Counters of Stars

When Kediil, the rogue anadi healer, rides out of the wilderness and into the first burgeoning settlement of the nomadic Jokka, she is astonished. The Jokka do not settle; certainly, Kediil won't, because she gave up everything for freedom. The benefits of this collection of houses and water sources are compelling, though, and that was without the added promise of companionship: of Serel, the builder and dreamer, responsible for recreating a het out of the Age of Mystery; and Winoña, an anadi in whom Kediil sees herself, if she had been able to make a different choice.

But Kediil's choice—stay or go—may be the least of those before the Jokka of Ke Bakil's nascent town, and one wanderer may be the only thing preventing the entire experiment from dying stillborn in the dust....

At long last, a key piece of Jokku history is made plain for longtime fans of the world. Come to the fire and hear the true tale of how het Serean was founded!

This novella is available only as an ebook at this time.

Excerpt from Counters of Stars

I had to see her again.

At the bottom of the ramp I halted again, nose lifted and mouth parted so I could sample the air, taste the water in it. My first sight of the anadi of Clan—no, House—Nudet was of a sleeper in one of the alcoves. Of course: they had no reason to rise early, and no environmental cues to order their sleeping. Here underground they could rest as long as they needed, wake when they were ready. No more the tyranny of a nomad’s schedule… they were free.

But as I guessed, my anadi was not dawdling. I followed the tunnel to the storeroom, and as I expected, she was already awake, at work on her odd beaded contraption. The sound of my footsteps should have alerted her, but she was concentrating intently enough that she didn’t raise her face until my shadow fell over her and then… then she looked up at me. An impish smile broke over her face, alive with intelligence and interest, and it stole my breath. “You were looking for me.”

“I was,” I admitted. I gestured toward the other chair at her table. “May I…?”

“Of course.”

I joined her, spreading out my packs to give my hands something to do. Winoña watched as I pulled out the grinding stone, the knife, the satchels of herbs. “You came to work?”

“I rarely have company while I do,” I said. “I thought it might be pleasant for a change. To have conversation.”

She grinned, showing off delicate fangs. For an anadi, they were broader than expected, and blunter, but they were fully as long as a female’s typical needle-thin fangs. The combination charmed me, or maybe it was solely Winoña. Maybe everything about her charmed me. “I like conversation too. Usually I have to wait for the other anadi to wake, or one of the eperu to stop by after their dawn chores.” She resumed sanding one of her beads. “Ke Serel says you travel all over the back of the world. Did you stop here to resupply?”

I shook my head. “I’m here to—well, it may sound strange, but I’m here to look at this thing Serel’s made.”

Winoña laughed. “So you’re curious? I understand that! When Nudet bought me off the back of a wagon they almost returned me. I was into everything, poking at bricks and half-built rooms. Serel was afraid a rock would fall on my head.”

I loved this revelation, imagining it. “So you were here when they started expanding? I don’t remember you from the first time I was here, when they had that initial building.”

“I was!” Winoña paused to run a thumb over her bead, find the finish inadequate, resume sanding. She had beautiful hands, as delicate as an emodo’s. Perhaps she’d been born one? “They were just beginning to build this larger, more permanent building when Serel arranged to buy me. So I have been here for all of it, from Serel’s negotiations with Ukunis to its purchases of all the new eperu labor.”

“So it truly had all the doing of this, then,” I said, eyes wide. “In a hundred years—a thousand! They will talk of Serel the Settler.”

“You suppose?” Winoña asked, wistful. “I often wonder. Are we present at the beginning of a new day in the lives of our people? Or will we become another truedark fancy to be told to children? Will someone write of us when we’re gone? And will they tell the truth, or will we have to pick the truth out from the parts they made up?”

I glanced at her sharply, then took a bunch of weed-needles and began dicing them, releasing their astringent odor.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said with great calm. “I am over-thoughtful for an anadi. My fingers are too nimble. Was I born some other sex? Have I not finished Turning?”

“Actually, I was thinking how odd it was to have thoughts similar to mine repeated to me by someone else.” I lifted my eyes and found her studying me. She had eyes like sunrise, but by the lamplight I couldn’t tell how intense the hue. I had never seen her outside… would she shine there? Would I be dazzled? “I am also anadi, Winoña, no matter what I wear or how I live. If I find you a wonder, it’s not because I expected stupidity and found intelligence. It’s because I expected a stranger and found kin.”