Free Moongather by Jo Clayton Page A

hall. As she followed him, she looked about curiously, saw a number of alcoves sealed off with bronze slabs like the door to her room. The corridor wound downward, widened abruptly into a high-walled, four-sided court open to the clean blue of the sky.
    A hundred eyes watched as she stepped, blinking, into the brilliant sunlight. Cages lined two of the four walls of the court, walls made of the same shiny black-brown stone as the tower. Each cage was roomy enough to provide its inhabitant with pacing or climbing room. Since the shapes and sizes of the beasts varied considerably, so did the sizes and shapes of the cages. There were dead sections of trees in some, ledges of molded rock, paddings of straw or gravel on the solid floors; in some cases a total environment was provided for the beast, nothing living, though, no green in any cage. Each cage had its feeding tray and waterwell. She recognized several of the animals—chinin with pups about two passages old, an unhappy looking vinat, a prowling irritated sicamar, several carrion birds of the kind that followed the herds—but most of the creatures were strange. There was one sad-faced grey beast with long skinny arms and legs that looked like a parody of man. She watched it as it stared at her then began rooting about in its straw. It startled a giggle out of her when it came up with a piece of nutshell and threw it at her. She dodged the shell and started toward the chinin.
    â€œSerroi, come here.” The Noris sounded amused but she hastened to his side. She was still uncertain about him. He’d done nothing to hurt her, had, in fact, taken good care of her, but she still didn’t know what he wanted from her and he changed sometimes into something she didn’t know. She was gaining a certain amount of assurance, progressing step by tentative step, but she did sense there were things he wouldn’t accept from her. He smiled down into her eager face—but changed again, an empty charming smile; he’d withdrawn himself, she felt he was tired to trying to keep tied to her needs against his own need to soar. “These animals will be your responsibility for the coming year,” he said. “Keep them well and content, feed them, water them, give them exercise. Open any cages you feel safe about Go up and down between your room and the court whenever you wish, day or night. Anything you need my servants will bring you.”
    Serroi plucked nervously at threads in the embroidery on her cloak. “Will I see you?”
    He was silent a long time. She sneaked several glances at him, wondering. He was staring at the cages, not seeing them, an odd expression on his face as if she’d startled him again and he’d startled himself by his reaction to her question. She endured the long silence as best she could. He was thinking and when he’d finished, he’d give her an answer.
    He looked down at her, his eyes warming again. “You can come talk to me. I’d like that.” He swung a hand in a wide gesture, encompassing all the cages. “Start getting to know the beasts, Serroi. Get yourself settled in your room. My servants will give you your first lessons in writing later this afternoon.” He looked away from her, gazing instead into the featureless blue above. “I’ll send for you after the evening meal.” His feet still making no sound on the stone flags, he walked quickly to the center of the court where a gleaming copper pipe rose from the paving stones. The top end made an abrupt right-angled turn with a bronze hook projecting from a vertical slot. “Come here, Serroi.” When she stood beside him, he pointed at the hook. “Pull down on that.”
    Serroi wrapped her small fingers about the hook and tugged. Water gushed from the pipe’s end. Laughing, she thrust her free hand into the cool rushing stream, bent and drank, then let the hook snap back and straightened to look up at the