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cease.
    “You know what to do next, don’t you?”
    Myrla’s upper lip curled. “Gut it?”
    Kaelan frowned at her. “Before that.”
    The girl blinked good-naturedly. “Why, Kaelan,” she laughed. “You thank the Mother Maker, of course. She’s the one who put the deer here to begin with. I knew that.” Myrla dropped to one knee and spoke the appropriate prayer.
    “Much better.” Kaelan tied a rope to the animal’s front legs and suspended it from a nearby tree. “Now, in answer to your question. Clan rule. You kill it—you clean it.”
    “Ugh!” Despite Myrla’s objections, she knew she must do the chore. Kaelan showed her how to rig up the deer so it would bleed the best and demonstrated how to open the belly to remove the entrails. “Separate and rinse everything with water from the flask then put it all in the lined sling. Careful not to nick the intestine. It’ll ruin the best of the sweetmeats. Good girl! You’re quite handy with a knife. Jewel will be proud.”
    Myrla smiled as she gazed up at her raiser. “We caught this one early. Do we have to go back right now? It’s pretty in the lowlands. There’re more trees.”
    “These aren’t the lowlands, but I suppose it’s lower than you’ve ever been.” Kaelan sliced off a portion of leg meat then hefted the carcass onto one of the nassies. “And, no, we’re not going back yet. We’ve other business.”
    “What business?”
    Kaelan wrapped the meat in cloth, straddled her mount, and pulled her daughter up behind. “Hold this.” She passed back the roast. “You’ll see soon enough.” She steered their nassies through the thick undergrowth and further down the mountain. Myrla sang softly as they trotted along, her off-key melody following Kaelan’s low hum. It was a pleasant morning to be out, growing warmer by the minute but clear and dry. They skirted a large clearing, stopping just inside the tree line on the far side.
    “All right,” Kaelan took the meat pack and leaned back, encouraging her daughter’s dismount. Myrla slid down, tied the nassies off, then waited as Kaelan stepped off the animal with long-legged ease. “Come along. We’ve a delivery to make.”
    “Delivery?” Myrla trotted to keep up, following Kaelan around a thorny thicket surrounding a small, bubbling spring. They pushed through a stand of trees and on the far side, Kaelan stopped, pulling Myrla low. She pointed down the hillside to a small house and outbuildings nestled against a stream.
    “That’s where we’re going?” Myrla looked dismayed. “But that’s an Aut’s home!”
    Kaelan smiled at the wary sound in her child’s voice. “Correct, it is. It’s where Blind Grandmother lives. You’ve heard me speak of her. The roast is for her. We must do our part to help others. Helping deeds are part of the Great Mother’s requirements for us.”
    “But you told me Blind Grandmother knew of us,” whispered Myrla. “Why are we hunkered down?”
    “Caution is best in all dealings with Auts.” Kaelan held her head a little higher, scanning and listening for anything suspicious. “Besides, Grandmother does have the occasional visitor.” She edged forward and, after another look about, waved her daughter to follow. The Serpent clan’s inking wriggled high on Kaelan’s arm when she moved. Myrla admired the strength the simple reptilian pattern represented, but only broadbacks wore inkings in the Serpent clan, and Myrla was old enough to know she didn’t want to be one.
    “It’s clear,” Kaelan said. “Let’s deliver the bundle.”
    They made a quiet path to the rear of Granny Terry’s smoker shed then opened the heavy wooden box resting against it. “Looks like good eating to go with your deer.” Kaelan held up one of the large, juicy vine fruits Terry had provided from her garden. “She left enough for all of us.” She took the fruit sack and replaced it with the meat. “Gather a bouquet of those blue hats. They smell nice, and she