Tree Singer by Jacci Turner (best novels for beginners TXT) 📕

Anatolian trotted up and stood quietly by her heels as she studied the village, looking for anything new or out of place. Carved out of the forest generations ago, the village radiated outward from the central square in five rings. The square was where the community held its special meals and celebratory dances.

Every third year, when her clan hosted the three-clan gathering, temporary shelters were placed around the outside of the center square, squeezed between buildings, filling the available space throughout the five rings of homes.

The Leveling Ceremony would be held here in the morning. There was plenty of room for the temporary stage dominating the square, its shape large and hulking in the dark.

She much preferred being one of the “hill families” living on the homesteads outside the village. Homesteads were bigger than homes in the clan center and had loads of space in between. The hill families grew things the clan needed, like trees for building, fruits and vegetables for food. Her brother’s fruits and nuts were always in demand as were the flowers and shrubs her da grew for trade and the pine seedlings her mother planted to replace the forest cuttings.

The paving stones beneath her feet had been brought in by ships or quarried up on the mountain. The village homes had a uniform look—each with a pointed roof, window boxes, and scrolled window shutters carved with intricate designs. Most were painted white, but some wore pastel colors, and each family had a small garden at the rear of the home.

Cather’s family lived close to the village center. The location of their home had more to do with the fact Cather’s parents were healers than anything else. They had to be accessible to the villagers as well as the mill where most of the injuries happened. The mill stood right on the shore of the river.

Clansfolk who lived close to the center generally had smaller families, and most of them worked in the mill or in the shipyard. From tree to mill to ship, her clan constructed vessels of all sizes for the other clans as well as for their own use. Larger ships were constructed in sections and floated down the river to the Ocean Clan where they were assembled and launched.

Mayten kept an eye on the street as she worked her way to Cather’s home. She enjoyed the way lamplight illuminated each home, but felt like an intruder peeking in the open shutters. She quickened her pace.

Cather’s place was just like the other homes except for two distinguishing characteristics—the wooden Healer sign above the door and the small room added onto the rear where a garden would typically be. The extra room held several cots where those who needed longer-term care could stay.

Mayten admired the window boxes filled with beautiful flowers from Mayten’s family garden, at no charge of course. Her friend’s family was always supplied with the choicest of fruits and vegetables, too. That’s how the clan worked. People traded for what they needed and little coin ever changed hands. It worked differently between clans and with those who came through on trading ships to exchange goods with the merchants. But within the clan, money wasn’t really necessary.

Mayten tapped gently on Cather’s door.

“I was hoping you’d come by!” Cather swung the door wide, pulling Mayten into the warm, cozy nest of her home. Mayten gestured at her dog as the door closed and knew that Anatolian would wait outside until she was ready to leave.

She couldn’t help comparing her homestead with Cather’s home. The homestead was spacious, open, and uncluttered, despite the large number of people who lived there.

Here the rooms always felt crowded with overstuffed furniture and knickknacks on every shelf. Cather’s mother could never pass by the trade barges that came up the river without coming back with some new trinket. And she never had the heart to throw anything away.

Cather had often remarked how spare the homestead was, but Mayten loved the clean lines and carved furniture with colorful cushions. She enjoyed the openness of it, sometimes feeling unable to breathe in the closeness of Cather’s home.

“Hello, Mayten,” Cather’s mother said with a smile. She dropped a newly rolled bandage into the large woven basket sitting on the floor beside her. “Excited about tomorrow?”

Cather’s father lifted his pipe in greeting and went back to his book. He sat in one of Mayten’s favorite chairs—a rocker carved from one of her trees. A fire snapped and popped in the fireplace, adding to the cozy feeling.

“Yes, ma’am . . .” Mayten started, intending to say a proper hello, but Cather tugged on her arm and nodded toward her room.

“Go on, girls. You have little time.” Cather’s mother winked.

Cather’s room was decorated in pinks and peppered with flower prints. The bed took up most of the room, leaving only a small dresser for clothes, a rack for hanging dresses, and some shelves that were full of stuffed animals and trinkets. Cather had lost two siblings, one sister in the fever winter and one older brother in a mill accident, leaving her an only child. Sadness seemed to permeate the very walls of the house. Mayten imagined that to be healers and not be able to save your own children must have made their deaths doubly painful.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” Cather dragged Mayten onto her bed where the girls sat facing each other. Her straight brown hair cascaded around her pretty heart-shaped face and her skin glowed the color of pine in the lantern light. Her light skin—one of the lightest on the island—told of her family’s more recent immigration. “It’s nearly bells.”

“I know. I think Da only let me come because Taiwania is practicing her song for tomorrow in our room.” Mayten grimaced. “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to see you before—”

“I know.” Cather gripped Mayten’s hand. “Tomorrow, everything will . . .”

Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, and she swallowed hard.

Mayten gave her a quick hug. “He’ll be okay, Cather. Tray will be