Of Roses and the Night

Kaleela's fingers worked swiftly as she put the finishing touches on the basket. The red of her night robe and her golden fur added to the light of the cheery fire by which she sat.

"It is late," said a deep, concerned voice. Altin stood next to his charge. The cougar could not master a severe look, and that put a smile on Kaleela's young face. "What troubles you?"

"Elder, the dream comes again," she answered reluctantly. Although Altin was older than she, the traditional honorific seemed silly to use. He had only seen 30 seasons.

"Then you must speak with him."

"He is a clan lord."

"All the more reason. This may be a matter of importance to all Thunderans. Perhaps that is why the dream is so strong and persistent."

"But I am not yet a full adult," Kaleela remarked, setting the basket aside. Although that may change very soon, she thought with a shudder.

Altin studied the completed basket, and frowned slightly. "You were born to study the stars, not, I'm afraid, make baskets. Although I must admit, you are getting better with the seasons." He reached for a blanket that rested on a chair, then draped it over her shoulders. "No matter what games our leaders play, and what favors they deny you, they cannot control your destiny."

"Lord Tygra does not speak for our clan."

"But the dream points to him. He may hold a secret."

"What does he know of the stars! He is an architect and a healer," she voiced petulantly to cover her fear.

Altin raised his hands. "Enough, youngling. I am tired. Do what you will, but no more late nights and shoddy work." He flung the basket into the flames before she could snatch it. The brushing of his loose black robe over smooth stones delicately accented his mutterings about the ungratefulness of orphans, especially intelligent female ones, as he moved back to his bedroom.

A feeling crossed her heart, and the cougar wondered what form of love it was.

*****

A light snow fell. Kaleela studied her boots. How long before she gained the courage to ring the bell that hung from a post near the tall hedge.

Remember your legacy.

The thought startled her. For an instant she recalled her proud mother and father. The nights that she had assisted them in their observatory on Thundera had proven to be the best times of her life.

"Making baskets is not so bad," she countered to herself. "After the exodus from Thundera, Altin of the Mountain clan gave me a home and a trade when no others in the cougar clans would."

But you are of the Mountain Sky clan.

"But not of the Star clan." And that had always been the problem. As the last of her people, she had no support for her study of astronomy. The Chi'ris'rin of the cougars had designated the people of the Star clan alone as the ones who were to study the heavens.

Anger rose in her breast. Fight for the night!

Kaleela yanked the rope and sounded the bell. It proved louder than she had anticipated, making her jump back in surprise.

A distant door opened. Footsteps approached the portal expertly woven into the hedge.

"Yes?" a baritone voice inquired. Tygra, Chi'ris'rin of a new clan for those of mixed race, suddenly stood before her in robes of mystic blue, as he swung back the hedge door.

She had not expected the lord to answer her summons. Where were his servants? Where was the extra time she needed to find more courage.

"You are Kaleela," he announced with subtle amusement. That he knew her name astonished her. Her face must have betrayed her feelings. "I met Altin in the market. Your guardian told me that you needed to speak with me, but about what...." He let the sentence drift gently away.

"A dream," she sputtered.

"Dreams are very important, and I put great stock in them," he replied. He gestured toward the cottage. "Let us repair to my home. Some sweet meats and hot tea will make the telling of dreams a fine activity for such a frigid day as this."

Keep your mind to the stars, Kaleela decided as she followed the tiger lord into his abode.

*****

The architect of Lion-o's city made a fine cup of tea. The sweet meats melted in her mouth. She felt herself relaxing despite her fears in the coziness of the cottage. Rugs kept the chill of the stone floor at bay. Their intricate patterns came not from Thunderan art, but from one with which she was not familiar. Who had chosen them? Perhaps the lady of the dwelling had made the selection. For a moment Kaleela wondered where the white tigress was, for it was common knowledge that Talitha and Tygra shared a deep bond. To see them together would have been pleasing. The stuff of legends, she mused.

"Tell me of the dream." The simple statement brought her to sharp attention. It was time to pay for Tygra's hospitality, and the silence and small talk between them evaporated.

"I saw you walk across a field of stars," she said with hesitation.

"And?"

"The field was not in the sky, but across polished rock. Then, I saw a mountain, and there was a dwelling carved into stone. There were silvery ruins."

The Thunderan lord rumbled in approval, "Go on."

Kaleela shook her head, still trying to make sense of all the images. "You gained wings," she finally admitted sheepishly.

The lord laughed, and his depth of sincerity astonished her, for he had recently known suffering. Not many suns had passed since a strange plague had killed some of his kin, while others had disappeared. That mirth had filled his heart was the most unexpected response. Still smiling, he leaned forward in his chair. "Did you see me carved in silvery stone too?"

Her jaw opened at the truth of his words, which restored his laughter.

"Do not torture the cub," an airy voice chided. The white tigress was shorter than she. Talitha's curves bespoke a level of physical maturity that she had not yet reached, yet Kaleela knew that they were also close in age. Talitha brushed the top of Tygra's mane with a light kiss. The gentle love made Kaleela's skin flush with embarrassment and excitement.

"Have you heard it all?" Tygra asked his mate.

Talitha warmed her hands by the fire, and nodded. "Chosen, I would say," she remarked casually to which Tygra nodded in agreement.

What knowledge had passed between them had eluded Kaleela. Although slightly annoyed at the exclusion, she waited patiently for their explanation. An image formed in her mind of the one thing she had forgotten to mention. "A blue rose!" she shouted, bolting from her chair.

"Now the story is complete," Talitha replied with satisfaction as she poured fresh tea.

*****

She had never known Altin to make a bad weave, but he had put several imperfections on the basket he currently worked. "It was you who told me to go to Lord Tygra," she said quietly as she watched him continue to manhandle the poor, malformed basket. "I won't journey with him until the spring when the weather improves."

The basket-maker started to reply, but gnashed his teeth instead. The weave went wrong again, and he finally pitched the straw monstrosity into the fire. "It's too dangerous!" he howled.

"I know," she answered calmly.

"What he told you of that mountain, and of his experiences there! If I had known, I would never have sent you to him." Altin rose and went to a cabinet hidden in the shadows away from the firelight. He returned with a green bottle and a pewter goblet, which he slammed on the table. His hands shook as he poured wine. He drank with one breath, the practice of having done it many times before quite evident in his skill.

"Would you deny my destiny?"

"You still do not know what that is, and a trip to this mountain may not tell you." He whispered as if to himself, "What god would inflict such danger on one so young? "

That he appeared about to cry unnerved her. Am I doing what is right? Kaleela wondered. But I must know if I am the one who will monitor the heavens in the service of Irri'in. She looped the strap of a satchel over her shoulder. "I am no longer as young as you would like me to be. Will you walk with me to the temple of Miritana?" she asked.

Altin shook his head. "It is unfitting for me to walk with you."

"May I return here after my bleeding time?"

"Your remaining time with me may be short. I have much to teach you, but I will do my best, if you still wish to study with me."

"I can only study the stars on clear nights. I like making baskets, but I wish you would get me more colorful materials to work. Straw is so drab."

"But functional," Altin added. A hint of a smile played across his sensitive face. He turned quickly back to the bottle and the goblet.

"Be well, Altin," she murmured as she left the basket-maker to his wine and his tears.