Author's Note: Many thanks to Joelle Duran for gently poking at me until I finished this chapter. I'll do my best not to slack off so badly again... To her and all of my other reviewers, I thank you very much. Your comments are both helpful and very encouraging!

Chapter Five:

Unexpected light on her face woke N’stadege the following morning. She blinked in confusion for a moment, looking up at the unfamiliar open window and the pink walls covered with tacked up drawings. It was the artwork that brought forth recognition, because they immediately recalled to her their maker.

She sat up, unconsciously playing with her two loose teeth with her tongue. “Cini?” Adege looked to her right and saw her sister there, sound asleep under the covers. She gave the older girl a little shove. “Cini!” she called again, a bit louder this time.

She got an unhappy mumble in reply. K'cintzena pulled the bedcovers over her head.

Adege giggled. K'cintzena hated getting up in the morning. N’stadege didn’t understand it – mornings were nice. They brought breakfast and sunshine and loud fights in the bathroom. That was a good start to the day, as far as Adege was concerned. Tzena had thought so once, too, according to their mother, but then—

Their mother.

The previous night stormed back into N’stadege’s mind at whirlwind speed. Suddenly, she fully remembered the reason she had slept curled up next to her safe, loving, older sister. “Cini!” she cried again, this time crawling back under the covers and burying her face in the other girl’s back. She grabbed for an arm and hung on tightly.

“Meh?” K'cintzena awoke totally confused and still half-asleep, but she rubbed the seven-year-old’s shoulder reassuringly. She blinked a bit, then focused on her sister’s shaking form. The black-and-blue splotches on N’stadege’s arms brought it back for her. “It’s okay, Adege,” she whispered. “It’s gonna be okay. I love you.”

Adege threw her two little arms around Tzena’s neck with such force that Tzena thought she would end up choked. To prevent that, the fourteen-year-old slowly sat up, sister in tow, and took the little girl’s hands in her own. “It’ll be okay,” she repeated, looking Adege straight in the eyes. She forced herself to sound more certain than she really was; after all, Adege was no telepath, so she’d never know the truth, and the feigned confidence would surely help calm her down.

Adege took a deep, shaky breath, then nodded slowly. If Cini said it would be okay, then it would be. “I’m—” she gulped in air, still trying to still her sobbing. “I’m hungry.”

K'cintzena smiled. “You’re always hungry!” she teased, outwardly shaking her head, but inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that Adege wasn’t going to cry any more. She had sobbed for nearly an hour the previous night before exhausting herself, and that whole time, Tzena had racked her brain for a way to fix things. She still hadn’t really thought of one. “Let’s say a quick prayer to the gods that they fix Mom and make her normal again, hey? Then we’ll make ourselves breakfast.”

N’stadege nodded again and brushed away the last few tears. The two padded out of the bedroom towards the dining room. Tzena stopped in the kitchen on the way, to grab the lighter. She sat down at the kitchen table across from Adege, and lit the stumpy white prayer candle sitting on it. “Why don’t you say it?” she suggested, hoping the little ritual would help calm the girl.

Adege paused for a moment, thinking with the tip of her tongue pressed up against the corner of her mouth. She stared at the flickering candle for a while, then made up a child’s prayer. “To any gods who want to help me, and ‘specially to any who watch over little kids and their mommies. And their dadas too, I guess, but mostly their mommies. My sister and me are praying to you now because we’re scared because our mommy hit me last night. I didn’t mean to do anything bad, but I sorta did and that made her mad, and she was drunk and kinda crazy, and then she hit me with a pot. And her hand too, but the pot hurt worse and left funny red marks.” Her voice trailed off a little before continuing. “Anyways, can you please make her better? Because I think she’s sick or something, and so does Cini ‘cuz this isn’t normal, and I—” She sniffled a little before continuing. “I love my mommy and I want her to love me again, too. I promise that I’ll be good and help everybody. And I’ll pray to you all the time if you can help me, even at lunch at school when I usually forget.” She looked up at her sister, wondering if she had done it right.

“So be it?” suggested Tzena softly.

Adege gasped as she realized she had forgotten to end the prayer in the manner her parents had taught her. “Oh yeah! So be it! Sorry, gods!”

K'cintzena managed not to laugh at her horrified expression. Adege’s prayers were always this way: childishly heart-felt but totally informal, and she was always so scared she would do something wrong. Personally, Tzena figured she had nothing to worry about: any god who managed to listen all the way through one of Adege’s rambling prayers to answer it would have to be pretty lenient about the formalities.

“Think they heard it?” Adege asked earnestly, kneeling up on her chair and cocking her head at the candle.

“Yeah, Adege, they heard it,” answered Tzena, softly. To herself she thought, ‘Whether they’ll answer it or not is another question, though.’ She sent off her own silent prayer of hope, then blew out the candle and looked up. Adege was staring right back at her. “Breakfast?” K'cintzena suggested. “It’ll be a while before Mom and Dad get up, probably.”

N’stadege nodded knowingly and scampered into the kitchen. “Yeah, but I wanna eat fast and be done just in case. And then I’m gonna go into my room and you’re the only one in the whole Wehr who I’m gonna let in besides me. If Mommy and Dada don’t see me, maybe they won’t get mad. But I wanna eat first! And you’ll bring me lunch if they’re awake, right? And dinner? And tomorrow, too? And can we have scrambled eggs for breakfast?” She opened the refrigerator peered inside.

K'cintzena found herself divided between a smile at her sister’s simplistic logic and a frown at the rationale behind it. “Yes, we can have scrambled eggs,” she finally answered. “And yes, I’ll bring you lunch if you want. But you’re going to have to come out at some point and talk to them, you know.”

Adege carefully set the two eggs she was carrying down on the counter, crossed her arms, and gave her sister a very firm look. “No I won’t! I’m not ever talking to them again!”

“Adege...” Tzena began.

“I’m not!” N’stadege repeated, glaring furiously. “Never!”

K'cintzena sighed. There was no point in talking about it when Adege was in such a stubborn mood, and besides, Tzena wasn’t entirely sure she disagreed with the girl’s logic. It certainly made as much sense as their mother’s attack the previous night had. Instead of answering, she picked up the eggs and broke them into a bowl. “Get me some milk and another egg,” she instructed.

With a sunny smile, N’stadege complied. Life was going to be much more pleasant for her without parents, she decided. Cini would never hurt her, and they’d eat eggs every morning for breakfast, and life would be just fine.

She continued thinking that all throughout the morning and early afternoon. The relationship between the two sisters quickly returned to normal, with Adege yelling at Tzena for taking too long in the bathroom and Tzena yelling at Adege for trying to sneak penciled stick figures into Tzena’s watercolor paintings. N’stadege forgot all about the night before with so much normality surrounding her.

Then the door from their parents’ room creaked open. K'cintzena looked up nervously, then put down her paints. N’stadege looked up fearfully, then ran full-speed into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Tzena heard the lock slide shut.

Irilariel froze, still pajama-clad with hair unkempt, at the door’s slam. She took the few steps and readied a hand to knock on Adege’s door, but a screamed, “Go away!” from the other side paralyzed her briefly. The hand dropped, and a few seconds later, K'cintzena watched warily from her easel as her mother entered the living room. Seeing her this morning brought forth an unexpected surge of rage from within the young teenager.

“Tzena...” Irilariel called, her voice nearly a whisper. She stepped slowly towards her elder daughter.

Tzena stood up, accidentally tipping over her can of paint brushes and scattering them everywhere. “Find someone else to use as your punching bag!” she snapped, uncaring of her mother’s feelings. “Leave me and Adege alone!” She stalked right past Irilariel and into her own bedroom, the slamming of her door a perfect echo of Adege’s.

K'cintzena slumped down to the ground with her back against the door, listening carefully. For a long moment, she heard nothing at all from the hallway. Then Irilariel padded down the hall and knocked on N’stadege’s door. The answering scream of, “Leave me alone!” was followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor and slammed against the door.

After a few seconds, Irilariel’s slow footsteps made their way to K'cintzena’s door. “Tzena, open your door, please.”

“No,” answered the fourteen-year-old. She was still too angry to even consider it.

“Tzena, please. I... I’d just like to talk,” insisted Irilariel in a very soft and subdued voice.

K'cintzena bolted to her feet. “Well maybe you should’ve thought about that last night and talked to Adege instead of hitting her!” she screamed at the door. She pounded the door once for emphasis and was pleased at the satisfying way the door shook and rattled on its hinges. It felt almost as good as hitting her mother would feel, so Tzena thumped the door a second time. “Go away!

Irilariel fell silent for a second, then softly said, “Tzena, I was drunk. I—”

“No kidding,” interrupted Tzena bitterly. “You’re worse than Dad.”

“I... I know,” admitted Irilariel very quietly. “I was, last night. I’m sorry, Tzena. I never meant to hurt your sister, she just—”

“She just what?” demanded Tzena. “Stayed up past her bedtime? Didn’t stay in her room when she was grounded? So you hit her with a pot and I’m supposed to think that’s okay?”

“No, Tzena. It’s wasn’t okay. I know—”

“Screw you! Go away, Mom. I have history studying to do.” She turned away from the door and flipped on her music in an attempt to drown out her mother’s voice. She knew she was going to pay for her rebelliousness at some point, but just at the moment, telling her mother to take a flying leap felt pretty good.