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  She touched the braids at the top of her skull that kept her hair in place. She blinked back tears at the memory of her mother’s taloned hands carefully setting them in place. She was going to keep the braids, that much she knew.

  She blotted her skin again, set her shoulders, and walked out of her lavatory to see a series of small metallic persons working at her bed and the dress from the night before.

  The thing drove the dress and liner to the closet, and the closet opened the right side, accepting the gauzy things inside.

  Niika was speaking into her bracelet, and she was frowning as she spoke to her wrist. The words unusual clothing choice were spoken before Niika noticed her arrival.

  “Pardon, Elder. The boots are silent, aren’t they?”

  Niika slowly lowered her hand. “They are. Are you ready for your tour?”

  “I am. Shall we go?” Novice moved her hand over the fruit, and a glowing dome settled in place.

  Niika paused, and she looked pale. “I think I know our first stop.”

  Novice smiled. “Please, lead the way.”

  Niika walked toward the door. She pulled it open, leading the way into the circular social meeting place in the centre of the space. Other elves were wandering around, and most of the ten people that were in the central area stopped still and stared.

  Novice smiled. “Is it the hair or the dress?”

  “I believe it is both. You have rather a unique colouration.”

  They walked to the lift, and once inside, they turned to face the doors. Novice smiled. “So, am I disturbing you?”

  Her escort blushed. “I was not anticipating someone who was not afraid of their surroundings. You seem to know what to do and how to do it, and that is not what I was told to expect.”

  “Do not worry about it. I think this is how I have always been. And now, it is how I will always be.” She smiled at the slightly shorter woman. It appeared that Novice had grown in the night. Hmm.

  Novice asked, “Where are we going?”

  “I am taking you to the head elder.”

  “I thought that was Joren.”

  Niika waved her hand as the door opened, and they exited. “Joren handles the day-to-day stuff. Elder Monathian controls the tower and the trade for our people.”

  “He is going to know what to do with me?”

  Niika chuckled. “He is a master of looking through odd goods to see the value. I believe you qualify.”

  Novice had her hands folded in her sleeves, the pale skin of her arms showing through the drape and pin in the fall of fabric from shoulder to wrist. She felt like she was keeping herself in control. Control was difficult. She was being stared at by an assortment of men and women who were the definition of conventional beauty.

  Niika kept her head high and led her through the crowds that parted for them. They walked to the centre of the space and descended a wide twisting staircase.

  The scent of greenery filled her lungs the moment that they entered the lower level. They walked through a covered garden where elves idly pruned and plucked the plants. The sunlight streamed in from above and was captured to be fed to the growing space below.

  It was a greenhouse of tremendous proportions. In the troll settlement, only the unchanged could take care of the plants and underground vegetation. They were responsible for watering and taking care of pests. Here, it seemed that there were no children to be used for minor tasks.

  The tree roots appeared to be their destination. There was a man crouching, wearing a very long open vest over his tunic and trousers. It was one of the first ranking marks she had seen since arriving.

  Niika stopped a few feet away and waited respectfully with her head down.

  The man with snow-white hair continued to examine bits of bark. “Novice, do you know what this is?”

  Novice smiled. “Permission to approach?”

  “Of course. We don’t stand on ceremony when it comes to the health of the plants.”

  She moved forward and crouched easily next to him, looking at his sample. She blinked and reached for it. Smelling the small bark and taking in the different layers of age, water, soil, and the fungus that was starting on it.

  “Sarconi’s fungus. You must have gotten a sample from the northlands. The oaks carry it. It is harmless but annoying. It can be treated by making sure you don’t have the oaks near it and scraping it off. It is a slow traveller. It likes the skin of younger trees.”

  He chuckled. “So, you kept all your knowledge.”

  She winced. “A trap?”

  “A trap. You like trees?”

  “Plants are life. Meat is entertainment.” She quoted the words in troll, and he stared at her.

  He blinked and stared. “You retained language as well.”

  “Sure. I have no idea why the orb blew up, but it just gave me the etiquette of the elves and exploded.”

  He sighed and got to his feet.

  She stood and faced him. “So, what are you going to do with me?”

  Niika was standing and staring.

  Novice whispered, “Why is she staring?”

  “We are speaking goblin.”

  “Oh. Right. I am guessing that there aren’t many who do?”

  “Six of us. Two are out on trade missions. Hm. Well, what shall we do with you? You are to give the answer to that. We don’t have any more outposts. We have nowhere to send you. You can either live at the tower and have a stimulating occupation in regards to painting intricate patterns on tiles, or you can become my assistant.” The elder switched to elvish once again.

  Niika gasped. “Elder. She isn’t qualified. She is just transformed.”

  Elder Monathian grinned. “Novice, have you used light?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When?”

  “To drive back my people and then today to cover breakfast.”

  “Fine. Show me now. Scrape off that fungus.”

  Novice knelt, and she gathered light into her hands, running them down the roots of the tree. This was knowledge from the elf download.

  The fungus turned into smoke at the touch of direct and focused light. When she was done, she stood up again and turned to the elder. “Anything else?”

  He chuckled. “What would you like to be called as a personal name? Novice is going to be your title for the next fifty years, I’m afraid. Or until we get another novice.”

  She stepped close to him. “My personal name is Habel Trollblood.”

  He stared at her, his rainbow eyes shocked. “Troll? I mean, I know they said it yesterday, but troll?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Since the day I was born.”

  He looked at her closely and then nodded. “That explains the braids.”

  She chuckled. “Does it?”

  “I would like to discuss your background with you in-depth. Would you accompany me?”

  Habel nodded and smiled. “Niika, too?”

  The elder looked at Niika. “She can occupy herself for a few hours. I need to record your history manually. Since the orb had an accident, that means a lot of writing and dictation into an orb.” He smiled. “I am sure that Niika doesn’t want to do it.”

  Niika held her hands up. “I don’t do script or calligraphy. I will wait for the summons.”

  Monathian smiled. “Excellent. Well, Novice Habel, shall we be on our way?”

  He offered her his hand, and she placed her fingers against his wrist. He smiled and led her through the gardens, past the giant roots of the tree that expanded upward through the glass ceiling and out to the world beyond.

  He pressed his palm to a square on the wall, and a door opened. “This way, Novice.”

  They walked up the shallow steps in a slowly curving arc. “Why are the steps so shallow?”

  “The skirts that the women wear as part of their daily wear. Hiking them up all the time is annoying, so this allows for a graceful entrance and exit.”

  “Interesting.”

  The steps led into a
private office with a view of expansive gardens that were being tended by languid elves in the bright sunlight.

  He gestured for her to have a seat on one of the chairs near the window, and he went to a sideboard and pressed some buttons. He set out a pot, and hot water streamed into it. A few scoops from a nearby canister and he put everything on a tray and carried it over to the bright spot where she was sitting. “So, I imagine you have questions.”

  She laughed. “I thought that was my line.”

  He smiled. “I was a goblin. That is how I came to this place. One in fifty of us remember who we were, though I haven’t heard of anyone blowing an orb before.”

  “I have previously untapped talents. I also have the troll scream.” She looked outside and smiled at the slow farming.

  He paused. “I have heard of that. Your family was high-ranking?”

  She chuckled. “My mother was chief. Is chief.”

  He sat next to her, and he frowned. “Haladen? Is she still chief?”

  “That’s my mother. I have two older siblings, both trolls.”

  “Huh. She has been in power for forty years now.”

  Habel smiled. “She had us all while keeping two thousand trolls under her control. We were raised at her side and saw everything involved in running a large group of rowdy assholes.” She paused. “Why am I telling you everything?”

  “Ah, my goblin skill was summoning truth. It came with me during the change. It is also why I am in charge around here.” He chuckled and turned to pour the tea. “Your clothing is rather striking.”

  “Thank you. My closet chose it?” She grimaced as she realized how it sounded. “It seemed fairly friendly for an inanimate object.”

  He grinned. “The closets all use voiceprints from visitors. It keeps our minds stimulated to deal with new attitudes and syntax.”

  “It said the outfit was designed for the next Novice by Elder—”

  “Acohar. It looks like one of his. It looks comfortable and elegant.”

  “It is a lot thicker than Niika’s gown.”

  “Acohar was a fan of durable materials and practical applications for movement. A gown to him was a sculpture that had to be useful.”

  She smiled. “I like the design.”

  “Good. I will authorize other designs of his for you. So, what do you want to learn?”

  He handed her the cup of herbal tisane. She recognized the scent as one brought in by the forest folk.

  “Um, I don’t know what you mean?”

  “We learn here. It is what we do. We consume the information from the outside worlds brought in by traders, and we give them medicinals and herbals in return. We also provide them with the necessary technology that they come to trade meat and hides for.”

  “I can learn anything?” She smiled.

  “Of course. If we can’t teach it ourselves, there are records for it. So, what would you like to learn?”

  Habel smiled slowly and gave him her list of favourite topics of study, and he looked at her in surprise. “All of that?”

  “That is just to start. Those are the skills I need to continue my education.”

  Monathian smiled. “A few qualifiers. I want you here to take notes when we are entertaining traders. Also, you need to write down as much of your life as you remember, and I will set up an orb for you to dictate your writings into. There is a non-contact rig that I have been toying with, but writing for two hours a day in elvish will be a good start.”

  She blinked. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. I will make the arrangements, and instructors will come to collect you no matter where you are in the tower. Oh.” He dug in his pocket and took out a small bracelet. “Here. This is for you. It is a tracker and communicator.”

  She put it on her wrist and locked the clasp. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I can now find you anywhere in the tower, and I wasn’t joking. I need someone to assist me with trade. It is a difficult situation.”

  “Do you know who shows up? Which race comes when?”

  “Generally, yes.”

  “Is there a place where I can learn about the social behaviours of the race?”

  “We have a great archive, so yes.” He smiled. “I will give you a schedule, but you are going to need to learn an instrument.”

  She paused with the teacup to her lips. “An instrument?”

  “Part of the social interaction is usually a performance for the visitors. If I can get someone there who isn’t terrified, it will be a definite aid to me. So, add an instrument to your roster of activities.”

  They chatted for a few more minutes, and he got a lot of details about the troll hierarchy out of her. When the tea was done, he summoned Niika and explained the plan to her. Well, he explained a few of the activities that he wanted Habel to engage in and asked Niika to assist in creating a schedule.

  Niika blinked and said, “Combat instruction?”

  “Yes, I believe that Nerion was a fighter at one point. Ask him. You can scan all the files to find a match.”

  “Yes, Elder. I will begin the search immediately. Has Novice had her lunch yet?”

  Elder Monathian shook his head. “No. I do believe that I am hungry, as well. Shall we?”

  Niika’s eyes widened as he got to his feet and held his arms out to each of them. Habel set her teacup down, and she asked as they headed for the private lift.

  “So, where do the bots come from? They don’t seem to match the rest of the tech.”

  Monathian smiled. “They come in fall, or when we have need of technicians. They stay for a few weeks and leave with trade goods that they carry into the dark wastelands.”

  “How do they get out there? The transport roads are impassible. Does the monorail run there?”

  He laughed. “Thank you, you have woken my interest in the outside world again.”

  She noted that he did not answer her.

  The door opened, and their trio stepped out to the shock and surprise of those gathered. Monathian murmured, “Walk through the line, take a tray, go to the machine, and select your entrée. Keep walking and take your soup and fresh food, and when you arrive at the end of the line, your choice will come forward to the link with your bracelet.”

  She whispered, “You go first.”

  He laughed and said, “Niika should go first and show you how it’s done.”

  That was how it went. They went through in a line, and finally, Habel completed the circuit successfully. They sat together at a table, which had a selection of sauces and a pitcher of water in the centre.

  They were into their meals when Habel whispered, “Why are they staring?”

  Niika glanced at the elder and whispered back, “He doesn’t eat in public. This is new.”

  Habel looked at Monathian. “But you do normally eat, right?”

  He grinned, his white face crinkling in amusement. “I do.”

  They chuckled together and finished their food. Habel was surprised that the meat she ate came from actual animals. She could taste it. It must be one of the trade goods because she didn’t sense any livestock in the immediate vicinity.

  It was amusing to see the expressions on the faces of those who watched Elder Monathian carry his tray to the cleaning station. He turned to Niika. “Take her away, and arrange her time.”

  She nodded. “Yes, Elder.”

  Habel bowed slightly from the waist.

  Monathian smiled. “And teach her to curtsy.”

  “Yes, Elder.”

  Niika touched Habel’s arm, and they walked away from the station where they had slid their trays a moment before.

  They walked together to the lift, and once inside, Niika exhaled. “That was new.”

  Habel smiled. “You said that.”

  “You don’t understand. There have been no truly new events here in decades.”

  She blinked, and understanding dawned. “Oh. Got it.”

  Niika looked at her. “You seem more relaxed,
Novice.”

  “I am. I won’t have to hide what I was with at least one person. That is a very good thing.”

  “That was what the languages were?”

  “Yes. They remain in me.”

  “Interesting. I haven’t heard of that before.”

  “I suppose that most folks who came here only came with their own language, and it was moved aside by elvish. I came with multiple languages already, so I just added elvish to the roster.”

  Niika seemed to accept that.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “To the archive to get you familiar with the layout and to obtain writing materials for your recording of your history.”

  “Ah. Right.” She imagined writing in elvish letters, and the image of them came to her. She sighed internally. That was close. She could clearly remember how to write in troll.

  The lift stopped, the doors opened, and they walked through the halls to an area that was filled with the scent of paper, ink, and age. There was also the tang of vellum and hides, but it was mainly masked by the paper.

  Niika smiled. “This is one of seven storage areas that we have for historical books and documents. We also keep our scribe materials here.”

  They walked toward a counter where an auburn-haired woman was leaning forward, perusing a huge tome.

  “Ibera, this is the novice. She requires writing materials for a project that Elder Monathian has assigned her.”

  The librarian straightened and stared at Habel for a moment. “Right. The novice. I hadn’t imagined that she would be here. Supplies. Right.”

  Ibera groped around under the desk and came out with a three-inch stack of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a metal box containing pens, nibs, and a blotter.

  Habel asked, “So, why is this place so sporadically low tech?”

  Ibera smiled. “Because some things, when done by hand, mean more. Painting, gardening, writing, crafting, even exercise are all things that create mindfulness of the moment. It keeps you centred.”

  Habel looked at the earnest expression in her eyes, and she inclined her head. “Thank you. I will try and keep that as my focus.”

  Niika nodded. “Thank you, Ibera.”

  Ibera inclined her head, and then, Niika whisked Habel off and back to her quarters.