When the new morrow arrives, we drink our sap and feed our daughter from a cup. Knowing this is our last morning with her, Sash and I are somber and quiet.
“I don’t even want to think about coming back here without her,” I say.
Sash’s eyes redden and it takes her a few seconds to speak. “Neither do I. We’ll go to Home later and talk to Marc about visiting her. We can stay for a while to make sure she’s alright.”
“Sure,” I reply, but her suggestion brings very little comfort to me.
As we’re getting baby girl dressed in shorts and a tank top, three sharp, consecutive clangs of a bell resonate through the hills outside. A fountain of royal-blue light rises from our daughter’s palms—the sign for the Naming Ritual.
Since it will take a while for the Keepers and children to reach Sanctuary, Sash and I meander across the Delta towards the south. Secured in a carrier strapped to the front of Sash’s chest, baby girl attentively watches the countryside pass by us.
When we reach one of the hills overlooking the Tree of Vision, Sash and I sit in the grass. Our daughter can’t sit up on her own yet, so Sash props her up on her lap. While we wait for the others to arrive, baby girl babbles excitedly, often pointing at the enormous Tree of Vision in the crimson meadow below us.
The Keepers and children eventually cross over the top of a nearby hill. Two of the Keepers have infants in carriers strapped to their chests, and the Keepers and older children are all panting. I assume they ran at least part of the way since it took them less than three hours to cover the fifteen miles from Home. I’m surprised they didn’t summon Travelers to help transport the children, but Sash tells me that it’s a tradition for them to walk to Naming Rituals as a group.
When they reach the bottom of the hill, the Keepers and children form a row in front of the Tree. On one side of them and also facing the Tree, the seven Disciples gather in a small semi-circle. A gigantic branch suddenly snaps into the silvery bell hanging from the towering steel pole. Before the first ring subsides, the limb pops into the bell again.
“It’s time,” Sash says softly.
After Sash returns our daughter to the carrier, we both stand from the grass. I pick up our spears and we walk down the hill. With our backs to the Tree of Vision, we stop in front of the group of Disciples. Eval takes a few steps forward to stand directly in front of Sash.
“You’ve preserved our balance by bringing a new child into our world,” Eval says graciously. “All of Krymzyn is grateful to you.”
“It’s my honor,” Sash replies half-heartedly.
“It’s now time for the child to receive a name. Please present her to the Tree of Vision.”
Eval and Sash bow to each other. After Sash lifts baby girl out of the carrier, she removes the straps from her shoulders and tosses the carrier to the grass. She turns to me and holds baby girl up in front of my face. Completely ignoring me, our daughter points at the Tree of Vision. Her hand quivers with excitement.
“Bugachee!” she exclaims.
“That’s right,” I say quietly. “Big tree.”
I lean to her and kiss her forehead. She’s so enamored with the Tree that she doesn’t notice my display of affection. Trying to maintain a brave face, I look at Sash. The sorrow darkening her face sinks my heart to new depths of sadness. Sash holds my gaze for a moment and then cuddles our daughter to her chest.
As Sash walks across the meadow towards the trunk, outstretched branches calmly wave over her head. Like burning embers dancing against a dark sky, the yellow leaves flame in front of the gray clouds. When she reaches the base of the tree, Sash sinks to one knee. She lowers our child to the ground and rests her on her back in a grassy triangle between two enormous roots. Baby girl reaches both of her hands up towards her mother. Sash tenderly takes them in her grasp while whispering something.
It’s a struggle for Sash to stand. She begins to rise but then crouches back down and rests a hand on our daughter’s head. After she finally stands up and walks away from the Tree, she locks her eyes on mine. As they fill with dampness, she clenches her bottom lip between her teeth.
When she reaches me, Sash takes my hand in hers and stands by my side facing the Tree. As though they blow in on winds from four different directions, the four letters in our daughter’s name float into my ears.
“A . . . V . . . E . . . N.”
“Aven,” I say to Sash. “What a beautiful name.”
Without ever looking away from our daughter, Sash nods her agreement. Sash’s eyes are so glassy and distant that I wonder if she’s having one of her glimpses of the future. Eval addresses the Keepers.
“I present to you for your care, Aven, child of Krymzyn,” she announces.
Marc takes a step forward from the group and bows to Eval. Except for Sash, everyone’s eyes follow him as he walks towards the Tree. Oblivious to everything else, Sash continues to stare at our newly-named daughter.
Marc makes it less than halfway to the trunk when a giant limb on one
