Free Below the Root by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

with a great procession down the central aisle of the assembly hall and out onto the public branchways of Orbora. Led by the Ol-zhaan and followed by hundreds of singing, shouting Kindar, Raamo and Genaa and their families were led out of the great hall and across the city center to their new nid-places on the third Northeast branchpath of Grandgrund.
    Arriving before a new and spacious nid-place, the Ol-zhaan escorted the D’ok family onto the large open dooryard, and there, as two novice Ol-zhaan held back the door hangings, D’ol Regle asked Raamo to turn once more to the crowd and respond to its acclaim. With his family beside him, Raamo raised his hands in a gesture of gratitude and response as the shouts and cheers increased in intensity; they did not fade until at last he and his family were permitted to retire to the privacy of their new home. As the noise of the crowd dwindled, D’ol Regle spoke to them briefly concerning their new privileges and responsibilities; and then he, too, left and they were alone.
    The room, the common room of their new nid-place, was enormous, and furnished in a manner far beyond the means of ordinary Kindar. In the place of the usual chairs and lounges fashioned of hardened tendril, this room contained many pieces carved from inlaid wood and covered with richly ornamented pillows. Since all woodwork was slowly and laboriously done by hand tools with cutting edges fashioned from trencher-beak, such furnishings were extremely rare and valuable. Walking slowly to the center of the room, the D’ok family stared uneasily at their magnificent surroundings.
    A strange transformation had begun to come over them. Where, a moment before they had been glowing, shining, smiling—as alight with excitement and emotion as newly caught moonmoths—they were now suddenly limp and silent. Raamo moved slowly to the nearest chair and collapsed into it. He sat for many minutes, as unaware of his surroundings as if he were deep in sleep, as he listened to the thunderous reverberating echoes that filled his mind. Perhaps his eyes had rested on Pomma for a long time before he awakened to what he was seeing.
    Curled into the corner of a carved panwood lounge, Pomma seemed reduced to the size of a sima, her pale face withered and wizened with exhaustion. Seated on opposite sides of the room, Hearba and Valdo, lost in their own minds, seemed not to have noticed. Crossing to the lounge, Raamo pulled Pomma into his lap, where she curled against his chest like a baby treebear. Softly he began to sing a Psalm of Peace, the one that likened the fall of the night rain to warm soft voices. The psalm had always been one of Pomma’s favorites; and as Raamo sang, she raised her head and smiled weakly.
    Soon after, Valdo and Hearba joined in the singing, and as the moments passed, the recurring returning rhythms and the intricate close harmonies brought the singers back to at least a portion of their usual peaceful-ness and close communion.
    “But we can’t stay here tonight,” Hearba said suddenly, when the psalm was over. “All our belongings are still in our old nid-place in Skygrund.”
    As if in answer, a woman appeared in the inner doorway. “I am Ciela,” she said. “I am assigned as a helper in your nid-place. You will find, I think, that everything you need is here. You may, of course, send for any of your old possessions if you think you will have further need of them. But this nid-place has been provided for you with the best of everything. Food, clothing, furniture, tapestries—”
    “Baya,” Pomma cried suddenly. “I want Baya.”
    The woman, Ciela, smiled. “Baya, too, has been supplied,” she said, and disappearing briefly, she returned with the whimpering sima, who immediately scampered to Pomma and, leaping into her arms, clung to her neck.
    Smiling, Hearba offered her palms to the woman in greeting. “I thank you,” she said, when the greeting was completed, “for your kindness in coming