Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (the rosie project .txt) 📕

“Silence. In five days, go to the Hiring Hall and ask for someone who can wait tables and clean up. Be sure to talk to the Assistant Hall Master. He’ll be expecting you.”

“For the love of—”

“You’re not listening.” Krell showed her impatience by drumming her fingers on the table. “Just do it, and make sure you hire a female.”

“Taelach?” he asked hopefully.

“No, Autlach. Her name will be LaRenna. Remember that.” Krell rose from the table and peered at Starnes, who flinched involuntarily. “If you want help, this is what you’ll do.” Krell turned to leave, but halted when the Autlach reached out.

“And what do I tell my unwanted guests about a new employee? Things have been slow.”

“You’re about to have a boom in business.”

This still failed to pacify the barman. “Listen, my father is ill. He’s bedfast. They won’t let me get him treated.”

Krell picked at his head a second time. Again, no deception. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Strong’s Seizures.”

“How long?” Her concern surprised a man used to the unfeeling nature of his current boarders.

“A full moon cycle, maybe a little longer.”

“Strong’s Seizures take two to three cycles untreated to be fatal. Keep him comfortable and I’ll send medicine with your help.” Then Krell reminded him sternly: “Five days. No more, no less.” She threw Russ’s payment on the table and walked away.

“Wait,” implored Starnes, but Krell was gone, lost in the crowds of the Common Grounds. How does one so large disappear so quickly, he wondered, then lumbered toward the market area to make his purchases.

Russ remained by the kitchen window until they had safely departed. He knew of an individual who rewarded handsomely for such information, provided he could locate them. “Sorry, Krell,” he murmured, deep in for the monetary boost heading his direction, “but times are tough and I have children to feed. We all must sacrifice something.”

Chapter Nine

Taelachs are cunning creatures. They are never where or what you would expect.

—Autlach warning

Krell searched for fair Taelach hair swimming above the sea of dark Autlach heads ebbing from the passenger transport. Maybe I’m too far back, she thought and pushed more to the center of the platform. In her haste, she bumped into a small, hooded figure skirting the crowd, knocking it to the ground. “Apologies, friend.” Krell offered an arm in assistance. A delicate, pale hand accepted the gesture and sparkling blue eyes met her own. Krell startled, drawing a quick breath. “Third Kimshee Belsas?”

LaRenna snapped to her feet, dusted herself off, and raised an arm in salute. “Reporting for my post as required. Are you first Kimshee Middle?”

“Yes, uh—” Krell faltered, caught off watch by the unexpected beauty of the slight woman before her. “I’m sorry, but are you sure you’re Kimshee? It’s generally not a— A little small, aren’t you?”

Small? LaRenna thought. Why, I’ll show—

“My guardian raiser says size isn’t what makes one large or small.” LaRenna cringed, hoping that hadn’t sounded as asinine to her superior as it had to her. She wanted to make a point, not alienate herself.

The tall Kimshee only laughed, pushing a smile into the full mouth topping her square jawline. “Yep, that sounds like Belsas Exzal.”

Now LaRenna was startled. “You know my raiser personally, First Kimshee?”

“Know Grandmaster Belsas? Why, I’ve attended every lecture she’s ever given at the Training Grounds and served as her Autlach liaison at several posts as well. Don’t tell me you’re that bright-eyed child who used to tug on everyone’s tunic tails?”

“Guilty as charged, First Kimshee.” LaRenna smiled up bashfully. “I remember you now. You took a youth group I was a member of hiking when I was around eleven.”

“You’re right, and call me Krell. We don’t have time for the formalities or any more small talk. Let’s go.”

They walked quickly across the base. Krell’s strides far outpaced those of the shorter Taelach’s gait so she slowed to a stride LaRenna could maintain. They stopped here and there along the way, Krell indicating points of interest. It was a vast space, as large as Polmel, as populated but cleaner and more simply arranged. Krell told of the recent expansions and apologized for the living conditions. “If it wasn’t so crowded, I would have insisted on private quarters for you. But as it is, and will continue to be, we’re fortunate not to be sharing with an entire sentry squadron. I tried to make the lack of space tolerable, cleared out a few shelves and scrounged up an extra clothing cubicle for you.”

LaRenna appreciated the concern for her personal comfort. “I’m sure it will be adequate,” she said politely, trying not to appear so intimidated by her teacher’s sheer size. Krell was exceedingly tall, even for a guardian. She was muscular as well but in that lean, graceful way Taelachs were known for. “I really didn’t bring that much.”

“So I noticed,” replied Krell with an admiring glance at the top of LaRenna’s generous locks. “But then again, I didn’t to my first post either. Here we are.” She pointed to the housing compound directly ahead. “We’re fourth floor, number four two four.”

LaRenna’s blue eyes brimmed with doubt. “Everyone shares quarters here?”

“Yes, the Langus base no longer segregates housing areas, officer-enlisted, or Taelach-Autlach,” said Krell bluntly, though not indifferent to LaRenna’s reluctance to accept what was all so new. “Things go smoothly most days. Not that you’ll be around enough to worry about it. You’ll be far too busy.” She stepped onto the lift, holding it open while LaRenna and a weary Autlach sentry boarded. He leaned against the lift walls, near asleep. Krell nodded acknowledgment to his half-hearted salute then let silence prevail until they reached the fourth level.

“We’re home.”

Krell turned down the right-hand passageway. LaRenna followed slowly, taking in her new surroundings. The quarters here were indeed cramped, some sentries forced to bunk in cleared storage closets. Krell placed an index finger on the security plate and the hatch to their quarters hissed