Free True Son by Lana Krumwiede Page A

what would it be?”
    “Oh, heavens. Such a question.”
    “No, really, Mam. What would you like to do?”
    “I’ve always liked working with animals,” she said.
    “Maybe you should. I could talk to Bynon, out at the farm.”
    Mam laughed. “No, Tae. This is the perfect place for me. Challis lets me talk when I need to and hush when I need to. We’re catching up on all the time we missed. And I keep my hands busy. I never would have guessed how good it feels to keep your hands busy.” She knotted her thread and switched to a different color.
    Challis came back and handed Taemon a cup. He took a small sip of the citrusy drink. Her odd-tasting drinks were usually steeped with herbs, and he was always a little leery of them. This one was surprisingly tasty.
    “So the delegation leaves tomorrow,” Challis said. “How are you feeling about going back over the mountain?”
    “Okay, I guess. I just hope we can make some progress.”
    Challis picked up her knitting and began working on her latest scarf. “I think it’s a good idea. I’m not sure it will work, but I think it’s a good idea.”
    Taemon took another sip. He wasn’t sure what to make of Challis’s comment. She used to have precognition, a form of psi that gave her glimpses into the future. Her psi was gone now, but Taemon still wondered if she knew more than she let on.
    Just then, Amma came running up to Challis’s porch. She was nearly breathless, and she had a shoulder bag with something heavy in it. “Taemon, I need to talk to you. Can you spare a minute?”
    Taemon set his drink down and gave his mother an apologetic look. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
    “Remember the book that Vangie gave me?” Amma asked when they’d gone a little ways off. “It’s all about psi, all the different forms. How they work, how they connect. Mostly I think you already know that stuff — probably better than anyone else. But after that . . . Skies, Taemon, there’s some really wild stuff in that book. I don’t know if it’s true or if he was just some klonk-headed nutcake.”
    Amma was talking much faster than she usually did. And she was not the type to fluster easily.
    “What kind of wild stuff?”
    “He tells Nathan’s story in a way I’ve never heard it before. If what he says is true . . .” She shook her head, unable even to complete the thought. “Let’s just say it made me wonder what the Republikites’ history books say about Nathan.”
    “From what Gevri said, they think of Nathan as a villain,” Taemon said. “Someone who stole a portion of their land and weakened the soil, causing a hundred-year famine.”
    “And yet we revere him as a prophet, with no mention of famines or land theft. It makes me wonder if the truth is somewhere in between. This book certainly implies as much. Anyway, I think you should read the last three chapters,” she said, handing him the shoulder bag. “Tonight. Before the delegation leaves.”
    “Okay,” Taemon said doubtfully.
    Amma took hold of his arm. “I know it sounds klonky, but the information in this book might just change the way people see the past. And what if that . . . what if that’s powerful enough to bring peace between our two countries? Just think of it — General Sarin could change his mind, we could avoid the war, and we might even be able to get all the books back!”
    Taemon frowned. “I don’t know. It’s not easy to change the way people see the past.”
    “I know, I know,” Amma said. “But can it really be a coincidence that Vangie brought me this book just before we leave with the delegation? Maybe this is some sort of . . . some sort of gift.”
    Taemon looked at the shoulder bag, then at Amma. What if she was right? What if this was what the Heart of the Earth meant when she’d said Taemon would yet act on behalf of Deliverance?
    Amma looked back at Challis’s porch, and Taemon followed her gaze. Mam and Challis were watching. “I’d better get back,” Taemon