Wild Magic by Jo Clayton

By Jo Clayton

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Leia got female troubles,” he muttered. ” Reyna shifted his hold on Faan who was starting to wriggle, wanting down. He patted the child to quiet her and frowned at Chezar… “I’ll bring a bottle. ” With the mahsar Ailiki trotting behind him, Reyna strode into the trees. He stepped over a sprawled mule-head, started to circle around a game of jiwa-bufa scratched into the hard dry earth. One of the players, a Salagaum, looked up, pushed straggling gray hair out of his eyes. ” He wrinkled his brow, swayed on his knees, and peered hazily at Ailiki.

The days passed, slow and sweet, Nenna the month changed to Sabba, Sabba to Tikenda, Tikenda to Tamma, Tamma to Jamma as Spring ripened into Summer. Nothing was the same at the Beehouse. At times Faan was quiet, sad, but her memories of her mother and Jal Virri faded. Even the home dreams came less and less often and finally not at all. She stopped clinging to Reyna, but she was quiet when he was out and crept up to him afterward, touching him over and over again as if she wanted to be sure he was really there.

He upended it, shook his head when a moth flew out, tossed the boot to one of the Wascram boys crouched by his feet, and went on with his performance as the boys moved through the crowd, collecting coins from his audience. On the other side of the Lane Zinar the Porter shifted his load. ” He slapped at the bale on his head. ” Quiambo Tanish went hurrying by, his arms loaded down with supplies for the school. He waggled an elbow at Reyna, slowed for a few steps. the Doorkeeper, nodded at them, waved, brushed hastily past.

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