attention to himself. Better to stay where he was, let the world
outside stay where it was, and the both of them get on the best
they could.
“There is nothing to be done for the misery of the Dwarves,”
Auntie Jilt declared bitterly. “It’s a misery that’s put down deep
roots.”
Par did as he was told, feeling at once both unhappy and
relieved. The ambiguity bothered him. He couldn’t pretend he
didn’t know what was happening to the people of the city-
didn’t want to, in fact-but at the same time it was a difficult
knowledge to face. He could do as the old ladies said and let the
wodd without get along as best as it could, but he couldn’t forget
that it was there, pressed up against the gate like some starving
beast waiting for food.
On the third day of waiting, the beast snapped at them. It was
early morning, and a squad of Federation soldiers marched up
the roadway and into the yard. A Seeker was leading them.
Granny Elise sent the Valemen and the Highlander to the attic
and with Auntie Jilt in tow went out to confront their visitors.
From the attic, the three in hiding watched what happened next.
The children were forced to line up in front of the porch. They
were all too small to be of any use, but three were selected
anyway. The old women argued, but there was nothing they
could do. In the end, they were forced to stand there helplessly
while the three were led away.
Everyone was subdued after that, even the most active among
the children. Auntie Jilt retired to a windowseat overlooking the
front yard where she could sit and watch the children and work
on her needlepoint, and she didn’t say a word to anyone. Granny
Elise spent most of her time in the kitchen baking. Her words
were few, and she hardly smiled at all. The Ohmsfbrds and
Morgan went about their work as unobtrusively as they could,
feeling as if they should be somewhere else, secretly wishing
that they were.
Late that afternoon, Par could stand his discomfort no longer
and went down to the kitchen to talk to Granny Elise. He found
her sitting at one of the long tables, sipping absently at a cup of
amber tea, and he asked her quite directly why it was that the
Dwarves were being treated so badly, why it was that soldiers
of the Federation-Southlanders like himself, after all-could
be a part of such cruelty.
Granny Elise smiled sadly, took his hand and pulled him
down next to her. “Par,” she said, speaking his name softly.
She had begun using his name the past day or so, a clear indi-
cation that she now considered him another of her children.
“Par, there are some things that cannot ever be explained-not
properly, not so as we might understand them the way we need
to. I think sometimes that there must be a reason for what’s
happening and other times that there cannot be because it lacks
any semblance of logic. It has been so long since it all started,
you see. The war was fought over a hundred years ago. I don’t
know that anyone can remember the beginning of it anymore,
and if you cannot remember how it began, how can you deter-
mine why it began?”
She shook her squarish head and hugged him impulsively.
“I’m sorry. Par, but I don’t have any better answer to give you.
I suppose I gave up trying to find one a long time ago. All my
energy these days is given over to caring for the children. I guess
I don’t believe questions are important anymore, so I don’t look
for answers. Someone else will have to do that. All that matters
to me is saving the life of one more child, and one more after
that, and another, and another, until the need to save them
doesn’t exist anymore.”
Par nodded silently and hugged her back, but the answer
didn’t satisfy him. There was a reason for everything that hap-
pened, even if the reason wasn’t immediately apparent. The
Dwarves had lost the war to the Federation; they were a threat