stream running through the middle of it. The stream went through the entire house, apparently providing heat to the chilly underground cavern. Kara admired it and was careful not to step in it as she entered the domicile and looked around.
“Now, I think we can put you in Nadiah’s old room,” Aunt Zeelah said, smiling. “Nobody’s using it since she never comes to visit. Of course she says it’s because that mate of hers can’t leave his planet for some reason but I really think that’s an excuse. I never get to see my daughter’s children.” She sighed. “But never mind about that—come this way, my dear.”
Actually, Kara had heard the story of Nadiah and how Aunt Zeelah and Uncle Grennly had tried to force her into marriage with a male she didn’t love, so she didn’t really blame her for not visiting.
The thought gave her an uneasy feeling but she tried to push it aside.
That’s been more than twenty years ago—surely they’ve mellowed since then, she told herself as she followed Aunt Zeelah down the hallway, being careful not to step in the purple stream.
“Here we go—I hope you don’t mind, I neatened it up a bit but other than that, we’ve kept the room just as Nadiah left it,” Aunt Zeelah said, opening a door.
“It’s fine,” Kara assured her as she stepped inside. The room looked like a teenage girl still lived there—the bed was covered with a bright purple spread and there were curling posters of Kindred warriors on the walls. Kara, who had talked with her Aunt Nadiah over the viewscreen enough to like her, could almost feel her bubbly presence here. It was nice—comforting in a way. After all, wasn’t she doing what Nadiah had done so many years ago? Going off on an adventure—looking to change her life?
There was a holo picture of Nadiah herself sitting on a tall chest of drawers. It had been taken years ago, before she had met and married Councilor Rast and he had changed the color of her eyes. In this picture they were still blue and she was laughing and waving. In a way, Kara almost felt like she was waving at her. She smiled warmly at Aunt Zeelah.
“This is lovely. Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home.”
“Of course, my dear. You’re very welcome.”
Aunt Zeelah smiled back, a bit tightly, Kara thought. Then she realized her own smile was showing her fangs. Quickly she closed her lips, scaling her smile down considerably.
“You just make yourself comfortable,” Aunt Zeelah told her. “Last meal will be ready shortly and then I’m sure you’ll want to get some rest before you see Dr. ThrobGood tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, of course. It has been a long day.” Kara almost yawned and then realized that would show her fangs again. So she held the yawn back and just smiled until her great aunt left.
Kara wanted to explore Nadiah’s room and see if there were any more bright little sparks of her personality left around but she’d barely gotten started before Zeelah was back.
“Here we are, my dear—a selection of tharps for you to try,” she said, putting a heap of furry, multicolored fabrics on the bed.
“Oh, thank you!” Kara was cautiously excited. She had always wanted her own tharp—a semi-sentient living creature which doubled as an article of clothing. As a child, she had heard horror stories from her mother about how Sophia’s tharp had double-crossed her during an important dinner and caused no end of problems by tickling her and grabbing the guests who were sitting on either side of her.
Of course, that had only made Kara want one all the more. She could remember that every time their mother told that story she and Kaleb had laughed until their sides ached. The idea of their quiet, dependable mother being tickled by her living dress and making a scene at a big banquet had seemed deliciously funny.
“Now let’s see…which one would suit you best…”
Kara shed the heavy vranna skin coat and Aunt Zeelah started holding up the different tharps to her cheek. To an outside observer it might look like she was seeing which color matched Kara’s complexion the best but Kara knew differently. More important than matching coloring was finding a tharp which matched your personality. That had been the problem with her mother’s tharp—the two of them were a mismatch which had led to all the confusion and problems.
“Well now,” Aunt Zeelah said at last. “I think this