when the stream's so nearby."
"The tenders will show you how it works," he explained.
"Tenders?"
"The one who brought your food? That's a tender. They'll help you however you want. And a guardian will be checking on you every day."
Good. Thomas seemed to know how things worked. It would be a help, Kira thought, because it all seemed so new, so foreign. "Have you lived here a long time?" she asked politely.
"Yes," he replied. "Since I was quite young."
"How did it happen that you came here?"
The boy frowned, thinking back. "I had just begun carving. I was a very little tyke, but somehow I had discovered that if I took a sharp tool and a piece of wood, I could make pictures.
"Everyone thought it was quite amazing." He laughed. "I guess it was."
Kira laughed a little too, but she was remembering herself, very small, finding that her fingers had a kind of magic to them when she held the colored threads, seeing her mother's astonishment and the look on the face of the Guardian. It must have been the same, she thought, for this boy.
"Somehow the Guardians heard about my work. They came to our cott and admired it."
So similar, Kira thought.
"Then," Thomas continued, "not long after, my parents were both killed during a storm. Struck by lightning, both at once."
Kira was shocked. She had heard of
trees
felled by lightning. But not people. The people didn't go out during thunderstorms. "Were you there? How did you stay safe?"
"No, I was alone at the cott. My parents were doing an errand of some sort. I remember that a messenger had been sent for them. But then some guardians came and got me and told me of their deaths. It was fortunate that they knew of me and felt that my work was of value, even though I was still small. Otherwise, I would have simply been given away. But instead, they brought me here.
"I've been here ever since." He gestured around the room. "For a long time I practiced, and learned. And I've made ornaments for many of the guardians. Now, though, I do real work. Important work." He pointed, and she could see that a long piece of wood was resting against the table, leaning in the same way that she leaned her walking stick. But this stick was intricately decorated, and from the shavings on the table she could tell that the boy had been working on it.
"They've given me wonderful tools," Thomas told her.
Outside, the bell rang. Kira was disconcerted. Back in the cott, the sound of the bell meant that it was time to go to work. "Should I go back to my quarters?" she asked. "I was going to walk to the stream."
Thomas shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You can do whatever you want. There are no real rules. Only that you are required to do the work you were brought here for. They'll check on your work every day.
"I'm going out now to visit my mother's sister. She has a new tyke. A girl. Look! I'm taking a toy." He reached into his pocket and showed Kira an intricately carved bird. It was hollow; he held it to his mouth and made it whistle. "I made it yesterday," he explained. "It took time from my regular work, but not much. It was easy to do.
"I'll be back for lunch," he added, "because I have work to do this afternoon. Shall I bring my lunch tray to your quarters so that we can eat together?"
Kira agreed happily.
"And look," he said, "here comes the tender who'll pick up the morning trays. She's very nice. You ask her — No, wait. I'll ask her."
While Kira watched curiously, Thomas approached the tender and spoke briefly to her. She nodded.
"You follow her back to your quarters, Kira," Thomas said. "You don't need to go to the stream. She'll explain the bathroom to you. See you at lunch!" He put the little carved bird into his pocket, closed the door to his room, and headed down the corridor. Kira followed the tender back the way she had come.
Jamison came to her room shortly after lunch. Thomas had eaten and hurried away to his quarters to resume work. Kira had just gone into the small room lined
"The tenders will show you how it works," he explained.
"Tenders?"
"The one who brought your food? That's a tender. They'll help you however you want. And a guardian will be checking on you every day."
Good. Thomas seemed to know how things worked. It would be a help, Kira thought, because it all seemed so new, so foreign. "Have you lived here a long time?" she asked politely.
"Yes," he replied. "Since I was quite young."
"How did it happen that you came here?"
The boy frowned, thinking back. "I had just begun carving. I was a very little tyke, but somehow I had discovered that if I took a sharp tool and a piece of wood, I could make pictures.
"Everyone thought it was quite amazing." He laughed. "I guess it was."
Kira laughed a little too, but she was remembering herself, very small, finding that her fingers had a kind of magic to them when she held the colored threads, seeing her mother's astonishment and the look on the face of the Guardian. It must have been the same, she thought, for this boy.
"Somehow the Guardians heard about my work. They came to our cott and admired it."
So similar, Kira thought.
"Then," Thomas continued, "not long after, my parents were both killed during a storm. Struck by lightning, both at once."
Kira was shocked. She had heard of
trees
felled by lightning. But not people. The people didn't go out during thunderstorms. "Were you there? How did you stay safe?"
"No, I was alone at the cott. My parents were doing an errand of some sort. I remember that a messenger had been sent for them. But then some guardians came and got me and told me of their deaths. It was fortunate that they knew of me and felt that my work was of value, even though I was still small. Otherwise, I would have simply been given away. But instead, they brought me here.
"I've been here ever since." He gestured around the room. "For a long time I practiced, and learned. And I've made ornaments for many of the guardians. Now, though, I do real work. Important work." He pointed, and she could see that a long piece of wood was resting against the table, leaning in the same way that she leaned her walking stick. But this stick was intricately decorated, and from the shavings on the table she could tell that the boy had been working on it.
"They've given me wonderful tools," Thomas told her.
Outside, the bell rang. Kira was disconcerted. Back in the cott, the sound of the bell meant that it was time to go to work. "Should I go back to my quarters?" she asked. "I was going to walk to the stream."
Thomas shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You can do whatever you want. There are no real rules. Only that you are required to do the work you were brought here for. They'll check on your work every day.
"I'm going out now to visit my mother's sister. She has a new tyke. A girl. Look! I'm taking a toy." He reached into his pocket and showed Kira an intricately carved bird. It was hollow; he held it to his mouth and made it whistle. "I made it yesterday," he explained. "It took time from my regular work, but not much. It was easy to do.
"I'll be back for lunch," he added, "because I have work to do this afternoon. Shall I bring my lunch tray to your quarters so that we can eat together?"
Kira agreed happily.
"And look," he said, "here comes the tender who'll pick up the morning trays. She's very nice. You ask her — No, wait. I'll ask her."
While Kira watched curiously, Thomas approached the tender and spoke briefly to her. She nodded.
"You follow her back to your quarters, Kira," Thomas said. "You don't need to go to the stream. She'll explain the bathroom to you. See you at lunch!" He put the little carved bird into his pocket, closed the door to his room, and headed down the corridor. Kira followed the tender back the way she had come.
Jamison came to her room shortly after lunch. Thomas had eaten and hurried away to his quarters to resume work. Kira had just gone into the small room lined
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