Homes say much about the people who live in them. Pay attention to where someone chooses to live, and to the people he lives with.
—Collected Wisdom of the Ka'andesi Peoples, as told to Inalia Kenobi, Chronicler of the Ch'lliear
Ierei and I weren't surprised to see my father on the roof of the main house as we came to a halt in the courtyard. He couldn't see us coming, but most days, his sharp ears could pick up the faint whine of the repulsorboard even through the wind on the plains. He almost always knew someone was coming toward the house before anyone else did. We hopped off the board, both automatically waving as we waited for him to make his way down to us.
Homes in our clan were actually more like compounds, and were built like interlocking wheels or gears. At each hub is an open courtyard—or at least a small plot of earth, depending on the size of the family and the wealth of the land. Doors were arranged symmetrically around the courtyard walls, and in the spaces between them, there were winding steps which lead up to a balcony that wrapped around the entire enclosure. Foldable ladders could be extended from the roof to the balcony or pulled up again from the top. Dad turned and gave the nearest ladder a light kick, then scrambled down. Most adults find the steps a convenient enough point of access from the balcony to the courtyard below, but more than once I'd seen my father grab the knotted ropes that Ierei and I tied from the balcony rails and swing down the way we did. Today he didn't, which probably meant that my mom was still lurking in the kitchen and aware of everything that was going on outside. Rooms are layered around the courtyard walls in rings, and short, wide enclosed passages extend from them like spokes. The wheels are laid out so that each set of spokes is nestled in the open spaces of the one beside it, and open doorways or smaller corridors allow movement between one wheel and another. Sound travelled easily, and from the kitchen in the main house, it was possible to hear almost everything that went on in the complex.
Dad hurried down the steps, walking stick in hand but never actually touching the ground in front of him. At home, the familiar rhythmic tongue clicking that he used as a means of echolocation was the only indication of blindness. Most people took it for an eccentric habit until they knew him well enough to realize that he couldn't see. I rarely thought about it at all, except as a gauge of his temper. I could tell whether I was in for a lecture or a real punishment by the volume and tone of his clicking. This time, Ierei and I glanced at each other and let out a joint sigh of relief. He was in an oddly good mood given the fact that he'd had his noon meal delayed. As soon as he reached us, the edge of the carved oak staff tapped the side of the repulsorboard.
"Where in the blazes have the two of you been?" he demanded. "Another few minutes and we were going to form a search party."
That was probably an exaggeration. I spent entire days out on the plains, and sometimes even camped overnight. It wasn't likely that my parents would have been that concerned after just a couple hours. Ierei and I exchanged glances, but I could tell from her expression that she didn't dare voice such an opinion any more than I did. Dad trained his milky, green-blue eyes on me, waiting for an answer, and as I sought for one, I was caught in a rush of memory and felt a resurgence of the exhilaration I'd experienced when we found the nest.
"We found a hawk's nest, Okodi!" I replied, automatically reverting to the Ka'andesi title in my excitement. "We only wanted to get a look in the nest—honest, but the mother and father were still there and we had to wait!"
"Oh, yes," my father nodded, "Because the nest was just bound to disappear if you came all the way home to eat on time so your mother didn't worry."
"Well, I—" I broke off, biting my lip as a glanced at my compatriot for support.
"That's what I told him, Uncle Fox!" she nodded vehemently.
"You did not!" I protested, offended but not particularly surprised at Ierei's sudden tactical withdrawal. If it had been anything important, of course, she would have stuck by me. She usually did even if we both knew I was wrong. We were obviously not in trouble here, though, and as such her stomach became her main concern.
"Did too, Owen, you just never listen!" she retorted.
"Liar!" I accused, but my brow puckered in a slight frown as I tried to remember more of the conversation we'd had while waiting for the birds to take flight. Maybe she had and I'd just been too excited to listen.
"All right…" Dad tried to interrupt.
"I am not! And I think you were just trying to avoid the carrots!" she shot back at me with an accusation of her own.
A rather lame one, in my opinion, and I made sure she knew that with a quick, disparaging look and a snort. "You are too—besides, even if you said something like that, it was only because you were hungry!"
"Who cares if I'm hungry?! It's still true!"
"Yeah, well, I didn't see you rushing back here instead of climbing up that tree with me, Ierei!" I pointed out hotly.
"Well, what was I supposed to do? Leave you there?" she half-growled.
"Why not? It's not like I don't know the way back to my own house. And if you were mad that's exactly what you woulda done!" I replied sharply.
"Well, I wasn't mad then, but I'm gonna be if you don't—"
A shrill whistle from my father cut off further argument. Ierei yipped in alarm, and I winced sharply, fighting down the urge to clap my hands over my ears. Both of us gulped and looked up at him with a hint of nervousness.
"All right!" he repeated. "I don't care who said what to whom when or who was hungry and who wasn't. Would you like to know why?"
I could guess, but I merely nodded and said, "Yes, sir."
"Because I happen to be hungry now! Let's go. Both of you, inside," he said as he raised his staff and brought the end of it down lightly and expertly on the back of Ierei's board. It kicked up, and he caught it easily, tucking it under his arm as he continued, "And don't leave this thing laying around. Don't you know the blind guy could trip over it?"
"Yes, Dad," I shook my head and darted for the kitchen door.
"Whatever, Uncle Fox," Ierei giggled as the staff moved outward to swat both of our backsides.
"And wash your hands. And you are eating those carrots, Owen. And don't forget to—ah, stang! She's turning me into a Ka'andesi housewife!" he broke off his string of reminders and began muttering as he followed us inside.
"Fox," my mother's voice called from somewhere just beyond my sight. "Watch your mouth!"
"Yes, dear…"