He adored this desert world, though such feeling gave him a twinge of guilt, because it seemed like a denial of the worldtrees. But he made up for it by hurrying to the little grove, kneeling beside the treelings, and touching their trunks. Closing his eyes, he recalled the palette of his memory and described all the beautiful things he had seen.

The trees responded with wordless delight.

30: SAREIN

30SAREIN

As the humid forest settled for the night, Sarein made sure her little sister Celli went to bed. Idriss and Alexa were not rigid parents, but Sarein insisted on following a schedule. Though the ten-year-old always tried to wheedle another hour or so of playtime, Sarein insisted that Celli abide by the rules.

“Tie down your pet condorfly,” she said. “And wash up.”

“He needs me to watch over him,” said Celli with a pout. The colorful creature rattled its emerald-green wings inside the chamber, then clacked its long thin beak as if in search of flower petals to devour.

“He can take care of himself. He is a wild creature, you know.” Sarein stood in the low doorway, brooking no argument. She knew it would be only a matter of moments before her sister heaved a sigh and did as she was told.

“He’s my pet.” Celli had captured this one just as it emerged from its chrysalis, still moist and weak. She kept a thin chain cuffed to one of its eight segmented legs so that it could flap and drift above her shoulder like a living kite. Sarein had always thought condorflies had about as many brain cells as a kite.

“Yes, and he wants you to go to bed as much as I do. Now don’t make this as difficult as you did yesterday.” Grudgingly, the little girl complied.

At night, still tethered to its stand, the condorfly would crawl through the window and fly as far as the leash would allow it. In the morning, Celli would reel it in. Luckily, condorflies had relatively short life spans, so her sister’s depend-

ence upon this mindless pet would last no more than a month or two.

All day long, the little girl was a bundle of energy, running and leaping, chattering with friends, playing various games. She had more foolish courage than common sense. By the age of ten, Celli had had her share of broken bones from various falls and scrapes. Her tomboy body was an ever-changing pattern of scabs and skinned knees, scratches, bruises, and scrapes.

Sarein often grew impatient with her, but then told herself that Celli would grow up. Eventually. Estarra, two years older, seemed well on her way to making proper decisions. Sarein’s greatest hope was that she and her siblings, in one generation, could change Theroc and bring these backwater people out of their prehistoric naïveté and into the thriving community of the Spiral Arm.