“As you saw during your tour,” Marc replies, “we always have spare rooms. Much of the time, seven children dwell at Home as well as several Apprentices who aren’t mature enough yet for a habitat of their own. There’s plenty of space. We already have a cavern prepared for Aven that no one else will use.”
Still apparently debating the situation in her mind, Eval addresses Marc again. “Do you think Sash’s plan for Darkness will work?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” he answers. “Kyra will be Aven’s primary Keeper. If Sash or Chase can summon her when they’re on their way, she can wait for them by an entrance to Home.”
Eval silently deliberates the plan and then returns her attention to Sash. “Although I have my concerns, I believe Krymzyn has made it clear that this is how it should be.”
Sash nods her head. “As I said, we’ll make it work.”
“Do you want us to take Aven with us for the remainder of the morrow?” Marc asks Sash.
“No. We’ll bring her to Home first thing on the morrow.”
He bows to her. “We look forward to caring for her.”
“I’m grateful for your help,” Sash says.
The Keepers and children turn away and walk up the side of the hill to the north. As Maya climbs the slope, she looks over her shoulder at me.
“I’ll take care of her,” she mouths.
I smile at her and nod my head. Except for Eval, the Disciples all stroll towards a hill on the eastern side of the meadow. Eval waits until they’re out of earshot to speak to us again.
“I don’t believe the reason for this happening is clear yet, but I’m certain there’s more to it than we know. I don’t need to remind you that a child’s safety is of the utmost importance. A child can be at great risk during Darkness. The branches of sustaining trees don’t differentiate between children and adults. If a Murkovin enters the Delta, a lone child is easy prey.”
“We’ll never let her out of our sight,” Sash replies.
“I guess this explains a lot,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Eval asks.
“The reason we can both travel. Why Sash senses Darkness before it comes. It all makes sense now.”
“Your points might be valid,” Eval says. “None the less, it’s important for you to remember that your contributions to the balance of Krymzyn are as critical as anyone else’s. You can’t let having her with you interfere with your purposes.”
“We would never let that happen,” Sash tells her.
Eval’s eyes drift to Aven and she speaks in almost a whisper. “She looks exactly as you did at your Naming Ritual.”
After Eval looks at Sash, they stare at each other for several seconds. As I’ve noticed a few times in the past, they seem to silently share something deep and meaningful. Even though they never mention it or show an outright display of affection, the innate bond between mother and daughter is clearly in focus. Eval is the first to break the silence.
“I suggest you use the remainder of the morrow to fully plan how the two of you will manage the situation.”
“We will,” Sash replies.
“Don’t hesitate to see me if I can help you figure anything out.”
“Thank you,” Sash and I say at the same time.
Eval bows to us and then walks away. While Sash loads Aven in the baby carrier, I grab our spears from the ground. With Aven secure on the front of her chest, Sash takes my hand in hers. We walk up a hill in the direction of our habitat.
“We can move the table from my studio to where it used to be,” I say. “I can set up my easel in front of the painting of you at Ovin’s tree.”
“Why?” she asks.
“So that Aven has her own room.”
“We can keep her cradle by our bed for a while,” she replies. “I don’t want you to lose your space for painting.”
“It’s fine. As she gets older, she’ll need her own room. When we have another child, they can share it.”
Before either of us can say anything else, Aven slaps her hands to Sash’s cheeks.
“Mama!” she shouts.
Sash and I stop dead in our tracks at Aven’s first real word. After Sash smiles at our daughter, she opens her eyes wide at me with feigned exasperation.
“Do you remember what we talked about?” she asks.
“I only said ‘Mommy’ that one time,” I say in my defense.
Aven turns her face to me and reaches out a hand. “Dada!”
Sash lowers her eyebrows. The pretend mad in her glare is replaced by genuine. “I told you that I don’t think we should use those terms.”
“The thing is,” I say, “I never once said ‘Daddy’ to her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I answer.
“Then how would she learn that word?” she asks.
“I have no idea.”
Sash looks down at Aven’s face again.
“Mama,” our daughter says in a soft voice that melts my heart.
“I guess it’s meant to be,” Sash whispers.
After we return to our habitat, Sash and I discuss how to rearrange everything so that Aven has her own room. While we’re in my studio taking inventory of items that can be moved to the shelves in the main cavern, I go to my calendar to make a notation of Aven’s Naming Ritual. With so much of my recent time devoted to Sash and our daughter, I didn’t even realize that today is my twenty-fourth birthday on Earth.
Sash and I spend the rest of the afternoon walking around the Delta with Aven. We eventually end up on the Empty Hill and sit in the grass. With Aven resting on my lap, I lean to Sash and kiss her cheek.
“Happy birthday,” I say.
“What does that mean?” she asks.
“Do you remember when I explained how we track years on Earth?”
“I remember.”
“Every three hundred and sixty-five morrows from the morrow of their birth, a person has a birthday. It’s to celebrate another year in that person’s life.”
“That’s an odd number,” she says.
“That’s how long it takes for the Earth
