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Aurin holds his mother's hand as she leads him from the street to his aunt and uncle's house. He's been here only a couple of times, and can't remember most of them distinctly; they're sort of awkwardly related, his dead father's half-brother and the wife thereof. But now they have a baby parunia, and that means there is a dragon related to Aurin who is not too far from his age, only thirty-one years younger. This is apparently the sort of relation that it will be particularly enriching for Aurin to meet. They can do this now instead of waiting a month, because parunias don't die when they're babies; this one is safe, unlike the miscellaneous cousins on his mother's side he's never met because they are all in too much danger to get attached to (and have all succumbed to that danger). So here they are. Even though it was a very long flight and he couldn't ride his mother for takeoff and landing when she had to be a heron, only for the middle part.
Alys knocks on the door.
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on-my-word
Then at a mutually convenient time, her brother-in-law visits her. He does not, of course, bring the climbing menace. The climbing menace is at Colla's place with Koridaar, awaiting the finalization of their purchase of some land in a remote part of Esmaar, which should come through in the next couple of days.
Alys invites him in; Aurin is draped over her shoulder, all shining gold.
"Avar," she says. "Do come in."
"Hi, Uncle Avar," says Aurin.
"Tea?" asks Alys.
"Avar," she says. "Do come in."
"Hi, Uncle Avar," says Aurin.
"Tea?" asks Alys.
on-my-word
"Yes, thank you. Good to see you both."
Now, how in the world does he deliver this news...
Now, how in the world does he deliver this news...
Alys puts the kettle on. Well, she puts the kettle on the fireplace (hers is an old-fashioned house); she lets Aurin light it. He is very proud of himself.
"How have you and yours been?" Alys inquires.
"How have you and yours been?" Alys inquires.
on-my-word
"Koridaar's wonderful, as always. The little menace remains little and a menace," he says. "And, ah. I've had a - change of name. Piro and I agreed that since he objected so strongly to where I was going to put it, he could revoke my line name."
He's aware of the irony; there is a reason Pirodeynan started a new line for his same-coloured son, although Piro stopped short of removing his own line name. And Avar doesn't actually know what that particular family argument was about; Piro has hardly said ten words about his father.
He's aware of the irony; there is a reason Pirodeynan started a new line for his same-coloured son, although Piro stopped short of removing his own line name. And Avar doesn't actually know what that particular family argument was about; Piro has hardly said ten words about his father.
"That's a pity," says Alys, petting her little firestarter. He shifts in her arms; she adjusts her grip. "But I suppose you still have enough syllables for a song."
on-my-word
"Yes."
Avar really isn't sure what to make of this.
Cautiously, he says, "You... would be welcome at the naming ceremony, if you chose to come."
Avar really isn't sure what to make of this.
Cautiously, he says, "You... would be welcome at the naming ceremony, if you chose to come."
"Then of course we'll be there, particularly if you or Koridaar can give us a lift. When is it? I may need to schedule around it."
on-my-word
Avar smiles, trying not to be too blatantly relieved.
"Three weeks from tomorrow. It'll be at our new place, in all likelihood. I'd be happy to give you a lift there."
"Three weeks from tomorrow. It'll be at our new place, in all likelihood. I'd be happy to give you a lift there."
"All right, I have nothing on then apart from a morning meeting with a caterer that I can reschedule if you were thinking it would be in the morning." She pets Aurin's hair. "Your little cousin is going to get named in three weeks," she tells him.
"Then," says Aurin, "he will have a name."
"Yes."
Nod, nod, goes Aurin.
"Then," says Aurin, "he will have a name."
"Yes."
Nod, nod, goes Aurin.
on-my-word
"He will be little Somethingavar, and we can stop calling him the little climbing menace. But we probably won't," says Avar, smiling. "It's a very apt nickname."
"As long as he's having fun, I suppose. What ever did happen to the red one?" wonders Alys.
on-my-word
"Her mother took her in. Koridaar and the menace and I have been staying with the pair of them while we get our move straightened out."
"They found who put her egg there, I hope?"
on-my-word
"Someone took it from the father, implicitly to smash it, and didn't," says Avar. "Perhaps they meant to. One hopes they didn't mean what actually occurred. They haven't been found, in any case."
Alys pets Aurin pensively. "That is... nerve-wracking. There cannot be that much of a shortage of poorly attended shren eggs - even after this -"
on-my-word
"I agree," Avar murmurs. "I've been nervous every time I shift, since. If they meant what actually occurred, it follows that they meant it to happen to me, or very thoroughly didn't mind if it did. It's not out of the question that I could be targeted again." Wryly, he adds, "At least leaving an unattended shren egg by my house won't work twice."
"Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt you?"
on-my-word
"I mean, I'm - I was active in the community, the one we'll shortly be moving out of, but I wouldn't describe myself as the kind of politician that makes enemies. It's possible it was an indirect jab at Father. The closest someone could get to—I don't even want to finish that sentence."
Alys shudders. "Maybe Aurin ought to learn a bird sooner than later. I don't know that I'd like the results if I didn't let him light the fireplace, though -" Snuggle.
"Fire!" says Aurin happily.
"Fire!" says Aurin happily.
"Yes," says Aurin. He shifts again and slithers out of his mother's arms and goes to curl up in the kindling under the heating teakettle. "Warm."
"He's a little too young to quite understand if I tell him he can't do that," murmurs Alys. "He'd only not do it when I was looking. I could lock up the firewood, get a wizard stove, but... I'm sorry, it's awful of me to fret about this in front of you, of all people."
"He's a little too young to quite understand if I tell him he can't do that," murmurs Alys. "He'd only not do it when I was looking. I could lock up the firewood, get a wizard stove, but... I'm sorry, it's awful of me to fret about this in front of you, of all people."
on-my-word
"I understand," Avar says gently. "Believe me, I understand. I don't mind you fretting. I'd be doing the same."
The kettle whistles. Alys removes it from its place hanging above her son and proceeds through tea-brewing steps. "Thank you."