Read Online The Marann by Sky Warrior Book Publishing - Free Book Online

Yreth,
high one. She has eleven seasons.”
    Five and a half , Marianne
thought.
    “And this is Kyza,” the Sural said to
Yreth, loosening the sling so the girl could see. “I hope she will
be the next Suralia. See? She is only in her first
season.”
    Yreth’s face took on a serious
expression. “She should wake up or she will miss the
festival.”
    “You may be correct.” The Sural gave
the girl’s nose a gentle tap. “But now you should return to your
father, or you also will miss the festival.”
    Her mouth formed a small O, and her
eyes went wide as she turned to run back to her father. “Fafee!”
she cried. “I want to see everything!”
    The Sural chuckled and nodded at the
man before turning to continue on his way, grateful the child had
distracted Marianne from asking about the theater crowd which had
reacted to the musician with the powerful gift. With one hand, he
settled the flower circlet in his hair. In truth, he had found the
child’s offer of it heart-warming.
    He should not have startled Marianne,
but the prankish festival mood in the city had overcome him. It
did, however, help to set the human tutor a little off-balance,
making it easier to redirect her attention. The child had done the
rest. Marianne seemed to have forgotten about the music.
    “Do you think there will be anything
here I can eat?” she asked, her eyes on the booths along the
street.
    “Possible,” he replied. “Did you bring
your scanning device?”
    “Right here.” She patted her… he had
heard her call it a skirt . Like robes, the peculiar
half-garment possessed pockets, and she seemed to have tucked the
food scanner into one.
    The dark green skirt fell from
waist to ankles. Tucked into that, she wore a white garment
covering her upper body and arms. The color combination was
outlandish—laborers wore that shade of green, and no one but the
Jorann wore white. Since no human belonged to any caste, his
daughter’s tutor should, by all logic, wear Suralia blue. Instead
she wore a different color every day. It was… strange and exotic,
much like the woman herself.
    A pleasant hum filled the air.
Marianne walked along the street, scanning the food at each booth,
the little device blinking red. He followed, nodding at the cooks
and the bystanders who bowed as he passed, observing as Marianne
smiled and exchanged words with them.
    “Phooey,” she muttered, as she reached
the last booth and the device still blinked red. The street opened
onto another, smaller square, this one hosting entertainers. Her
face brightened. “What’s this?”
    In the courtyard’s center, a musician
sat within a semi-circle of conical drums. He started up a beat,
and a few heartbeats later dancers joined him, gyrating and leaping
in a complicated pattern. Marianne hurried forward to stand with
those watching the display, delight shooting through
her.
    He had not moved from the square’s
edge when the dancers finished their performance and the spectators
formed a circle to dance around the drum musician. Kyza slept
through it all, while the nurse stood beside him, keeping her
senses fixed on her slumbering charge. Marianne returned, pleasure
flashing in her eyes.
    “Join them,” he said.
    She glanced back, biting her lower
lip. He sensed longing in her. “I don’t know the steps,” she
replied.
    “This dance is simple. I will teach
you.” He pulled the sling over his head, taking care not to wake
his daughter, and gave her an empathic caress before leaving her
cradled in the nurse’s arms. “Come,” he said, as he turned toward
the circle dance.
    The steps were, as he had said,
simple, and Marianne danced with enthusiasm after a few
repetitions. When she needed no further instruction, he gave
himself up to the dance, relishing the rare opportunity to interact
with ordinary Suralians.
    <<>>
    Marianne lounged in a garden gazebo,
savoring the crispness in the air from the approaching autumn. The
graceful pavilions in the garden had