Read The Call of Earth: 2 (Homecoming) for Free Online Page A

already know that Sevet’s father is dead, but I know you meant well in coming to—”
    “He’s dead?” said Vas. “Gaballufix? Then maybe that explains . . . No, it explains nothing.” He looked frightened and angry. Rasa had never seen him like this.
    “What’s wrong, then?” Rasa asked. “If you didn’t know Gab was dead, why are you here?”
    “One of Kokor’s neighbors came to fetch me. It’s Sevet. She’s been struck in the throat—she almost died. A very bad injury. I thought you’d want to come with me.”
    “You
left
her? To come to me?”
    “I wasn’t with her,” said Vas. “She’s at Kokor’s house.”
    “Why would Sevya be there?” One of the servantswas already helping Rasa put on a cloak, so she could go outside. “Kokor had a play tonight, didn’t she? A new play.”
    “Sevya was with Obring,” said Vas. He led her out onto the portico; the servant closed the door behind them. “That’s why Kyoka hit her.”
    “Kyoka hit her in the—
Kyoka
did it?”
    “She found them together. That’s how the neighbor told the story, anyway. Obring went and fetched the doctor stark naked, and Sevya was naked when they got back. Kyoka was breathing into her mouth, to save her. They have a tube in her throat and she’s breathing, she won’t die. That’s all the neighbor knew to tell me.”
    “That Sevet is alive,” said Rasa bitterly, “and who was naked.”
    “Her throat,” said Vas. “It might have been kinder for Kokor simply to kill her, if this costs Sevet her voice.”
    “Poor Sevya,” said Rasa. There were soldiers marching in the streets, but Rasa paid them no attention, and—perhaps because Vas and Rasa seemed so intent and urgent—the soldiers made no effort to stop them. “To lose her father and her voice in the same night.”
    “We’ve all lost something tonight, eh?” said Vas bitterly.
    “This isn’t about
you,
said Rasa. “I think Sevet really loves you, in her way.”
    “I know—they hate each other so much they’ll do anything to hurt each other. But I thought it was getting better.”
    “Maybe now it will,” said Rasa. “It can’t get worse.”
    “Kyoka tried it, too,” said Vas. “I sent her away both times. Why couldn’t Obring have had the brains to say no to Sevet, too?”
    “He has the brains,” said Rasa. “He lacks the strength.”
    At Kokor’s house, the scene was very touching. Someone had cleaned up: The bed was no longer rumpled with love; now it was smooth except where Sevet lay, demure in one of Kokor’s most modest nightgowns. Obring, too, had managed to become clothed, and now he knelt in the corner, comforting a weeping Kokor. The doctor greeted Rasa at the door of the room.
    “I’ve drained the blood out of the lungs,” the physician said. “She’s in no danger of dying, but the breathing tube must remain for now. A throat specialist will be here soon. Perhaps the damage will heal without scarring. Her career may not be over.”
    Rasa sat on the bed beside her daughter, and took Sevya’s hand. The smell of vomit still lingered, even though the floor was wet from scrubbing. “Well, Sevya,” whispered Rasa, “did you win or lose this round?”
    A tear squeezed out between Sevet’s eyelids.
    On the other side of the room, Vas stood over Obring and Kokor. He was flushed with—what, anger? Or was his face merely red from the exertion of their walk?
    “Obring,” said Vas, “you miserable little bastard. Only a fool pees in his brother’s soup.”
    Obring looked up at him, his face drawn, and then he looked back down at his wife, who wept all the harder. Rasa knew Kokor well enough to know that while her weeping was sincere, it was being played for the most possible sympathy. Rasa had almost none to give her. She was well aware how little her daughters had cared for the exclusivity clause in their marriage contracts, and she had no sympathy for faithless people who felt injuredupon discovering that their mates were