The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (7 page)

Perrin and Mahrree pushed their children to
perform well enough on the final exams so that they could decide
their own futures, as students used to until the Administrators
stepped in to make
better
decisions for everyone.

Frequently Perrin and Mahrree grumbled that
soon Idumea would dictate what they should eat for every meal so as
to control weight gains and losses, and perhaps even issue clothing
to each villager to remove the burden of what to wear each day. By
not having to make so many decisions, the people would have more
time to earn more gold and silver to pay in ever-increasing taxes
to the exceptionally
benevolent
Administrators . . .

And that was usually when Jaytsy and Peto
banged their heads dramatically on the eating room table.

So far neither of them showed an interest in
any particular work, nor did Peto want to become an officer.
Mahrree was secretly relieved by that, and happily Perrin also
wasn’t too eager for his son to join the army. High General Shin,
however, had other plans for his only grandson.

At least that morning brought Holy Day again,
and Mahrree wouldn’t be facing any of those worries on the
Creator’s Day. She needed that one day a week to leave the world
alone and focus on The Writings at the weekly Holy Day service that
the Shins, and maybe only thirty others, still attended.

It wasn’t because of the rector. Rector Yung
was most inspired and capable, and frequently Mahrree wondered if
Rector Yung’s wife had been anything like Tabbit Densal—tender,
gentle, and oh so kind. When Mahrree looked into the aged rector’s
eyes, she saw a loneliness there that panged her heart, so the late
Mrs. Yung must have been a remarkable woman in her own right.

Mahrree groggily mused on what the topic for
the morning’s discussion might be, because her husband had finally
stopped snoring—

She found herself on all fours on the floor,
and it was inexplicably swaying. Her head hurt as if she smacked it
against the wall. She vaguely recalled hearing something loud
behind her fall off a shelf. Or maybe it
was
the shelf.

She looked up and saw across the bed she was
no longer in, trying desperately to understand what was
happening.

Perrin was in the same position on the floor
staring back at her. “Under the bed!” he yelled and dove. He kicked
storage crates out of the way and immediately appeared on Mahrree’s
side.

Mahrree couldn’t comprehend what to do, her
head still too foggy. But Perrin grabbed her arms and roughly
pulled her down and under the sturdy bed frame he’d made before
they were married. He wrapped himself around her and held her tight
as the house bounced and heaved.

Finally she overcame her confusion and woke
up.

Land tremor!

Mahrree’s mind screamed it over and over, but
nothing came out of her mouth. It would have been muffled in her
husband’s chest, anyway. A loud cracking and tearing noise above
them made her flinch, and Perrin clutched her even tighter.

This was nothing like the little tremors that
visited Edge each season like a disoriented old aunt; this one
would not be easily ignored nor quickly go away. Mahrree curled as
small as she could into the protection of her husband’s bulk.

Above them the timbers of the massive bed
frame bounced and impossibly sagged, and then the air smelled like
dust. Bizarrely, there also seemed to be more light in the
room.

The rough swaying slowed until it stopped
altogether.

The Shins lay tense and motionless under the
bed until Perrin heard a muffled voice. “I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry.”

He released his wife and Mahrree gasped for
air. “The children!”

Perrin nodded. “In just a moment. We need to
make sure we can get out safely. I suspect we may have that larger
window you’ve always wanted. You just stay.”

Mahrree bit her knuckle in worry as he slid
cautiously out from his side of the bed, pushing debris that
tinkled like broken glass, and peered upwards. He looked over at
his wife with his lips pressed tightly together.

“What?” she asked, trying to contain her
panic.

“Mahrree,” he began slowly, as if a wonderful
idea had just occurred to him, “have you ever considered making
this roof, I don’t know . . .
taller
? I always thought the
pitch was a little low for my height. It seems half the work is
already done—”

“Oh no.” Mahrree moaned and carefully slid
out of her side, pushing away a toppled bookshelf that was now
mysteriously covered with leaves. She sat up and looked at their
bed.

The peaked middle section of the roof had
given way completely and rested where they had just moments before.
Dirt, dried leaves, and a surprised family of squirrels sat there
among the timbers and tiles as well.

She looked up, as was her custom each morning
to check the color of the sky, but staggered to realize she’d never
before seen the color of the sky directly above her bed. For once
she was grateful that Perrin overreacted. Always she’d chuckled
when the ground began to gently roll, and he dove under a table.
But not today.

Mahrree and Perrin managed to get to their
feet and stared at each other. They’d been seconds away from being
crushed.

“Dear Creator!” Mahrree closed her eyes in a
brief prayer of gratitude. When she opened them she murmured, “Oh
Perrin . . .”

He’d already wrenched off his long bed shirt
and was putting on his blue jacket. Even though his uniform was
covered in debris, it still remained positioned on the chair by the
bed where he kept it every night, only inches away from the fallen
roof.

“We’ll secure the children before I go to the
fort.” He stopped pulling on his trousers to look at her. “Mahrree,
I’m so sorry. I should stay with you but—”

“But your duty is first to the citizens of
Edge. I know. I’m used to it.” But she wasn’t. She knew it was a
lie, and so did Perrin. Yet there was nothing else that could be
done. Every citizen in Edge would be crying for one of his two
hundred fifty soldiers to come help them. “You’ve already saved me,
Lieutenant Colonel Shin. Go save the rest of the world!” She tried
to smile.

He stepped over a splintered timber and
kissed her quickly, hurdled something else that was now
unrecognizable, and ran down the stairs shouting for Jaytsy and
Peto.

Mahrree fumbled quickly to shake out a dusty
dress and put it over her bedclothes, not giving time for her mind
to catch up to what was happening around her. All she could think
was,
My babies!

She stepped over and around debris and
scattered books, trying not to worry about what might have been
destroyed. At the bottom of the stairs she found Jaytsy breathing
heavily with panic in her eyes. She seemed as spooked as a filly,
but unharmed. Before she could say anything, Mahrree heard Perrin
shouting.

“In Peto’s room! Now!”

Mahrree wouldn’t let alarm set in as she and
Jaytsy hurried over to Peto’s door to see his wardrobe lying on top
of his bed, with no Peto in sight. Perrin was just beginning to
lift it and Mahrree rushed to help him. Together they heaved the
large oak cabinet to find Peto underneath, wide-eyed.

“I’m awake, Father. Really. I’m not ignoring
you this time.”

Mahrree sighed in relief.

“Are you hurt?” Perrin asked.

Peto just stared at him.

“Are you hurt?
Peto!
”

Peto sat up slowly and saw books, papers, and
kickballs scattered around the floor. “Did something happen?”

In answer, the ground began to roll again.
Jaytsy screamed and ran to her father, and something in Mahrree’s
mind clicked. She grabbed her son and dragged him toward the front
door as the house bounced and swayed. Perrin followed closely
behind, half carrying a sobbing Jaytsy.

In their front garden the family collapsed
into a heap with Jaytsy and Peto curled up between Perrin and
Mahrree. Strange ear-numbing noises, like the ground cracking its
giant knuckles, echoed up and down the road. A rumbling like
thunder that didn’t know when to stop or where to go came toward
them, and left them, then came back again.

Shouts and screams arose in the air around
them. The Shins saw neighbors making their ways to their front
gardens too, falling down stairs and stumbling over bushes. A
spooked horse ran past and fell on the undulating cobblestones,
whinnying in terror as it tried to right itself again, and bolted
down a side road.

For a moment, Mahrree’s rational mind decided
this was indeed the most bizarre event she’d ever witnessed. She
kept looking around just to assure herself this wasn’t some strange
dream, but reality.

But then the rational part of her mind
decided it was done for the day, and the desire to become frantic
nearly overwhelmed her. Only by looking into her husband’s steady
and solid gaze did she find a bit of bravery to borrow.

A flash of orange caught her eye, and she
noticed the tall tower near their home. Always the towers, a dozen
throughout the village, were manned by two soldiers who kept
careful watch over the neighborhoods. But right now the young men
were keeping hold of the sides of the tower, trying not to fall
over the waist-high walls of the swaying structures.

“Lie down!” Mahrree murmured uselessly in
their direction. Already they had sent up the orange banner, the
twenty-foot length of cloth waving erratically in the breeze and
the jerking of the tower. One of the soldiers was valiantly trying
to signal for help with the horn, but his repeating pattern of two
short bursts was interrupted by jolts and shivers from the ground.
It sounded more like he had a bad case of the hiccups.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Perrin said loudly
as he noticed his soldiers’ vain attempts. “Wait out the tremor,
then
let everyone know what we already know: we have an
emergency! First thing I’ll retrain—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because
a sudden lurch sent him almost flopping on top of his children. As
he braced himself, a house down the road shivered and partially
collapsed.

This isn’t Edge
, Mahrree thought to
herself. This isn’t . . .

Words from a book poured into her mind.

Before the Last Day will be a land tremor
more powerful than any ever experienced. It will awaken the largest
mountain and change all that we know in the world.

The words of the Great Guide Hierum bounced
around in her head as violently as the ground. She twisted to try
to see Mt. Deceit, the largest mountain in the world, but her view
was obscured by a neighbor’s tree.

No, she didn’t think this was the Last Day
just yet.

But then again, if the land keeps
trembling—

It abruptly stopped, the ground’s final
movement an upward lift that brought down another house nearby; its
crumbling sounded like a clay pot being thrown onto a stone floor.
After that, there was no noise, no movement, nothing.

The Shin family held their collective breath
for several moments, Perrin and Mahrree staring at each other as
they hovered protectively over their children.

Jaytsy started to wail. “I didn’t mean it! I
didn’t mean it! I didn’t want this to happen!”

Perrin blinked and looked down at his
daughter who threw her arms around his waist. “What?”

“I wanted people to wake up, but . . . but .
. . not like
this!
”

Peto sat up and stared at his sister, then
looked questioningly at his mother.

Motherhood has a strange way of putting
everything suddenly into perspective. It took Mahrree only a
fraction of a second to make sense of the world again.

There had been a land tremor, an enormous
one. There was great damage, which likely meant cleaning up for
weeks, if not moons. People were injured and perhaps even dead,
which meant they would have to find bandages and shovels. Breakfast
would be difficult to make today, as would be midday meal and
dinner.

And her daughter, in the manner of all
teenagers who think the world actually listens to and takes its
cues from the sophistication of minds that are centered around
haircuts, dress lengths, and clipped intellect, believed the land
tremor was caused by her.

“
You
did not cause this, Jaytsy Shin!
My goodness,” Mahrree said. “And you think your friends are
self-centered.”

Perrin gave his family a cautious smile, the
corner of his eye catching sight of the banner nearby which was now
slumped against its pole. Even the constant breeze from the
mountains had unexpectedly stilled, but the bright orange was still
obvious, pleading for help.

“No one’s hurt, right?” he said.

Peto and Mahrree nodded at him, while Jaytsy
sniffed into his stomach.

He gently pried her loose and lifted up her
chin to look into her dark brown eyes. “Then I have to go, but
you’ll be fine. Just listen to your mother. And all of you, stay
out of the house!”

Mahrree had never seen his eyes so sad, not
even at the Densals’ burial. If there was one time she didn’t want
him to leave her, it was now. But there were others far more
distressed than her. They were outside and safe, and most of their
house was still standing, or so she assumed.

She swallowed hard and nodded at her husband.
“You be careful, Perrin, and don’t do anything overly brave or
stupid.”

“Mother says those are usually the same
things,” Peto said to demonstrate that his ability to turn anything
into a joke wasn’t crushed by the wardrobe.

Perrin winked at them and lifted Jaytsy into
a sitting position. She wiped her runny nose with her hand and
looked pleadingly into her father’s eyes.

“Take care of each other,” he said, kissing
Jaytsy on the forehead, then kissed Mahrree on the lips. As he
leaned toward Peto, his son fell backward.