apprenticed to the cobbler, so I don’t see him very much. And then my younger brother, Maco. Mother died when he was born. That’s why I had to go to the market; Tat needed the help, but Maco is only four.”
Malena grimaced. Such a hard beginning to a life...
“Was your tat nice some of the time?” Malena asked, images from the scene she’d glimpsed the day before fresh in her mind’s eye.
Kinora shrugged. “Not really. Cook says he has a rough hand. I stayed out of his way as much as I could.”
The girl’s tone was so matter-of-fact that Malena turned her gaze from the tripod-mounted telescope that she’d noticed near the window, and swiveled in her seat to check Kinora’s expression. She was blinking and would not meet Malena’s eyes.
“If your tat needed you in the market, how did he feel about you coming to work here instead?”
“Now he’s happy, but at first he said no. He was yelling at me when Semya ur-Hasha came to the cart. Semya asked about indigo prices. That got Tat’s attention even through the wine. They bargained for a while. Then Semya said he’d heard me singing, and he asked if Tat charged his customers extra for the music. Tat got a funny look on his face. Semya said the head cook had been making sour pies lately, and a turtle dove might convince her to sweeten them up. Tat said I couldn’t come because he needed the help, and Semya said to use my wages to hire someone.”
“And now you live here?”
Kinora’s head bobbed. “Except when I bring my coin back to Tat, I’m here all the time.”
“Do you like it?”
“They make me take lots of baths. And I hate brushing out my hair. But I guess it’s nice.”
“And do they have you sing in the kitchen?”
“Cook says to sing every time she makes blackberry tarts, and Semya says he can tell whether my song is good by how sweet his dessert is. But I think he’s teasing me, ‘cause cook always uses the same cup of honey.”
Malena laughed. “Maybe.” She stood and gestured to the darkened doorway that separated the sleeping area from the rest of the apartment. “You didn’t light any lamps in there.” She had just noticed a familiar trunk beyond the washstand; had her other things been moved up here as well? When? By whom?
Kinora shook her head, looking embarrassed. She had not moved from her hair-maintenance post by the chair.
Malena read the girl’s body language, the bright lamps near the door, the shadows beyond. Her lips twitched. “Let me guess. You don’t like dark corners any more than I did when I was a girl.”
Kinora shook her head again. “It’s… scary.”
“Well, Kinora, now you’ve got someone to keep you company. Let’s finish the tour.” She lifted a lamp.
The walls in the inner room were whitewashed and bare, except for a long pegboard that held belts, hats, and two well-worn leather slings. A wardrobe in one corner contained a stack of wool blankets, a cape, a few underclothes, a coat, half a dozen shalwar and kameez of various cloths, and a pair of tall boots still stiff from the cobbler. Her own clothing, in three large trunks opposite, looked disproportionate by comparison. Whoever had brought her things had found no logical place to put them, and had left the conundrum for her to resolve.
A rocking chair filled one corner by the fireplace, a flame-colored afghan draped over one arm. Its handrests and wicker seat were smooth from years of use, but it seemed too delicate and feminine to be a favorite of her husband. Perhaps a legacy from his mother, added in anticipation of her arrival?
Her eyes flitted to the bed. So narrow—no room to be strangers...
She noticed a flash of white and yellow on one pillow and bent, exhaling softly.
“What is it?” Kinora asked.
Malena held a daisy aloft, twisting the stem so the petals would spin.
5
stonecaster ~ Toril
“Hear something, boy?” Toril asked, pulling back on the reins to bring his mount to a standstill. Twice now the
Malena grimaced. Such a hard beginning to a life...
“Was your tat nice some of the time?” Malena asked, images from the scene she’d glimpsed the day before fresh in her mind’s eye.
Kinora shrugged. “Not really. Cook says he has a rough hand. I stayed out of his way as much as I could.”
The girl’s tone was so matter-of-fact that Malena turned her gaze from the tripod-mounted telescope that she’d noticed near the window, and swiveled in her seat to check Kinora’s expression. She was blinking and would not meet Malena’s eyes.
“If your tat needed you in the market, how did he feel about you coming to work here instead?”
“Now he’s happy, but at first he said no. He was yelling at me when Semya ur-Hasha came to the cart. Semya asked about indigo prices. That got Tat’s attention even through the wine. They bargained for a while. Then Semya said he’d heard me singing, and he asked if Tat charged his customers extra for the music. Tat got a funny look on his face. Semya said the head cook had been making sour pies lately, and a turtle dove might convince her to sweeten them up. Tat said I couldn’t come because he needed the help, and Semya said to use my wages to hire someone.”
“And now you live here?”
Kinora’s head bobbed. “Except when I bring my coin back to Tat, I’m here all the time.”
“Do you like it?”
“They make me take lots of baths. And I hate brushing out my hair. But I guess it’s nice.”
“And do they have you sing in the kitchen?”
“Cook says to sing every time she makes blackberry tarts, and Semya says he can tell whether my song is good by how sweet his dessert is. But I think he’s teasing me, ‘cause cook always uses the same cup of honey.”
Malena laughed. “Maybe.” She stood and gestured to the darkened doorway that separated the sleeping area from the rest of the apartment. “You didn’t light any lamps in there.” She had just noticed a familiar trunk beyond the washstand; had her other things been moved up here as well? When? By whom?
Kinora shook her head, looking embarrassed. She had not moved from her hair-maintenance post by the chair.
Malena read the girl’s body language, the bright lamps near the door, the shadows beyond. Her lips twitched. “Let me guess. You don’t like dark corners any more than I did when I was a girl.”
Kinora shook her head again. “It’s… scary.”
“Well, Kinora, now you’ve got someone to keep you company. Let’s finish the tour.” She lifted a lamp.
The walls in the inner room were whitewashed and bare, except for a long pegboard that held belts, hats, and two well-worn leather slings. A wardrobe in one corner contained a stack of wool blankets, a cape, a few underclothes, a coat, half a dozen shalwar and kameez of various cloths, and a pair of tall boots still stiff from the cobbler. Her own clothing, in three large trunks opposite, looked disproportionate by comparison. Whoever had brought her things had found no logical place to put them, and had left the conundrum for her to resolve.
A rocking chair filled one corner by the fireplace, a flame-colored afghan draped over one arm. Its handrests and wicker seat were smooth from years of use, but it seemed too delicate and feminine to be a favorite of her husband. Perhaps a legacy from his mother, added in anticipation of her arrival?
Her eyes flitted to the bed. So narrow—no room to be strangers...
She noticed a flash of white and yellow on one pillow and bent, exhaling softly.
“What is it?” Kinora asked.
Malena held a daisy aloft, twisting the stem so the petals would spin.
5
stonecaster ~ Toril
“Hear something, boy?” Toril asked, pulling back on the reins to bring his mount to a standstill. Twice now the
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