of her mate's return. "That alone shows she has at least some of her senses."

"My answer is no." Recca frowned at the questioner of her authority. The clan leader's word was gospel, all rebukes taken as a challenge for control. "I will not risk the safety of the entire community for one straggler."

"Straggler?" Kaelan threw up her arms. Recca's venomous glare did nothing to unnerve her. They'd been friends and battle comrades far too long. "We're talking about a girl the age of my Myrla. She's young enough to adapt. We should at least try."

"No!" Recca swung around the fire circle to stand toe to toe with Kaelan, a power move that more often than not quelled further argument. Kaelan grinned defiantly and set her toes on Recca's, grinding them into the soft dirt.

"She's a little girl."

Recca jerked her foot back and stomped it on Kaelan's. "She's big enough to cause damage. Unless you can prove she's in her right mind the answer is no."