Read Jeanne G'Fellers - Sister Lost, Sister Found for Free Online

clothing in hand. Granny pushed her into a chair so she could loosen the dripping braid Rankil had been unable to remove.
    “This is impossible,” said Terry between tugs on the messed plait. “It’s so matted it’ll never come undone. I’m going to have to cut above it, shorter than I wanted.” She drew her sharpest knife and held Rankil’s head firm. “Don’t move. I want the cut to be even.”
    Rankil winced as Terry removed the braid at the base of her neck. The lifted weight felt strange. Terry trimmed around the sides of her face and ears, using her hands to judge the length. After a few more quick strokes of the blade she stepped back and produced a palm-sized reflecting board from her pocket, which she held out for Rankil’s use.
    “Take a look.”
    “No, ma’am.”
    Terry sat next to her. “Why not?”
    “Danston told me never to look cause I’m so ugly I’d break a board.”
    “Now, Rankil.” The old woman was once again angry. Rankil flinched at her tone. “I’m not mad with you. I’m furious with them for leading you to believe such a thing. How could you know you might break it if you never try?”
    “Boards are hard to come by.”
    Now the old woman seemed mad at her, too. “Think, girl, can I really make use of one?”
    Rankil peered at Terry’s face. “I guess not,” she whispered.
    “Then what does it matter if it breaks? Look!” Terry forced Rankil’s face to the reflector. Rankil opened one eye. Nothing shattered or cracked, so she ventured to open the other.
    Terry placed the board fully in her hands. “Tell me what you see.”
    “I . . . I see . . . I see so much, Granny Terry, so very much.” Rankil watched the bitter twist of her mouth flatten then curl into a small smile. “I see sky-colored eyes that are shaped like Meelsa’s dark ones and the little hump that’s in Danston’s nose—his pointy chin, too. Why did they call me ugly when I look so much like them?”
    “They put down what they didn’t understand. Tell me what else you see.”
    Rankil moved the reflector about until she had viewed her entire head. “My ears stick out like Sallnox’s, and I have Tessa’s skinny neck.”
    Terry shook her head. “Don’t tell me the other faces you see. I want to know about Rankil. Tell me something about her. Is she as pleasant looking as I think?”
    Rankil bit her lip to keep back the deluge of questions, but they spilled forth anyway, expressing the thousand ideas in her head. “What am I, Granny? What is a Taelach? Do all Taelachs look like I do? Should I wear my hair short? Grow it back long? Where do I fit in?” Rankil stared in the reflecting board again, surprised at the suddenly older face peering back. It wasn’t the distorted image she’d seen when drawing water from the compound’s central well. There was something behind it, a substance she’d never seen before. She wasn’t the stupid waste they said she was. The world was clearer to her now, as clear as the slim-jawed face looking back.
    Terry took the reflector and ran her hands over Rankil’s face. “Let me tell you what I see. Before me is Rankil, an amazing young woman. She is growing strong and tall. She should be proud of who she is.”
    Rankil tensed but didn’t pull away. “And who is that, Granny Terry?”
    Pleased, Terry traced the line of Rankil’s small smile then dropped her hand. “Time in general will tell you, as will time with your people.”
    “My people?”
    “Yes.” Granny Terry’s voice became stern. “You’re caught between two very different worlds, one which detests the other. You know the Autlach and need to know the Taelach. They’ll find you here. They’ll teach you, and in the end you will leave here to become one of them.”
    “But I just got here.” Rankil’s slender hand clutched Terry, her long fingers easily wrapping the older woman’s wrist. “I couldn’t possibly go.”
    Terry broke the grasp and ran the comb through Rankil’s layered cut,