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Chapter 4

THE SEVEN STONES

Adahan was the youngest of the Katikati pattern masters ever to rule over the masters. Fansé looked on as Lugus and Galen placed blue stones in a brown wooden plate, that lay in the middle of the pattern master's laboratory.

Kyrkon Tower kept watch over the plains, partially nestled inside the sandstone ridges of the red and yellow mountains it was carved from. In the old tongue the ancients who carved and built was called Maan. The room at the top of the tower where the Beadwork was kept for the Between, was off limits, only visited by the Elder and the Master Pattern Weaver. Master Adahan's study room in the middle of the tower, was close to the landing platform and the staircase snaking down to the sandstone valley below. The rooms below were used for reading and dining and a kitchen. Galen the tower's mechanical servant moved up between floors down tiny shafts connected with rope and wire and pulleys. It was far easier for the doll to move than take the staircase connecting the floors. The sun was shone bright and colorful tinctures in glass shone like a garden of lights colors rippled across sandstone walls. Fansé sat in the middle of the room, she struggled with the knots of the weave she was supposed to do and had nine more rows to weave and bind. New apprentices to the Katikati first learn to copy weaves, from ancient pattern texts and scrolls. She stopped and allowed herself a time to stretch her wings before she settled again with focused intent on the rest of the pattern work that she was supposed to complete. It was her own fault for struggling, her mind kept racing back to the stories Josefus and Lugus exchanged at breakfast and the Jauhar Kito, the beautiful jewel Lugus took from the Queen's dresser. She never dreamt that she would see the Castle in the Mountain, so well hidden, a scary and cold place that filled her with dread.

"Would you care to tell our young apprentice," he gestured at Fansé, "of the Jewel, they brought from the mountain?" Josefus looked at both, moved his weight from one foot to the other. He then scrutinized the incomplete beadwork on the table in front of Fansé, seemed to pause opened his beak slightly, but said nothing. Fansé tried to appear as cheerful and intelligent with a string that hung from her beak. Josefus closed his beak and returned his gaze to the outstretched plains on the outside.

"Josefus," Adahan smiled as he looked up at the old white crow who warmed himself in the midmorning sun, staring out across the plains.

"It's a story for another day" he said and ended the conversation with a short gruff caw.

Without saying anything, Adahan lifted an eyebrow, looked at Fansé and winked as he gestured that she should follow him as he walked toward the stairs leading down to the libraries. Fansé needed no second invitation and left the beadwork to follow the Master Pattern Weaver. When they were well out of earshot, Adahan turned to Fansé and said: "I want you to begin reading and interpreting the texts and beadwork that tells of the Histories of the Stones". Fansé's heart fluttered as much as her wings and body, as she scurried in flurries down the stairwell that was only dimly lit, and growing darker every step the descent.

“The Histories of Stones?” Fansé squinted. “Is the book in the library?” She flew ahead when they reached the part in the staircase where ropes connected to tiny pullies. She unclasped them and springs released a door and small windows. When all the doors were open, Adahan thanked her and continued inside the library. Fansé sat atop a half-opened door and followed the master inside.

“There’s no such book in the library,” gestured Master Adahan.

“But...” she cocked her head.

“There are scrolls and books and it will be up to you to read and see where it leads you”.

“But...” she frowned. “But, but there are so many books?”

“And when you’re done reading there will be only one book needed”

“I am sorry Adahan, I don’t understand”

“I want you to learn and read what you can find and make notes” Adahan looked serious. “It will be up to you to piece together the history of the stones”

She became very quiet.

“Master Josefus can help”, he waited to see Fansé’s expression.

“But he does not like me.”

“Do you like him”

“He won’t allow me alone down here?”

“Fansé — “ Adahan’s face turned dark a dark strip of hair fell over his cheek and he looked like a wolf for a few seconds. “He will help you, because you will ask him.”

“What about Lugus, Master Adahan?”, Fansé’s voice was soft and hollow.

“Lugus have important missions to fly”, he cannot be your guide for much longer.

Fansé nodded. The light inside was thankfully dim, because there were tears brimming and she felt it hard to keep her Raven form. Adahan walked to the middle of the room and placed three glow-sticks on the table. It shone with a white and silver shimmer. He went to the corner and placed three large tomes, wiping a few specs of dust from the leather binding. He positioned a bookstand and placed one of the tomes against the arms of the bookstand, he opened it to the Index and showed Fansé a fine string running from the middle of the books spine.

“Use this to page, when you get stuck, call for Galen, she’ll help you find the right page and take copies off the right shelves. Galen should help you put all the books back that you’re done with. Keep the libraries tidy and respect the lives inside the pages and the lives spent preserving the past.”


“Josefus thinks she is not ready yet for learning about the interpretation of patterns.”

“He finds fault with her weave work.”

“Is this why he would not tell her about the history of the Jauhar Kito?


Josefus' feathers shone like silver in the midmorning sun. He stared out the window and hardly acknowledged the Master as he stood next to the old crow. " "Why are you unwilling to help Fansè? "One can only help one that knows they need help" "But she has asked for help" "She does not know what to ask!" The white crow turned his gaze to Adahan, "when she is ready to understand she'll be ready to ask. Until she's not ready I cannot help.

For the fi-rst time, Adahan looked defeated. He sighed, visibly shaken. The complexities of the patterns in the lives of others are hidden in humans. Their architectures for the hidden temples of their hearts and mind only accessible to the few they deem holy. "I am supposed to find a key," AdahLan whispered aloud. But was she not supposed to be the key? Perhaps she is the key, she fits. The lock however is rusty. You found the door, you found the key. But there is a guard and the windows are drawn, there is no light inside.

In these halls, a thousand doors had un- locked and opened. The universe has a library and there are books and it keeps a diary it keeps record, not for retribution, but to not forget. Your life is just an entry and a scribble or a side note.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Kyikon plains, where cold and sharp edges hid warm fires that shone bright in rooms once filled with the laughter of a queen, court jesters, husbands fathers, counsellors, advisors and eventually the laughter that got less, conversations that turned into hushed tones, until in the months leading up to her death the only sounds were footsteps between the Queens too m, the a pot he caty. Tant s light steps leading and oftentimes introducing the visits of his father, Lord Vikandor. Hallways slowly sprang to short burst of life, in prep a ration of the funeral, the sky burial, the cutting of the chords, the dropping of her body, the cloth • clutched by the winds, her naked flesh blue, cold as ice breaking, falling down. hitting the ground coming to test for cation, the earth the snow to claim, feed and preserve what it deemed worthy.

Josephus, an old white crow, stated out toward Vik and or. He, in his present form, incapable of shedding tears. Painful stabs caused twitches all across his body his dull blue-blind eye aimed goal les and with no purpose as if staring into the past which could not be unravelled. Without letting the very fabric of the world come undone. When Fans é returned to the room from below, he kept hidden, watching. He felt a longing and pity. The hate and doubt subsided.

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