Skwyr Court

therightwords

Nourd stirred as the first flecks of light shone over the city walls. The sound of birds chirping made it feel almost like home. Almost.

Everything still smelled wrong. Almost three moons he’d been there, and it still didn’t feel like home. He longed to return to the forest, but Master Gorkle insisted it would “impede the progress” they’d been making. He wasn’t allowed in the castle all the time to see Oshal, and he wasn’t allowed to return to the forest to see his family. Nourd did not care for it here.

He sat up. Some of the other druids were stirring. They slept in a special part of the gardens, sectioned off from the rest of the area. While Nourd liked the feel of grass beneath his feet, it felt wrong. The air wasn’t abound with energy like it was in the forest. It was too organized.

Master Gorkle had told him that he needed time to adjust to being in the court before he could start spending more time in the castle. Nourd hadn’t been in the castle yet, nor did he think he wanted to. Until he thought about Oshal again, and then he wanted to be wherever Oshal was.

Nourd wondered what Oshal was doing. Was he with his sister again? She gave him a feeling as though a nest of spiders were crawling over him, but saying anything about it upset Oshal, so he focused on anything else when he was with them. So long as Oshal was happy, Nourd could tolerate Roshil.

Something caught his attention. Some sound coming from another part of the gardens. Nourd stretched his arms, then his legs, in the way that Elder Wolf had taught him, then crept toward the noise.

He walked through rows of tall bushes. There were trees around the area, hiding the speaker from sight. She smelled like an apprentice, the same sort of earthy smell that all apprentices had. And her words were strange. They didn’t make any sense to Nourd.

Water trickles over a creek Sustaining the earth and creatures Giving life to all it touches Echoes of birds chirping Tossed around between trees By the cool wind Green sparkles in the sky Twinkling with the sunlight of a clear day When night falls glittering stars shine and moonlight illuminates a brand new world

Her words sent Nourd back home. He heard the calls of the birds, the howl of wolves, and grumbles of bears. The wind shook the leaves, speaking to all who could hear. And the smells. Bark and pine, fresh water on grass, and fruit growing for those who knew where to look. The smell of wolves and bears, of apes and deer. The smells of home.

“Excuse me?”

Nourd opened his eyes and found a girl staring at him. Her skin was a pale peachy color, like Master Gorkle’s and Roshil’s. Her thick black hair hung to one side over her shoulder. She held a book with both arms, as though to protect it from him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I heard a noise, and I came to hunt it.”

“Um… what?”

The girl didn’t understand him. That happened a lot. When it did, Oshal had told him to try being nice. That’s what Oshal did, and it always worked.

“I liked the words you spoke,” Nourd said. “They made me think of home.”

“Thank you? It’s supposed to be about the forest.”

“That is where I lived until I was forced to come live here.”

The girl stared at him, smelling of confusion and a hint of fear. She reminded him of a time he’d tried being nice to a rabbit.

“Does the court know you’re here?”

“Yes. I am Master Gorkle’s apprentice.”

Rabbit Girl nodded. She clearly wanted to escape to her warren before he ate her.

“I will not eat you,” Nourd said to assure her.

“Okay.”

His words had not assured her. This was one part about humans he didn’t understand. Even when you insisted you wouldn’t eat, hunt, or kill them, they still believed that you would. If anything, they seemed to believe it more when you told them that.

“Um… I have to go now,” she said, pointing toward the rest of the gardens. She sidled away.

“What do the humans call you?” Nourd asked, remembering something Master Gorkle had taught him called “manners”.

Rabbit Girl froze. What little relief that she had started to feel disappeared.

“Um… Apprentice Anej?”

“I am Nourd.” He thought for a moment, then added, “Apprentice Nourd.”

“Sure. It was… nice to meet you, I guess.”

Anej turned around and walked off, keeping her head down.

Nourd watched her go, still thinking about her words. What were they? Had she been in the forest? Whatever they were, he liked them. He tried to remember them, but he couldn’t. How had it gone? Water, and life, and birds. Leaves were part of it too, he was pretty sure.

He took a deep breath, getting an idea of her scent. Master Gorkle had told him he wasn’t supposed to track people by their scents. It related to the thing called “manners”, which didn’t make sense to Nourd. It sounded like some sort of mating ritual, but he didn’t want to mate with Anej, he wanted to hear her words again.

He began to follow her trail, but then he caught another, more familiar scent.

Master Gorkle walked through the gardens, hir sight set on Nourd. That meant zie wanted Nourd for something. Maybe it was time to go back to the forest.

“Apprentice Nourd.”

Nourd turned to face zie.

“You’re supposed to stand attention when a master approaches you,” Master Gorkle said.

Nourd stood up straighter.

“Much better. Today we’re going to go to the castle. It’s not time for you to stay there full-time yet, but we’re going to try just walking around today.”

“I want to see Oshal. Will he be there?”

Master Gorkle nodded. “Apprentice Oshal will be there, yes. He and Lady Durwey will accompany us.”

Nourd smiled and followed Master Gorkle, Anej’s words still drifting through his head. For a moment, he’d been back in the forest without being there. He didn’t know if it was some other form of human magic, but he’d liked it. He wanted to know more about it. Perhaps Oshal would know.

#VolumeTwo #TheRightWords

Nourd walked with Master Gorkle through the court to the castle entrance. He’d tried the other entrances before, but after nearly being sick, Master Gorkle had decided it wasn’t a good idea. This way also gave them the opportunity to see more of the city.

Hundreds of scents floated through the air. Not only human emotion, but food. Nourd was fascinated by all the food the humans had. Not only fruit and plants, but pastries, breads, and sweets. Sweets were Nourd’s favorite. He’d tried chocolate with Oshal, and hadn’t thought of anything else for the rest of the day.

Nourd caught the scent of chocolate and stopped walking.

“I smell chocolate,” he said, his excitement growing. “I want some now. May I have some now?”

“No,” Master Gorkle said. “Too many sweets will make you sick.”

“But chocolate is delicious. How can it also make me sick?”

Master Gorkle emanated patience at all times. The only exception was when they were around Roshil. Zie didn’t like her either, but zie’d explained that they had to tolerate her. Nourd hadn’t needed a reason for that; he knew it was to keep Oshal happy.

“That’s how it is with sweets,” Master Gorkle said. “They can also hurt your teeth, so you need to be careful.”

Nourd wondered why there were so many rules in the human world, but he’d already asked that question many times. Master Gorkle had reminded him that there were a lot of rules in the forest too, but Nourd knew them all, because he’d grown up with them.

They reached the castle entrance, where Oshal and Lady Durwey were waiting for them. Lady Durwey was never far from Oshal. While humans all looked different, she looked more so than others. Her skin was darker, and her hair fell around her shoulders in distinct strands. Nourd thought it looked like wool. When he’d asked to touch it, Master Gorkle had gotten upset, but Lady Durwey had calmly told him that most people didn’t want you touching their hair. It was yet another part of “manners”.

“You wouldn’t ask Elder Wolf that, would you?” Master Gorkle had said.

Nourd had agreed. Elder Wolf would simply devour any human that tried touching her.

Oshal smiled. Nourd liked it when Oshal smiled. It reminded him of eating chocolate. It was the same rush, the same exhilaration. Nourd had the impulse to throw his arms around Oshal.

“I am happy that you are alive,” Nourd said.

“I’m happy you are too,” Oshal replied.

The way Anej had treated him was the same as almost every other human did. Nourd didn’t like feeling so out of place, but he never did with Oshal.

“I wish to squeeze you with my arms,” Nourd said.

“We call that ‘hugging’,” Oshal said. He spread his arms. “Go ahead.”

Nourd wrapped his arms around Oshal and squeezed. Oshal did the same, although somewhat more gently than Nourd did.

“Please stop now,” Oshal said through a strained voice. “You’re squeezing too hard.”

Nourd let go of him and stepped back. He liked Oshal’s smiles, but he liked his hugs even better.

“I liked that,” Nourd said.

“Me too, but try being a little softer next time.”

“I will try.”

“We should get going,” Lady Durwey said. “Apprentice Oshal and I have a busy day ahead of us.”

The four of them walked into the castle. As always, they walked slowly to allow Oshal to keep up.

“The castle is a large square,” Master Gorkle said. “It can take time to get where you need to go, but it’s easy enough to find your way.”

Nourd smelled the air. It smelled of humans, and something faintly sweet.

“What do I smell?” He smelled again. “It smells like flowers.”

“Every few weeks, the staff rubs flower water on the walls to make it smell nice,” Master Gorkle said.

Nourd wasn’t sure how he felt about using dead flowers to make a human dwelling smell nicer. He liked the smell, but the thought of killing flowers to make it happen didn’t sit well with him.

“I do not think I like that,” he said.

“It would smell worse without it,” Master Gorkle said. “We pick flowers and put them around the castle. That’s mostly what you smell. As they wilt, while they still have a scent, they’re crushed to make the water they put on the walls.”

Nourd had seen flowers around the court. Master Gorkle and Oshal had explained those to him as well. He didn’t like that either.

They walked down a long tunnel, which Master Gorkle called a corridor. It was lined with doors, like the ones on the human dwellings.

“Do humans live in these?” Nourd asked.

“No, these are rooms the masters can use to meet with their apprentices alone,” Master Gorkle explained.

“Or when some of them want to study together,” Oshal added.

“Apprentices live in the north tower,” Master Gorkle said. “As a druid, you’ll sleep in the gardens. You will still have a room set aside for you, if you want one.”

“Why would I need one?”

“To store changes of clothes, which you will be required to have, among other things. For now, we can continue to provide you with clothing.”

“We’re between the south and east towers,” Lady Durwey said. “Masters sleep in those two. The west tower is where the officers’ rooms are. You are never to go there unless specifically invited by an officer.”

“In the middle of the castle is the great hall,” Master Gorkle said. “That is where meals are served.”

“Is there chocolate?” Nourd asked, getting excited.

Oshal smiled at him, making Nourd feel even more excited.

“Sometimes,” Master Gorkle said. “As I said earlier, sweets must be enjoyed in moderation.”

They walked a little further before Master Gorkle pointed out one of the doors.

“There are doors that lead to many different places in the kingdom,” zie said. “One for the library, one for the forge, and one for each of the temples. There are doors that lead into the forest, and one that leads to the school.”

Master Gorkle had explained each of these to him before. A library was a sick, twisted place where humans splattered plant juice over dead trees. The forge was where they bashed pieces of earth together to make weapons with which to slaughter innocent animals, and occasionally other humans. The temples were places where humans worshiped things they couldn’t see that occasionally helped them kill each other better, and a school was a sort of prison where humans went to learn about all the ways humans had killed each other in the past.

While Nature’s Power allowed him to understand human speech (as much was possible), it didn’t allow him to read it. He saw what humans called “letters” or “numbers” on each door, but didn’t know what any of them meant.

“What is this door?” he asked, pointing to the door Master Gorkle had indicated earlier.

Oshal walked over to it and felt a series of bumps next to do the door.

“It’s the Temple of Words,” Oshal said. “They worship Yvgrengher, deity of literature, poetry, and music.” He turned back to them. “He teaches them that the right words can change the hearts and minds of anyone.”

Nourd frowned. He knew what literature and music were, but he’d never heard of poetry before.

“What is ‘poetry’?” he asked.

“It’s when you put words together to make people think differently about something,” Oshal said. “Or to make them think of something specific.”

Nourd thought of Anej and her words. Had that been poetry?

“Like Apprentice Anej,” he said. “She spoke of the forest, about things that weren’t there.”

“Apprentice Anej is an apprentice priest at the Temple of Words,” Lady Durwey said. “She was probably practicing poetry in the gardens.”

“I enjoyed it,” Nourd said.

“I’m glad,” Oshal said. “Maybe we can go there together some time. Tomorrow’s not too busy.”

Neither Lady Durwey nor Master Gorkle smelled happy about it. They stared at each other, although Nourd didn’t know why.

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Lady Durwey said. “Only if we can get everything else done today that we need.”

If Nourd had been a wolf, he would’ve been wagging his tail. Not only would he be seeing Oshal two days in a row, but he’d be able to go to the Temple of Words where Anej was and hear her poetry again. Perhaps then he’d be able to feel at home again, even if he couldn’t return.

#VolumeTwo #TheRightWords

The next morning, Anej wasn’t in the gardens reciting poetry. While Nourd was a little disappointed, it quickly went away when he remembered he’d be going with Oshal to the Temple of Words later that day.

He still couldn’t remember the words she’d used. He could only remember how he’d felt and what he’d seen. For a moment, he’d been back in the forest, back where everything made sense, back where he knew where he belonged. Nourd hoped that would happen every time he heard those words. If he heard them again, he could pretend to go back, even if he couldn’t really go back there.

He’d tried imagining himself in the forest, but it didn’t work the same as when he’d heard Anej’s poem. He still couldn’t smell or hear the forest on his own. It wouldn’t matter though, not once he heard Anej’s poem again.

“We’ll go to the Temple of Words today,” Master Gorkle said when he arrived to fetch Nourd. Nourd could sense hir reluctance. Was there something wrong with going to the Temple of Words? Perhaps there would be hunters there.

“I do not have problems with hunters.”

A brief smell of confusion passed through Master Gorkle.

“Hunters aren’t my concern. When you’re there, you’ll need to follow the rules. Keep quiet. Don’t make any assumptions about what people are talking about. If they use words you’ve never heard before, wait for them to explain what they mean.” Zie sighed. “They do that.”

Master Gorkle’s attitude toward the Temple of Words reminded him a little of when Mother would try to keep peace between the tribes. Perhaps there were people there that argued all the time. Nourd had seen humans arguing many times during his brief stay at the court. Perhaps they were all angry about how complicated being a human was.

They met Oshal and Lady Durwey later that day. It always brightened Nourd’s spirits to see him. The exhilaration made him think of jumping through the treetops with the apes. He didn’t care what the birds said; flying couldn’t be as much fun.

Once again, they walked through the court rather than the castle. Most people moved out of their way, not unlike when they’d been through the court with Oshal’s family. Unlike that time, people moved away out of respect. He’d smelled their fear before. The humans didn’t like Roshil either.

“Here we are,” Lady Durwey said as they approached a large human dwelling.

Outside the temple there were two large stones carved into the shape of humans. One of them was frozen with her mouth open, looking out to a public that wasn’t there. The other had his head down, absorbed in the material in front of him.

“What are they?” Nourd asked. “Why are they like that?”

“They’re statues,” Master Gorkle explained. “Depictions of people that might’ve been alive long ago.”

“Why do humans keep dead humans in stone?”

He had heard that some humans stuffed dead animals, like the monsters humans were. They could at least have the decency to eat the animals and use their pelts to keep warm.

“They aren’t kept in stone. It’s… symbolic.”

“I—”

“I know you don’t know what that means.” Master Gorkle drew in a breath, but he let it out without explaining.

“Yvgrengher teaches the importance of books,” Oshal said. “When humans see statues, they think it must be something important. So they built statues of people reading to show how important books are.”

“Why do humans think carved stones of dead humans are important?”

“Because it takes a lot of work to carve the stone into dead humans,” Oshal replied. “So when people see that someone took the time and effort to make it, they think it must be important.”

Nourd looked at the statues again. He didn’t understand the significance, but he agreed that it must’ve taken a lot of time to make them. Perhaps there was significance in them.

Lady Durwey smiled at Oshal as the four of them walked inside the temple. Inside was a large cavern lined with trees carved into shapes. On those shapes were housed books, packed tightly together. Master Gorkle had told Nourd about books before, along with his explanation of a library. Books were dead trees with crushed up plants smeared on them, bound together by animal skin. Supposedly they were important to humans. In addition to the passing stories and survival skills from one generation to the next by way of teaching, they also did so with books.

Nourd could understand that somewhat. It would be helpful to know more than just what the previous generation remembered. There were times when he wondered if it would be helpful to know everything Elder Wolf’s ancestors knew.

A human male walked out to greet them. He wore robes of black, covered with sparkling pieces.

“My Lady Grand Weaver, Grand Master Druid. Welcome to the Temple of Words. May Yvgrengher share His infinite knowledge and wisdom with you.”

“Thank you, Master Rindumna,” Lady Durwey said. She motioned to Nourd. “Apprentice Nourd is new in the court, and was curious about the temple.”

“Of course. The temple welcomes all with a thirst for knowledge.” He looked down at Nourd. “What is it you would like to know, Apprentice Nourd?”

“How can one be thirsty for knowledge? One cannot drink knowledge.”

Master Rindumna frowned at Nourd, then at Master Gorkle.

“He doesn’t know what a metaphor is,” Master Gorkle said. “Apprentice Nourd was raised in the forest by Mother.”

“There was a woman reading words in the gardens yesterday about the forest,” Nourd said. “Master Gorkle said it was ‘poetry’. How does a human make poetry?”

“You allow the feelings in your heart to well up inside you, until it bursts forth in a shining fountain of your inner self.”

Nourd looked down at his chest. He’d seen what was inside a heart. It was just blood and bits of flesh. Did Master Rindumna mean he had to stab himself and bleed out? He was certain that would kill him.

Oshal raised his hand.

“Yes, Apprentice Oshal?” Lady Durwey said.

“Nourd, I think Master Rindumna means that you make poetry by writing down what you’re feeling.” Oshal turned his blind gaze to Master Rindumna. “Right?”

“I suppose that’s another way of explaining it,” Master Rindumna said, somewhat crestfallen. “If one were to use simple language.”

“Is Apprentice Anej here?” he asked. He smelled the air, but there were too many humans.

“She’s not here right now,” Master Rindumna said.

“She wrote a poem about the forest. I want to hear it again.”

“Nothing soothes the weary soul quite like a recitation from the heart.”

Nourd opened his mouth to ask, then remembered Master Gorkle’s orders not to ask questions.

“He means he likes poetry too,” Master Gorkle said.

“I do not know poetry yet. But I liked Apprentice Anej’s words. Do you know what they were?”

This human with his words that were more confusing than normal human words was making Nourd angry. He hadn’t come to be talked to in confusing words, he’d come to hear Anej’s words again.

“Whatever her chosen lyrics, she has yet to recite them for other ears to enjoy.”

“That means ‘no’,” Master Gorkle said. “I think it’s time we left.”

“But I haven’t heard Apprentice Anej’s words.”

“I’m sure we’ll find her again.”

“But—”

“Nourd,” Oshal said. “Please?”

Nourd sensed that Oshal wanted to leave too, so he allowed himself to be led out of the temple. Another human thing. Humans that made everything confusing. Humans that kept him from going back to the forest.

“Maybe you can write your own,” Oshal suggested as they walked back to the castle.

“I cannot write.”

“Sorry, that’s an expression. Maybe you can come up with a poem. You know the forest better than anyone.”

Nourd began to get an idea, remembering what Oshal had said earlier about poetry. It was about saying the words from his head. Was that all it took? He knew how to say the words… somewhat. Maybe he could come up with the same words Apprentice Anej had. Maybe he could use his own words to return to the forest.

#VolumeTwo #TheRightWords

Nourd sat in the gardens that evening, trying to put words together. It didn’t help that every time he thought he had something, it didn’t come out right. Human language was so confusing.

How was poetry supposed to work? How could he dream of the forest with his own words? If he needed words, how was he supposed to know the right words? What if he didn’t know the right words?

He caught a familiar scent and spotted Oshal entering the gardens. There was a girl with him, one with brown skin. He had his arm through hers.

“Thank you, Demndun,” Oshal said. “I can find my way from here.” Oshal frowned in concentration, something he did when he was sensing for someone, then beamed. He turned toward an apprentice sitting on his own. “Apprentice Kurgm!”

The boy smiled at Oshal and walked over to him. The girl with Oshal, Demndun, froze in place, like a squirrel that had just heard a hawk overhead.

“Apprentice Kurgm, have you met Apprentice Demndun?” Oshal asked.

“We have history together, don’t we?” Kurgm asked.

“Yeah,” Demndun said. “You’re… um… you’re really good at it.”

“I’ll see you both later,” Oshal said, smelling rather proud of himself. He tapped his way over to Nourd and sat down.

“I believe that female wants to mate with that male,” Nourd said. “Why does she make no indication of it? Her current approach is not going to work. He is not aware of this.”

“They’ll figure it out. It’s harder for humans.”

This didn’t come as a shock to Nourd. Everything was harder for humans. Why did they make their lives so difficult?

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t feel good when you get rejected by someone you like, so most people don’t risk saying anything. Other people close themselves off so no one can hurt them.”

Nourd wondered if he would be the same. So far, the only person he liked at all was Oshal, but Oshal was male. Oshal couldn’t be his mate, could he?

“Are you still worrying about poetry?” Oshal asked.

“I liked the words Anej used,” Nourd said, allowing his lingering confusion to fade away. “But I cannot remember what they were.”

Oshal scrunched up his face in thought. Nourd wondered what words he would use to describe Oshal, but he didn’t know the human language well enough to do even that.

“Maybe it’s like weaving,” Oshal said at last. “Humans can use weaving to make other humans feel something. I… I’ve done it before, but…” Oshal’s voice trailed off. He shook his head and smiled. “Everything’s fine now. Anyway, I can’t use it on myself. Not exactly, anyway. Trying to use weaving on myself is just thinking happy thoughts. I think poetry is like weaving, but using words to change peoples’ minds instead of threads.”

Oshal had tried explaining weaving to him before, but that was the first time Nourd had ever understood it. Could Oshal make him feel at home, like Anej had?

“Can you use weaving on me?”

Oshal shook his head. The air filled with panic and fear, something Nourd had never smelled coming from Oshal before.

“No. No, I can’t. I… I can’t explain why, but I can’t. Well, I can, but I shouldn’t. Weaving’s dangerous, and I shouldn’t use it on other people.”

Nourd began to panic too. Oshal had never been like this. Nourd knew he’d upset other humans, and had learned not to care about them, but Oshal was different. He didn’t want to upset Oshal.

“I did not mean to upset you.”

Oshal took several deep breaths. The fear in the air began to fade away.

“It’s fine. I… It’s nothing to worry you about. I’m sorry.”

Oshal smiled at him, but it wasn’t the same smile as usual. There was something different about him. Maybe it was the lingering smell of fear coming from him. It didn’t smell right on Oshal. It was foul, sickening, like a body that had been rotting too long in the sun.

“You smell scared,” Nourd said. “I do not like it.”

They sat together in silence for a time. The smells around Oshal shifted through fear and happiness, but they all faded away the longer the silence persisted.

“Next time you go into the forest, write down how it makes you feel. Then next time you miss it, you’ll have something to remind you of the forest.”

“I cannot read or write. Master Gorkle is teaching me, but it is confusing. I like it better in the forest, where everything is communicated with smells.”

“Oh. Maybe someone can write it down for you.”

Nourd perked up. “You can write it for me. I really want you to see the forest. You would like it there. It is safe, and there are rules that are not confusing like human rules, and the creatures are friendly and do not get frightened when you insist that you will not kill them. They will all like you a lot, because you are nice and will not hunt innocent forest creatures.”

Oshal smiled, and this time, it was a good smile.

“That sounds nice. I would like to go some time, but I can’t write anymore. I didn’t like writing before, or reading really. The grownups in our tribe used to tell us stories, but books were always really boring. Not for Roshil, though. If she wants to know something, she won’t stop until she’s figured it out.”

“Stories make more sense. That is how wisdom is passed down through generations in the forest. We learn to survive that way.” Nourd thought for a moment, then added, “You should still come to the forest.”

He thought of how happy Oshal would be to see everything in the forest. Elder Wolf and Elder Bear would like him. He wouldn’t be able to play with the wolf pups like Nourd could, but Oshal was always so happy and kind that they would like him anyway.

“I like the forest,” Oshal said. “I haven’t spent much time there, but it’s so peaceful. I don’t have to worry about how everyone’s feeling.”

“Oshal!”

The boy from earlier, Kurgm, came over to them.

“It’s almost curfew,” he said. “Demndun and I are going to start heading back.”

“Okay,” Oshal said. “Apprentice Kurgm, this is Apprentice Nourd. He’s a druid.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kurgm said.

Nourd still didn’t understand the correct way to greet someone. Was that it? “Nice to meet you”? What if it wasn’t nice at all? Nourd didn’t want to meet this person, he wanted to talk with Oshal more.

Oshal took a piece of something humans called “parchment” from one of his holding sacks, or “pouches” as Master Gorkle called them.

“I know you can’t read it,” Oshal said, “but I found Apprentice Anej at dinner and asked her to write down her poem.” He pressed it into Nourd’s hand. Oshal’s hand was warm and gentle. It sent a tingling feeling through Nourd’s arm. “Maybe Grand Master Gorkle can teach you to read it.”

The jumpiness that Nourd felt when he ate chocolate returned. A smile stretched over his face.

“Maybe you can write your own someday,” Oshal said. “I always like to hear about your life in the forest.” He stood up. “We’ll talk more later, okay?”

“Yes. Of course. More later. Tomorrow?”

“I’ll try.” Oshal smiled at him. “Good night.”

“It is a good night.” Nourd’s voice sounded strange to him. It was crackly and higher than normal.

Nourd watched them leave, then looked down at the parchment in his hand. He didn’t have any dead skin holding sacks of his own, but he could ask Master Gorkle for one. For once, he had something worth keeping.

#VolumeTwo #TheRightWords