by Sharon Shinn
Kate’s visitors were many and various, and they all treated the tall woman as if she were a visionary who might at any moment start speaking in an unintelligible tongue. But Fiona felt right at home with her in a matter of days. There was no subterfuge with Kate, no hidden meaning behind her plain words. She might not speak concisely or always to the point, but she never wasted time on subjects that did not matter. And Fiona learned more than she had ever thought possible.
Reed appeared to be enjoying his summer as well, though he might not have been learning as much. Every day when they returned for dinner, Angeline would quiz them on what they’d discovered that day and how they might incorporate those lessons into their daily lives. Fiona could answer easily, tossing off the names of new plants and the ingredients for new potions, but Reed would often merely shrug and attack his food.
“It was just more logging of entries,” he would say. “Nothing new.” Or, “We walked around the warehouse and looked at the bins. Can I have more potatoes?” Or, “Did you know Robert owns fifty horses and twenty wagons? Fifty horses! The ostlers along the southern route keep stable stalls just for him.”
But if asked, he would say he was having a splendid time and that the merchant life might be the one for him after all. Fiona doubted it, but she was glad to hear that he was at least paying attention and managing to do more than simply be a distraction to the other workers while he was supposed to be working.
Robert Bayliss, in fact, seemed to have taken to Reed with all the fondness of an indulgent uncle. “I do enjoy that boy,” he told Angeline and Fiona one night over dinner. Angeline had invited both Robert and his wife, Victoria, to join them for the evening meal, and Thomas had arrived unexpectedly. It was quite a convivial gathering, for Thomas had brought letters from Damiana and Robert had brought wine. “He’s so full of energy. Nothing slows him down, nothing stops him. Give him a problem and he’ll tease at it till he solves it.”
“Or forgets about it,” Fiona said a little dryly.
Reed grinned. “I’ve been concentrating.”
“It’s hard to be a young lad and have to sit still all day, learning dull facts about shipping lanes and freighting weights,” Robert said with a smile. “I try to give him some variety.”
“Today I helped load grain barrels into the wagons,” Reed said with great enthusiasm. “They’re heavy! And they roll, unless you swing them just right—”
“And nothing ever bores him,” Robert said. “And all my managers like him. I can’t remember the last apprentice I’ve had who seemed so promising.”
“Better hire him, then,” Thomas recommended.
“He’s supposed to have another year of school left,” Fiona said with a little frown.
“I don’t care if I finish school,” Reed said.
“Well, your mother does,” Angeline said. “So you can talk about your career next summer.”
Victoria, who had said very little during dinner, now touched a cloth napkin to her lips. “Angeline, such a lovely meal. You are so accomplished in all the domestic skills,” she said in a faint voice. “But I find—I’m a little tired. Could I go sit in a quiet room somewhere for a few moments?”
Robert was instantly on his feet, bending over her and looking concerned. “Would you like to go home? I’ll bring around the carriage.”
She gave him a wan smile. “Oh, no. I need to collect my strength before I try to make the journey.”
Angeline came around the edge of the table. “I’ll take you back to my room so you can lie down for a while. Will that be good?”
“Oh, most excellent. Thank you so much. Robert, you sit here and talk with the others. Angeline will see to me.”
They were scarcely out the kitchen door before Reed leaped to his feet. “Thomas! I forgot! Come see my new riding wheel. Robert gave it to me and it’s the most amazing thing.”
With a nod at the other two, Thomas stood up. “Yes, you must display your proficiency to me so I can go home and tell your mother how accomplished you are.”
That quickly, the room emptied out, and Fiona was left alone with Robert, to whom she had never said a word in private in her life. “Would you like something else to eat?” she asked, deciding to play the role of hostess in order to make conversation. “Or I could make some tea. There’s cake, too, when everybody comes back.”
Robert smiled at her. He really seemed like a gentle man, she thought, and most agreeable. She was sorry for him, shackled to such a difficult wife. “Thank you, but I think I’ll wait for that cake,” he said. “Your aunt is quite the baker. I would grow fat if I lived in her house.”
Fiona laughed. “I try to eat normal portions, but Reed just eats and eats and eats. Still, you see how tall he is and still so thin. I suppose he can eat as much as he wants to.”
“I do hope I can convince your brother to come work for me next summer,” the merchant said. “He’s brought so much liveliness to the business! And he’s such a joy to be around. If I’d had a son, I would have wanted him to be like Reed.”
“You don’t have any children?”
He shook his head. “No. I always thought—I always wanted—if the Dream-Maker were here right now, I’d tell her, ‘Give me children! And, more specifically, give me a son.’” He laughed a little, as if to soften the demand, but Fiona could hear the deep wistfulness in his voice. “But even she can’t help me out, I’m afraid.”
“So why didn’t you have children?” Fiona asked, trying to make her voice sympathetic so the question didn’t sound so blunt.
“Oh, my dear, you can see how fragile Victoria is. She would never withstand the rigors of childbirth.”
Fiona gentled her voice even more. “Some miscarriages, then?”
“No, no, nothing like that. Just—we made a decision when we first got married that we wouldn’t try to have children of our own.”
“But if you had always wanted a son, and you knew she was too frail to have children—” Fiona began. She could tell she was being indelicate, but it simply didn’t make sense to her that he had married the woman if she couldn’t give him what he wanted. Behind Robert, she saw Thomas enter the kitchen so quietly that the merchant didn’t even turn around or appear to notice him.
Robert smiled again, but the expression was full of pain. “She was happy and healthy when we were first betrothed. Then there was an accident, and everything changed. But I would not have considered drawing back from my engagement! And I have always loved her very much. I have had a very good life. It is just this one thing I would change about it if I could. I knew when I married her that she could not have children, and I married her still, for love.”
Behind Robert, Thomas opened his mouth. His expression was so cynical that Fiona could almost guess what he planned to say: Your wife could have children if she so chose. You have let her delude you all these years. Fiona kept her gaze on Thomas, her face neutral but her eyes full of warning. He smiled a little, turned his head away, and said nothing.
“I think you’re a man who is not so very old,” Fiona said in a kind voice. “Someday the world may change, and you will find yourself a father after all.”
Robert smiled again. “But I cannot wish for the changes that would make such a thing possible. Which is why I need Isadora! To give me all the wishes of my heart at once.”
“That is why we all need Isadora,” Thomas said, stepping forward then to join the conversation. “Because our hearts are filled with so many wishes.”
“I only have one or two,” Fiona said.
Thomas took his seat again and studied her. “Given time,” he said, “you will think of more.”
Reed came knocking through the door again. “Robert! You didn’t come out and see me on the riding wheel! I’ve gotten so much better.”
Robert came instantly to his feet. “Well, then, I’ll come watch you for a moment or two.” He smiled down at Fiona. “You won’t let your aunt serve cake without me, will you?”
“We
won’t even cut it till you’re back,” she promised.
He followed Reed out the door, and now she was left face-to-face with Thomas, to whom she had even less to say. “I could make you some tea, if you like,” she offered without much enthusiasm.
He grinned. “I could make it myself if I wanted it,” he said, stretching out his long legs. “You don’t have to wait on me.”
She shrugged and made no more effort at conversation.
“So, are you enjoying your summer with Angeline?” he asked.
“Yes, and the days I spend with Kate. I’ve learned so much, I think I could be the village witch if I wanted.”
He tilted his head to one side, studying her with his dark eyes. “Maybe,” he said in a musing voice. “But I don’t see that as the truth of your future.”
“But then, you’ve never seen the—the ‘truth of my future’ with any great skill,” she said.
He grinned again. “I still say you’ll never be a Safe-Keeper.”
“I still say you’re wrong.”
He reached out a hand to toy with a knife left on the table after dinner. “You don’t care much for silence. Your passion for justice is too strong. I do not believe you’d be able to keep a desperate secret. You would be much more likely to try and right the wrong.”
“You say it as if that would be a flaw on my part.”
He spread his hands, the knife glinting in the candlelight. “A flaw in a Safe-Keeper, yes. A flaw in an ordinary human being? Hardly.”
“I admit there are things my mother knows that trouble me. But perhaps if they had been whispered to me in confidence, I would understand them better.”
“Tell me,” he said. “If you weren’t going to be a Safe-Keeper, what would you choose to be?”
She was taken aback. No one had ever asked her that. “I would—I would be—”
“And you can’t be the village witch, either. It’s much the same thing. Elminstra knows at least half of your mother’s secrets, and not because your mother repeated them.”
“I would go to Wodenderry and sew for the queen,” she said at random, laughing a little. “I would learn to train horses to perform in traveling shows. I would sail a boat across the Cormeon Sea and trade for riches in foreign lands.”
“You could do any of those things,” he said. “Who knows? And you might.”
She shook her head. “Not me. I was meant to stay close to the place I was born. The real one who wants assorted adventures is my brother.”
“He’s not your brother,” Thomas said in a silky-soft voice.
Fiona stared at him. “He’s—what?”
“He’s not your brother.”
It was amazing to her how much she hated him at that moment. “He’s not my brother by blood, but he’s my brother in spirit. We were raised together. We protect each other. We believe the same things. He’s my soul mate.”
Thomas nodded. “That, yes. But he’s not your brother. And a time may come when you’re glad of it.”
She came quickly to her feet. “I can’t think of a single time when I’ve been glad of a thing you said,” she told him. She strode from the room and through the kitchen door to the back yard where Reed was demonstrating his talent on the wheel. It was a big spoked circle surmounted by a small seat and propelled by pedals, and Reed was following a wobbly path down the rich summer grass.
“See? I can stay balanced for almost ten minutes now,” he was calling. He spotted Fiona. “Look! Can you see how much better I am than I was yesterday?”
“Wonderful,” she called. “Can you go faster?”
Of course he could not resist the challenge, and of course he tumbled over almost immediately. Robert cried out in alarm, but Fiona was laughing. Reed, when he scrambled to his feet, was laughing, too.
“Tomorrow I’ll go faster,” he said. “Robert, I can’t tell you how much I love the riding wheel. It’s the best present anyone has ever given me.”
“Well, you’re the best worker I’ve ever had,” the older man said.
Angeline poked her head out the door. “Doesn’t anyone want cake? It’s chocolate and I’m ready to serve it now.”
“She made chocolate for me because it’s my favorite,” Reed told Robert as they all immediately turned back for the house.
“Maybe she made it for me. It’s my favorite,” Robert replied.
“It’s everybody’s favorite,” Fiona said, slipping inside ahead of both of them. “You’re not so special.”
They ate quite merrily, all of them—or at least Fiona—managing to forget there was an invalid in the house. But as soon as Robert had finished his piece, he laid down his fork and stood up.
“Time for me to get Victoria home,” he said. “It’s been a long day for her. Angeline, as always, you have been the most gracious hostess. I have so much enjoyed this evening with you and your charming guests.”
Angeline offered to help him guide Victoria to the coach, and Thomas offered to hold the horses, so Reed and Fiona were left to clean up the dishes and sneak another piece of cake. Reed was in an exuberant mood, and as he worked, he talked almost nonstop about Robert and the job and the riding wheel and Thomas and how much he was enjoying this summer in Lowford. Fiona listened and nodded and agreed with all of it except the praise offered to Thomas, though she didn’t bother telling Reed how much she disliked the Truth-Teller. It was her own secret, after all, and despite what anyone else might think, she was good at keeping things to herself.
Chapter Eight
Later in the season, about a week before Fiona and Reed were planning to return home, Isadora and Thomas both passed through Lowford at the same time. Angeline had another dinner party, for just the five of them, though it seemed very strange to Fiona that this particular group of people would gather together without her mother also being present. She supposed Isadora and Thomas often visited Angeline when they came to Lowford, and that seemed wrong, too. It was hard to believe that people could have lives and associations that went on when Fiona and Reed and Damiana were not there to witness them and participate.
Isadora, it turned out, hadn’t been to Tambleham all summer. “So I have no news for you,” she said. “But isn’t it about time for you two to be going home?”
“Next week,” Fiona and Reed said in unison. She was happy about it; he was not. It was not that he didn’t want to see his mother and his friends again; he just hated to leave behind the new friends and new pastimes he had discovered in Lowford.
Isadora glanced at Thomas. “Are you escorting them back?”
He shook his head.
“I am,” Angeline said rather quickly. “I want to visit my sister for a while.”
Isadora nodded. “Well, I’ll be by before Wintermoon if I can. But certainly I’ll be there for the holiday.”
“Where have your travels taken you recently?” Angeline asked.
Isadora looked sorrowful for a moment. “Oh, I was just at my daughter’s in Thrush Hollow for the week. Her husband has fallen sick with a lung ailment. That poor girl, she’s had so much suffering in her life, I think she must be destined to be Dream-Maker after me. Though I don’t say that to her face, of course. She tries hard not to blame me for all her troubles, but sometimes I think—well, I won’t be going back there for a while. It might be easier on all of us.”
“Tell us somewhere else you’ve been,” Reed said. “A place where happier things occurred.”
They all smiled a little at that. “Well, of course you’ve heard the splendid news,” Isadora said. “I was in the royal city about ten months ago and just this week the young queen had a baby boy! You can imagine the celebration they’re planning.”
“Unfortunately, the baby is not the king’s,” Thomas said coolly.
Angeline and Isadora exclaimed aloud at this. Fiona merely looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You can’t be serious!” Angeline said. “Surely the queen wouldn’t—I mean, every eye is upon her—”
“But are you s
ure?” Isadora said. “Everyone says that she seems so happy.”
Thomas shrugged. “I tell the truth as it makes itself known to me—and I doubt I’m the only Truth-Teller to know this fact. There may be a Safe-Keeper or two who’s been told this secret, but I believe this is one truth that will wriggle out, and fairly soon.”
“Oh, dear. Well, that’s a true shame,” Isadora said. “I hope I wasn’t helping to grant anybody’s wishes in this case—oh, dear—”
“Well, I don’t think this is very happy news either,” Reed said. “Don’t you have any stories that have better endings?”
“Let’s see … in Marring Cross a young man proposed to the girl he loved and she accepted him. That was a happy ending,” Isadora said. “But I think true love prevails even without the services of the Dream-Maker.”
“Or this world would be an even sadder place than it is,” Angeline agreed, coming to her feet. “Would anyone like dessert? Fiona and I made a cherry tart this afternoon.”
“Now that’s my dream come true,” Reed said. Everyone laughed.
After that they made tea and ate sweets and talked late into the night. Both guests were gone by morning, after promising to meet again no later than Wintermoon. Fiona spent her final week in Kate’s garden, taking prized cuttings and listening intently to the detailed instructions on how to care for them.
In a week, Fiona and Reed and Angeline were packing their belongings and piling into a comfortable traveling carriage that Robert had insisted on lending them. Fiona and Reed leaned out the windows to watch the town fold back behind them, but Angeline merely sat with her head resting against the back of the seat, and looked as if she was tired before the journey had even begun.
When they were not far from the outskirts of Tambleham, only about two miles from their own house, the carriage came to a complete halt. “Now what?” Angeline exclaimed, because they’d been stopped twice already on the road, once by a flooded river and once by a felled tree.
Reed craned his head out the window. “It looks like—it looks like a hay cart has dropped its load all over the road,” he said. “Oh! And there’s another wagon. I think maybe they collided and the hay got knocked out. The horses are sideways across the road, too.”