by TJ Muir
Eben didn’t look convinced, but nodded anyway.
“Okay, just let go of that branch. I’m holding you.”
He felt Eben wobble as he released the branch, and pull on his arm as he tried to recover. Instinctively, Kirrin knew they would both lose their balance in a moment.
“Jump!” Kirrin hollered, pushing Eben off the branch as he jumped right beside him.
A moment later, Kirrin’s head broke the surface and he let out a whoop that echoed across the water. A second later, Eben’s head popped up, looking a little dazed and less triumphant.
“That was fantastic! You did great! You should have seen yourself! You’re a warrior,” Kirrin said, watching as Eben’s uncertainty transformed into determination.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Eben said.
“C’mon. Let’s do it again,” he said, before Eben could change his mind. “It’ll be way easier next time. And I’ll help you the whole way, just like before.”
Before long Eben was scrambling up the tree with ease and plunging into the river. It became a contest to see who could jump further out into the water, or make the bigger splash.
They took their time heading back into the city, stopping when they found a mulberry bush bursting with plump ripe berries. Back across the bridge, they could feel the heat baking the city, even though it was late afternoon and the sun wasn’t directly overhead. They bought some chilled stuffed grape leaves and pickles and then turned toward the north terrace.
“Want to try your luck?” a voice called out. Kirrin turned to see Trip ,who was sitting on a wooden crate with a larger crate in front of him and a deck of cards in his hands. With the lightest flick of his wrist, three cards landed face up on his make-shift table: Triappa, Breshan and the Nibbin. “Find the Nibbin, win a silver.”
Kirrin had played this game many times with Kip and Duffy, and mostly lost until he figured out how they cheated. He was willing to put money on the fact that Kip and Duffy were better cheaters than Trip was.
Kirrin put a silver down on the table and let himself lose the first round as he studied Trip’s handiwork. “Try again?” Kirrin looked uncertain, glancing over at Eben and back again. “Double or nothing?”
Kirrin paused, counted to five, making sure he looked doubtful, felt the coins in his pocket. He pulled out a silver, slowly and placed it on the table. Given his first loss, he figured Trip would most likely try to shuffle them around and make it appear as though it were one of the three. Letting one card land a little harder or holding it back as though being hidden slightly-- all false clues to distract the unwary player.
The cards came to a stop, Kirrin chewed his lip for a minute. He began to point toward the card he knew was the Nibbin. “That one,” he said tentatively, and then moved it toward another one. “No, that one,” he said, before wavering, and pointing to his first card again.
“You sure?” Trip asked. His tone was subtle, but pitched to instill doubt.
Kirrin played along, paused, and then nodded. “Yeah. That one.”
The expression on Trip’s face changed slightly as he flipped the card over, revealing the Nibbin. “Today is your lucky day! Try again?” he asked, immediately shuffling the cards around as though Kirrin had already agreed.
This time, Trip changed his style. In response, Kirrin wasted no time pretending to guess, putting his finger on the card he knew was the Nibbin and holding it there. The two exchanged a knowing glance, and Trip smiled, realizing he had tried to con a con. Without any argument or further enticement, he handed Kirrin the four silver he had won, nodding acknowledgment.
“You can win it back from Aldon,” Kirrin laughed. “He’s terrible at reading people.”
Trip flashed a smile as he cackled. “That’s the truth.” He nodded, an amused but thoughtful frown on his face, as he took Kirrin’s measure. “You’re no fool. That’s a good thing.”
Kirrin felt a light tug at his sleeve and turned to see Eben, looking anxious. “I really got to go. I’m already late for dinner. My parents’ll thrash me for disappearing all day. Or worse…”
“Like what?” Trip asked.
Eben shrugged, looking unsure. “Dunno. My dad always threatens to send me down to the southern provinces for some soldiering.”
Trip’s eyes widened slightly, but Kirrin crowed, hearing that. “Your Mama would never ever ever let that happen. Or she’d go down with you to make you hot dinner every night and tuck you in.”
All three of them laughed, but Kirrin noticed Eben looked a little uncomfortable.
“It’s okay,” Trip said, stepping in. “You’re lucky you got a mom and dad who care about you and are good to you. Not everyone gets that lucky.”
Kirrin clapped Eben on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”
SOFT BREAK
The market was slowing down as the heat of the day began to settle in, when Kirrin spotted one of the girls from the Da’har’s kitchens. He wondered if this was a day off for her, or if she was there on an errand. Kirrin wandered around, browsing, but he kept his eye on her the entire time. She had light hair, tied back by a ribbon that didn’t stop a few strands from curving around her neck.
Kirrin ducked over to a vendor selling hard candy and bought a small bag of assorted flavors. He worked his way around and waited until the girl turned to leave the scarves she was looking at.
She bumped into Kirrin, who pretended to be looking at some silk scarves behind her. She gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. “Oh, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Kirrin bent to pick up the bag she had knocked from his hand. “It was completely my own fault, for not paying attention. These candies are so good,” he said, glancing down at the small bag. Then he hesitated for a moment before extending the bag to her. “Here, have one. I insist.”
She held a finger to her lips, considering.
“I just got them from that man over there, who told me they are the very best candies in the entire market. Maybe you’ll know better than I do.” As he said that he tilted the bag slightly, inviting her to try one.
She reached out a hand, slipping it into the bag and drawing out a lemon drop, and popped it into her mouth. A moment later, she smiled. “They are exquisite. Maybe better than the cook makes, but I shouldn’t say that.” Hand back over her mouth, eyes wide, but smiling.
Another girl called out to her, “Jenny, stop dawdling. We’ve got to get back.”
“I’m coming,” she called back. “Just a moment.” Then she turned back to Kirrin.
“Is your friend angry?” he asked before she could say anything. “Here, take the candies and share them with her. I insist.” He pushed the bag into her hand.
“Thank you. And no, I don’t think Netta is angry, just in a hurry.” She smiled as she spoke, and then turned and hurried off. She turned back quickly, and called out, “Thank you.” Then she disappeared with her friend.
Kirrin smiled to himself, thoroughly pleased. He had two names now, and the beginning of a plan. He’d let it sit for a few days. If he was learning anything from Ch’hikk, it was practicing patience. At least now he had his exercises to keep him busy.
SOFT BREAK
The Moons were almost full as Kirrin chased Ch’hikk across the city. She had taught him the secret to this exercise was to stay in motion, to flow. That flow was punctuated by turns and leaps and landings, but she never actually stopped. She never actually taught him, either. He followed her, and whenever she was going to do something new or different, she would slow down and almost pause, as if to say, watch and copy. He followed her down an alley that turned a corner. Instead of leaning into the corner, she bounced up, feet up against the outer wall, and ran sideways along the wall, disappearing around the corner.
Kirrin’s confidence crumbled, seeing that. He approached the corner a few strides behind Ch’hikk, trying to figure out how she had done it, but his mind was still stunned with the fact that she had run sideways on a wall. The corner Kirrin made was nowh
ere near as graceful or elegant as Ch’hikk’s. He heard her laugh from up ahead, calling back, “Sloppy. Very sloppy.” But she slowed her pace slightly.
By the end of the night Kirrin ached all over and he had banged his knees and shins multiple times, but he had finally made a few wall runs that did not end in “sloppy.”
Ch’hikk showed up once or twice every week, each time running Kirrin through his paces and adding in something new. He learned how to hop over things, spinning and changing direction as he moved, how to run long thin metal railings. She often found areas to practice where he could repeat something over and over.
They spent a good part of the night in one corner of the square, leaping from the raised platform, across the steps, landing on a thin wall, spinning in a circle, hopping down, rolling across the grass, then swinging from a pipe that held a canopy during the day. By the time they ended up at the north terrace, Kirrin’s muscles were burning, and he flopped down onto the ground with no need for an invitation.
As expected, Ch’hikk just disappeared, leaving Kirrin on his own. He lay there for a while, listening to the sounds of the night. The city had a much different feel than during the day. There was still activity, and the faint sounds of music rose from the harbor. As he lay there, he thought back over the last year or so. So much had changed. His whole life, everything about himself. Before, he never would have braved the city in the middle of the night, or stood up to Aldon, or had Trip treat him with respect. He was learning a lot, working hard. He was actually happy.
The sound of a woman’s laughter in the distance reminded him of Miral. He sighed, feeling his happiness diminish. What was it about her that wrapped him up in knots? Why did he keep going back for more, knowing it was going to be the same? He wished he had someone he could ask for advice-- useful advice, rather than the bad advice from Kip and Duffy. His mother was the one person he ever talked to about things, who really understood him and helped him figure things out. He couldn’t ask her about this, though. He needed to talk to someone he could rely on to give him solid advice that would actually work.
SOFT BREAK
Kirrin loaded his plate with another chunk of ham and scooped some scrambled eggs on top of it, threw a chunk of bread and cheese next to it and sat down to eat. His midnight workouts were giving him a huge appetite.
“Grain is unloaded. Still needs to be emptied into the bin. Oh, and that chestnut horse’ll need a shoe,” Perrin said, as he put down a crate of fresh produce by the kitchen door. “The Barn roof’s leaking again. I’ll have to get someone in to mend the roof.”
“I can do the roof,” Kirrin said, swallowing a chunk of ham and licking his fingers.
Two heads swiveled in unison, staring at him.
“What?” Kirrin asked, looking back at Tattia and Perrin.
Mouths opened, then closed, and they looked at each other then back at Kirrin.
“Nothing,” Perrin said. “It’s just a kind of a big job.”
Kirrin scoffed. “It’s a roof. I can do it. I do that kind of thing all the time out on the estate.”
Another exchange of looks. Kirrin felt insulted. “Look, if I mess it up, I’ll pay for the roofer to repair it. Okay?”
Confusion turned to outright shocked disbelief. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother nod slightly, with her pleading look.
Perrin didn’t look entirely convinced, but his shoulders slumped slightly as he nodded. “Okay. You’ll need to check how many slates need--”
“Replacing. And which ones can be put up with new pegs. and which ones will need hangars to get them to hold. I got this.”
Perrin blinked, surprised, but his wariness evaporated, hearing Kirrin outline the job.
Kirrin felt a moment of satisfaction, but kept his gloating moment to himself. He wasn’t sure what had made him volunteer. He didn’t have much to do during the day, and as long as he was done before evening, it was no big deal. It was worth the points he was scoring in favors and being the model son. He was still in the outhouse, favor-wise, with both of them… and probably would remain there until he had grandchildren.
He made a quick inventory of what he would need, and borrowed Perrin’s wagon to run out to pick up materials. While he was out he made a quick side-trip to find out who made regular deliveries to the Da’har’s estate. It didn’t take long to sell his love-sick sob story to the driver, and bribe him with a handful of coins to let someone ride along for a few days.
Then it was back to the inn and a long sweaty workout on the roof. It wasn’t hard work, but the heat made up for it.
By evening, most of the broken and missing slates had been repaired or replaced. He’d have to go back up later to finish a dozen or so-- but those weren’t the ones causing the leaking, so he wasn’t too worried about it.
His mother made him a special dinner, and Perrin brought him a cold cider- the hard cider. The man clapped him on the back and thanked him, complimenting his work. Once, that praise would have meant the world to Kirrin, but Perrin’s approval weighed less against Hak’kar’s good opinion.
Once he was done with dinner, he excused himself to go out for a run. Tattia looked at him in disbelief. “I envy your never ending supply of energy. Oh, to be twenty again,” she said, laughing. “Go, out with you. Be home before it’s late.”
Not quite twenty, but Kirrin didn’t want to argue. “Promise,” Kirrin said as he ducked out.
He had no intention of going for a run, but it felt good to stretch his legs a bit after all the bending and stooping. There was a nice breeze coming over the north terraces as he pulled up to a walk and headed down toward the harbor.
It didn’t take long for him to find Aldon. Kirrin spotted the dark curly hair and burly shoulders bent over a card table. The man wasn’t exactly original and that made him predictable. Kirrin liked that, now that he knew how to use information to his advantage. Across from him, Trip leaned back in his chair, enjoying life as well as the card game.
“Room for one more?” Kirrin asked, as he walked up to the group carrying a pitcher of the pub’s best ale.
“Sure, take my seat,” one of the players said, tossing his cards onto the table. “I’m done.”
Aldon looked up, eyes narrowed, glanced toward Trip, but Trip smiled and waved his hand toward the vacant seat. A fourth fellow with dark brown hair, stinking of wine, glanced quickly up from his cards as though looking away for even a moment might jinx his luck.
The first few rounds Kirrin lost on purpose, using the time to study each of the other three, looking for the secret clues and body language that betrayed winning or losing hands. Kirrin let himself lose slightly more than he won. But he made sure when he did win, it was Aldon who took the loss. Kirrin wasn’t sure, but he sensed that Trip had picked up on this. By the end of the night, Kirrin had a small pile of Aldon’s coins.
“Tonight wasn’t my lucky night,” Aldon said after the final hand.
Kirrin wondered if Aldon had any lucky nights, but kept the thought to himself. No need to antagonize the man right now.
“I’m done,” Aldon said. “I’ll see you all later.”
Kirrin stretched, and faked a yawn. “Yeah, hang on, I’ll head out with you,” he said, getting up. “Thanks for the game,” he said to Trip. The fourth man looked up, uninterested in anyone he wasn’t going to beat.
Once they were outside and away from the crowd, Kirrin clapped Aldon on the shoulder. “You played a few good hands tonight.”
Aldon puffed up visibly, hearing that. “Yeah. I did, didn’t I?”
“I don’t usually gamble. But at least I seem to be better at cards than I am with girls.” Kirrin laughed when he said that, realizing there was truth in the lie he was weaving.
Aldon laughed appreciatively. “No one understands girls. They’re good for a little fun, though, ya know?”
“Yeah,” Kirrin said. “I kinda met a girl the other day at the market. I’m trying to figure a way to... you know… impress he
r.”
Aldon nodded. Good. Kirrin didn’t really want to have a conversation with a dullard. “Hey, want to do me a favor? There’s this candy she likes, and I thought you might deliver it to her for me.”
Aldon looked sideways at Kirrin, trying to figure out what was going on. “Why don’t you just bring it to her yourself?”
Kirrin hemmed and hawed, as though he weren’t sure and was thinking about it. “Well, here’s the thing... I was hoping to surprise her. I kind of wanted to find out if I could sneak up to her window or something… you know…” He let Aldon fill in the blanks, which even his dim wits managed.
“Oooh. I gotcha. You want me to go and scout around for you?”
Ding ding. “Would you? I’d pay you to do it even.”
If Aldon had been interested before, he perked up completely, hearing he would get paid for the job.
“I know a guy. He makes regular deliveries to the kitchens. Seems they like everything super fresh, daily, out there.”
“Sure, sure,” Aldon said. “I’ll take care of it. Just tell me what you want me to do.”