Katherine Carns

Katherine Carns Chapter 3 I jump and reach for a handhold, placing one foot on the banister to hoist myself up. Resituating my carrier, now heavy with my discoveries, I bound across the roof, making sure to avoid the loose shingles. I’m not as light-footed as I used to be when I would follow behind Cloud as a boy, and the last thing I need is the Mother waking up and spoiling my fun. The windowsill creaks as I toss myself into our room. My feet land with a thud on the floor and, on cue, a pair of shadows move to my left. “Kite!” I’m on my back in an instant with the weight of two giggling girls on top of me. “Oh no! An ambush!” I growl, feigning surprise. I pinch Mint’s nose, earning a squeal in return and more giggles from Ivy. Sitting up abruptly, I grab the closest one and tuck her under my arm before lunging headfirst into the pile of blankets. I must’ve landed on Oak’s foot because she screeches, jolting out of sleep. In her groggy state she gives me her best attempt at a glare, and I can’t help but snicker. “Kite, you seriously couldn’t wait an hour before playing with the twins?” She tosses back the mop of auburn curls that have fallen in front of her face and groans. “Look they started it,” I retort holding up both hands in defense. Ivy pops her head from the depths of the blankets. Grinning at her, I give a quick wink. With that she shoots off towards her sister, a small chorus of giggles following behind. Oak rolls her eyes and I shrug. “So, what’d you find this time?” Oak looks at my carrier curiously as I shake my shoulders out of its straps. I can’t help but grin as the three gather around me. Dramatically I loosen each string as slowly as possible and can hear Oak sigh out of frustration next to me. She can pretend she’s too old and “grown-up” for these discoveries, but I know better. “It’s a real good haul this time,” I say as I drop some of the contents out of the bag. Mint tries to snatch one of the items, but she’s too slow and gets a quick hand slap from Oak. “You know the rules, you can’t just start grabbing stuff.” Back when there were more of us and I wasn’t quite old enough to go on the discovery runs, Cloud would bring back her haul and we would all push and shove each other to try and grab something before everyone else. That was until one day two of the boys grabbed the same book and tore it right down the middle. Oak cried for days. She was still small then and genuinely believed each book had feelings; although, it wouldn’t surprise me if she still thought as much. Mint huffs and puts on her infamous pout, but nonetheless waits patiently for me to begin. “I found something extra special for you girls,” nodding in the twins’ direction. I hand each of them a short stick with curious hairs attached to one end. Though they are worn down, you can make out very faint designs in the wood. Their eyes widen with curiosity and the two quickly snatch them from my outstretched hands. “What’re those?” asks Oak puzzlingly. “No idea, but I found them under a sanded down board along with this,” I pass her a book. It’s old and worn, its contents wrapped in a soft leather held together with a single string along its spine. She opens its pages gingerly, but its has been well preserved from the sand with only some damage at the ends of the pages. They have, of course, yellowed and dried out like most of the other books we’ve collected from the years of our trips. The dry air and scorching days can be blamed for that. On the pages are strange symbols that seemed to have been written by hand, and at the end of the page she has turned to there is a small drawing connecting a few of the symbols in a pattern that doesn’t make any sense to me. When I first saw this odd book, I immediately knew Oak would be drawn to it. Oak looks at me, her eyes searching mine for answers to the questions she has running through her head. She thinks for a moment before deciding to ask one, but she already knows I can’t answer. Gesturing to the strange marks she asks, “What are these? They don’t look like letters.” “I wish I knew. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Not even when I used to tag along with Cloud back in the day.” “Do you think Sage would know? I’m going to see her today I could bring it with me! I’m sure she’d be able to –“ “No!” I bark, rather harsher than intended. I run my hand through my hair and sigh, “Oak you know we can’t carry this king of stuff around with us.” She puffs out her face and for a moment I am reminded again of how young she still is, she almost looks like her fiver-year-old self. “Yea, I know, but how will I be able to ask her if I don’t take it with me?” “We can figure that out, but its not leaving this room.” I give her a pointed look and can see her reasonable side replace her curiosity as she gives me a disappointed nod. “Good, now we better tuck these away before the working bell.” Oak closes the book, carefully tucking it into the crevice near the back of our room and motions to the younger ones to do the same. “I’m going to go wash the sand off,” I mutter. I untangle my legs from the blankets and hand her my carrier with the other discoveries as I make my way to the stairwell. I scowl, ducking under boards and rusted nails that stick out, my head almost reaching the ceiling. I know what it means now that it’s getting harder for me to move around up here. I really need to take Oak on a few trips with me so she can start learning the ropes. But honestly, I look forward to the quiet mornings alone and I’m reluctant to give that up. Absorbed in my thoughts, my shoulder bumps against a rough part of the wall and I grunt. Of course, only this part of the house remains untouched by the sand. Meanwhile every other part of our adobe is always covered in that fine layer of grit. Even the shattered glass of our window has worn smooth. The circular path of our stairs always makes me a bit uneasy, and I pause for a moment just before the door. It’s interesting to imagine that this place used to be grand in the Before. That the broken door in front of me that hangs lopsidedly on one hinge used to resemble the grand wood it was made from. It must’ve had an impressive brass lock and perplexing designs carved into it, but those details were lost long ago. I trace my hand, rough from the years of work, across the wood and imagine one of the strange symbols from this morning carved into it. The door opens with a groan after using my shoulder to shove it open. Even here in the Mother’s Hall you can find sand and smoothed greystone. Blindly making my way to the water room, I can’t help but stumble a few times. It’s as dark as ever in here. Fumbling to my left I find a runestone and place it in the light flame. It flickers to life, finally illuminating the room before me. Once again, a scowl returns to my face as I notice the empty water bin, knowing full well the Mother “conveniently” forgot to fetch some last night. Well, at least there will be an explanation for why I’m already covered in sand this morning.