Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Or…we could eat and return to the furs? And I can kiss all my favorite places upon your body.”
Tia chuckles, turning her head to glance up at me. “Hol day?”
“It might take all of the day, indeed,” I muse, guessing at the other part of her words. “I have many favorites.”
She offers me another tidbit, reaching back, and I nibble it from her fingers. “Loom yes,” she says after a moment. “Eyetink—”
There is a noisy rattle just outside the hut, making me jump to my feet. Tia scrambles for the furs, and I look for a weapon.
“S’door,” Tia calls, throwing a fur at me. “Door!”
She gestures frantically at the entrance, even as she slides a tunic over her naked form, and it takes me a moment longer to follow.
“Ooos der?” Tia calls out.
Ah. The entrance.
“Noj’me the Attendant,” calls out a far-too-cheerful voice. “May I enter?”
Tia’s eyes go wide and she slides the blankets over her bare legs, gesturing at me. I wrap the fur around my hips in a loose kilt and then grab my discarded belt and tie it on. Tia’s hut is a mess of discarded clothes and tousled furs. We have not been paying attention to keeping things tidy these last few days, and I pick up a few scattered items even as I head for the entrance.
I open the door, squinting at the brightness outside, and a cold gust of wind strikes my face.
“Gesswe gunnahaf cumpnee hafterall,” Tia mutters behind me.
Noj’me gives us a bright smile as she steps inside. “Greetings to you both! I hope it is all right that I pay you a visit. Set’nef the Wanderer said I should leave you be, but I figure one does not find the answer to a question if one does not ask, eh?” She pushes past me and rubs her sleeves. “It is quite cold outside. Your fire is so low—do you need help with it?”
“We were warm enough,” I say, and it is an effort to remain polite as Noj’me settles herself by the fire pit. The hut has been cozy enough, but now that Noj’me has entered, so has the chill. I let the flap fall once more, then pull another fur over myself as I move to sit next to Tia, and tuck another fur around her.
She smiles up at me, but her smile is forced.
I understand how she feels. I am struggling not to feel resentful of Noj’me’s presence here. When it was simply myself and Tia in this hut, I could forget about duty. I could forget about my father, waiting below for my return, or the rebels who might even now be plotting against him. Noj’me is a reminder of my people, from the beaded necklaces she wears atop her fur tunic to the horns that she has decorated with little fur puffs on the ends. I know she is only being friendly and inquisitive—and it is the Attendant’s duty to learn as much as possible—but I still want her to leave.
I want to push her back out onto the cold beach and close the flap of the door, and forget we ever saw her. Pull Tia in my arms again and not think about the rest of the world.
Noj’me looks around the hut as I settle furs around my mate. Her gaze moves to the loom and she turns to look at me. “Did you break that?”
“No. We cannot figure it out and I did not have time to ask.”
She chuckles and jumps to her feet, her tail swishing. She moves to the loom, eyes it, and then moves the comb-like bar and props another up. Immediately, the threads straighten and Tia gasps, forgetting all about me. My mate crawls across the hard floor to the loom and starts touching everything. “Dis?” she asks Noj’me.
“That is the heddle. You had it in the wrong place. It fits into one of these sets of notches, to raise half of the strings. Look. You create a gap between the warp threads here—that is the shed—the shed rod makes the space bigger—and you feed the weft thread through the space. There are two shed rods on this loom, and perhaps that is why you have struggled. They are used in combination with your heddle to create more intricate patterns. Here, let me show you.”
Tia’s eyes are wide as Noj’me gives a demonstration, and when she pulls the comb down, it settles the new thread against the rest of the half-woven project. When my mate makes an incredulous sound, I know she is happy.
Some of my grudging sourness at Noj’me’s presence fades. “We thank you for your help. We have been looking at it for many eves now, trying to figure it out.”
“Not trying very hard,” Noj’me teases. “In fairness, you have been distracted.”