Norton, Andre - Novel 23 by The White Jade Fox (v1.0)

sought moved out from behind the shadowed corner
of the bed.
                   She held a bunch of what appeared small, thin
wands in one hand, as if she had been interrupted at some task, but her
expression was no longer hostile. Instead, there was a measuring of
watchfulness in her eyes.
                   "Kuei-Fu-Lu-Li—" The strange words
might have been a greeting. "I knew you would come—you had to,"
Damaris stated almost impatiently. She might have been awaiting some tardy
guest, ready to begin a ceremony—
                   Ceremony? That word
flitted through Saranna's mind. She was now aware of the scent, elusive, but
still to be noticed in the room—spicy—different— Not a flower— What ?
                   "Why did I have to?" That simple
question came to her lips first.
                   "Because—because—it is willed. I know
that now. You— somehow you are a part of it. I—I'm going to throw the wands. Of
course—I'm not a real hsueh che, a scholar who knows all the readings.
But—well, I'm going to try.*'
                   She turned to the table by the bed, and
quickly shoved all the objects on it to the far side, leaving bare that portion
of it which was in the clearest light. With both hands then she caressed the
small wands she held, closing her eyes, muttering words so faintly that they
reached Saranna only as unintelligible sounds.
                   Suddenly, she tossed the wands from her so
that they fell on the table. She hastened to move them so that they made a
pattern in six horizontal bars, one above the other. Completely mystified,
Saranna moved closer. Now she saw that while some of the wands were of a
uniformly dark color, others were broken in two by light bands.
                   ''Chien —" Damaris leaned over the wands,
her attitude one of reading. "Struggling with great difficulties—yes, but
friends come to help— Oh," the child's expression changed as if she were
not angered, nor intent on what she was doing, but rather as if she were
distressed at some inability of her own. "I cannot read—not like—"
She shook her head. "There is so much to learn, and I don't know
enough." She swept the wands back together in her grasp. "I must ask— “ Once more her gaze swept toward Saranna and she stopped
short.
                   "What—what are you trying to do?"
Saranna thought she dared ask that question, even though, with Damaris, she
must be very careful indeed.
                   "I was trying I Ching —to find out— To find out what is going to happen. Only," her answer
now held a note of despair, "I don't know enough. Not how to read the
Yarrow sticks, maybe not even how to toss them
properly. I've only watched it before. I've never really tried to do it
myself."
                   "I Ching—“
                   Damaris nodded vigorously. "It's an old,
old way of telling one's future. Grandfather—he knew how—a little. The
Princess, she—"
                   Her eyes went wide with what Saranna could
only read as pure fear. Once more, as she had done before, Damaris clapped one
hand over her mouth. "I said it! I told!" her voice was near a wail.
                   As much as Saranna wanted to pierce the
mystery which Damaris cherished, she could not press the child further, her distress was far too evident.
                   "I won't ask you any more
questions," she said. "But, Damaris, surely you know that no one is
really able to read the future—"
                   Now that look of distress changed to one which
mingled scorn and pity.
                   "There's a lot of things you don't know
either!" Damaris returned with her usual self-confidence. "You'll learn—if
you stay here. Know what I heard her say?”
                   She rolled the wands into a tight bundle and
slid them back