Shadow's Daughter

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Shadow's Daughter Page 10

by Shirley Meier


  "I… borrowed it from the Wizard, because it was pretty. I have to give it back today." That's what I dreamed. Maybe the bell told me to say that. "I din't think you'd like me borrowing it so I hid it—" He held up his hand, interrupting.

  "All right. All right. You don't have to tell me every detail. As long as it's borrowed and is going back today. Right after breakfast."

  "Yes, Papa." Megan ate very slowly.

  It was still dark, as it would be almost till the middle of the day. The Days of Fools were the darkest cycle of the year when any light was welcome. Megan hadn't told her parents that she'd lost a mitt, so she pushed her hands into her coat sleeves. It was getting a little colder but she stopped to look at the decorations anyway. Some people had enough power to make little kraumak of various colors that would glow for an hour or two, or even a few days. Those who couldn't afford to buy dreams from more powerful people would cut evergreen branches and hang them over doorways and around windows.

  At one door a bunch of fairies with wings sat in the boughs of pine over someone's door, while the house across the street was wreathed in blue and orange flames, without burning. Next door to that was a house that was melting. Megan wondered what kind of people liked to live in houses decorated like that.

  During the last days of the cycle, people would come out in their personal costumes. I, I shouldn't dally. Papa said I had to give the bell back this morning. It's still morning.

  She walked past a tree that danced in place, roots making ripples in the ground, branches bending and waving in the still air. Someone had a phoenix as tall as Megan on top of their wall, slowly building its nest, and the whole street around it smelled of camphor and myrrh. Next door someone else built a bear out of snow and ice, with green witch-fire in his eyes. She told herself that she shouldn't stop and look at the decorations. I have to go to the Wizard's house. She shivered with cold, all over now, not just the spot on her head.

  She walked slowly but still got to Victory Square much too quickly. A bonfire had been built in the middle of the square where people were selling cheap mulled wine and expensive hot chocolate while the poorest got the hot, vinegary cider free. Megan stood in line for a cup, and the scent went up inside her head as she drank it, standing next to the fire where it was warmer, trying not to look across the square at the Wizard's house.

  It was well-lit and her main decoration was her garden where the winter had disappeared. Her roses were blooming, the grass and trees were green, and butterflies flew. Her fountains flowed with colored light. And her house door had teeth all the way around.

  The bell inside Megan's shirt was cold and she shivered despite the bonfire. Her hands were bluish and there was frost on her eyelashes though it wasn't that cold. The cold spread from the spot on her head. She gave the cup back to the cider people and tried to smile at the man who gave it to her. "Happy Year-Turning, Goddess guard," he said.

  "May you never be foolish," she answered. I was foolish. I took a Wizard's bell. It was worse than the library the first time; that time she hadn't done anything wrong to own up for. She dragged her toes all the way across the square and into the puddle of the light at the gate, wishing for a shadow that she could hide in. She jumped back as the falcon on the left gatepost, under the kraumak, opened yellow eyes and hissed at her. On the right, the sandy-colored cat just watched, tail twitching; just the tip. It blinked and yawned, showing her its teeth. She had to give it back. She had to. She tried again, and this time the gate animals let her by.

  Beyond the gate it was warm, but the path was cooler than the flower borders and the rest of the garden, cool enough that she was glad of her coat.

  To knock on the door she'd have to step between the teeth; ivory incisors hanging down almost to the top of her head. The stoop had small pointed teeth set in red gums and the doormat was a tongue. I don't want to. I don't want to. The bell TINGED though she'd wrapped it in her shirt to muffle it. She streeetchhhed over the little teeth and put her foot on the doormat-tongue. Nothing happened. She hopped a little, getting both feet together.

  The doorknocker was like the pink uvula hanging down from the top of a mouth and Megan was glad she couldn't reach it. It looked sticky. I can hardly breathe. I'm too cold to breathe. Or I'm too hot, I don't know. She tapped on the door, very quietly, thinking that if nobody heard she could leave the bell on the stoop and go home. She tapped one more time so she could honestly say she tried. There's nobody home…

  The door crashed open all by itself. "Enter." Megan peeked in. If there was someone there, they were invisible. "Enter, I am waiting." She stepped in and stood on the landing. The blackwood stairs reminded her of Papa's old desk. She was shaking and the bell tinged again. "Ahh," the voice said. "Close the door, child."

  She does know. Maybe I won't mind being a bird; birds are happy. She closed the door behind her. It had a metal bird painted on the inside. Megan put my hands behind her against the door. "Come downstairs, to the garden," the voice said. Megan was hot but her coat, wrapped around her, made her feel more secure, so she didn't unbutton it as she went down the stairs.

  The atrium had a sand garden with cactuses, centered around a pool with a cows skull next to it in the sand; a purple flower grew out of one eyesocket. The Wizard, dressed in a robe the color of granite, sat on a red cushion. Her face was impassive.

  "Come, sit down." She pointed to a spot in the sand before her and Megan walked over and sat down, not knowing what else to do, unbuttoning enough to take the bell out.

  "Ididn'tmeantotakeithere," she said all in one breath, putting it down in the sand in front of her where its ring, TIN—k, cut off as the edge was buried. Megan didn't look up, feeling the Wizard's eyes on her.

  "Didn't you?"

  "I had to."

  "Did you?"

  "Welljorgesaidldidn'tbelong. Andhecouldandlsaidl-couldn'—"

  "He dared you," the Wizard said. Megan nodded, looking up. The Wizard's eyes were plain dark brown, but they were still scary. She looked so young.

  A big boy with slanted eyes and yellow skin and hair so black it shone blue, came across the sand carrying a rake.

  "This is San. You met him in the garden the other day, wearing his costume."

  Megan gulped. "You mean the statue with wings?"

  "Yes."

  "Hi. I'm Megan." It was the best she could do. Mama'd want me to be polite. He nodded at her then gave the Wizard a bedraggled red mitt. She put it on the sand beside her and talked to him in a sing-songy language. He bobbed his head in a half-bow.

  "He doesn't understand you, Megan, but I passed on your greeting." She picked up the bell as she got up. San plumped up the cushion and started raking the sand smooth. Megan hesitated, wanting to pick up the mitt but afraid to. The Wizard waited, then pointed. "Take it and come with me," she said, unsmiling.

  "Yesteik." They went upstairs to the second floor, Megan following a step behind, over the deep grey carpets in the halls. She walked so soft Megan couldn't hear her at all. She looked to see if the wizard had a shadow. That's silly, of course she has a shadow. Only demons don't have shadows.

  "Stealing, at your age, usually gets your parents ruined. The loss of a hand is disaster." She opened a door and Megan followed her into the library where the bell had originally been. Megan was suddenly cold again.

  "You should be careful who you steal from, if you're going to do it at all, though I can't fault you for your taste in victims. The current Blue Mage would have had you as one of his gate-posts."

  She sat down again and a big black wing-cat flew over to perch on her shoulder. Though Megan had seen pictures, she'd never having seen a live one before; for a moment startled out of her fear, she stared.

  "Most people would say, 'Don't steal at all,' though in current times it is often necessary. It will likely become worse before it gets better. Come here." She curled a finger at Megan, who scuffed her feet in the carpet uncertainly, then obeyed, and the Wizard handed her the bell that was sudd
enly warm in her hands.

  "Put it where it belongs, then come back here," she said, and waited until Megan stood before her again. "The words on the bell just say 'Be careful what you wish for.'" The Wizard took Megan's chin in her hand and touched the cold spot at her temple, drawing the chill out.

  "If you must steal, don't get caught." She let go, reached up, and scratched the cat under his chin.

  "Yes, Teik."

  She smiled at Megan, like a cat. "You'll remember, believe me. Look in the mirror over there, then go."

  "Thank you, Teik Wizard." Megan went over to the mirror, as tall as she was, real silvered glass, to do as she was told. At her temple the roots of her hair had gone shining white. "Will it stay?" she almost wailed, pulling at the lock hair. That is what Mama meant.

  The Wizard nodded slowly. "One lock of your hair will grow in white," she said.

  Megan wanted to cry, to run, but just walked to the door. It isn't as bad as getting a spanking or Mama or Papa having a hand broken.

  "Megan." The child turned around in the doorway, holding onto the frame, sniffing. "Two more pieces of advice. First, don't ever steal from me again."

  "No, Teik."

  "Second, when you're old enough, get a good teacher of manrauq."

  "Yes, Teik. Bye." Megan ran down the stairs, out the door between the teeth, down the path out the gate.

  When Megan got home, Rilla was sitting in Papa's lap, in Megan's spot. Megan stopped. She felt bad that her place on her Papa's lap was filled by Rilla and at the same time guilty. Then Papa said, "Bylashka, come in, you're cold. There's only hard bread and chai since it's First day. Your mama will be back in a bit and then we'll celebrate." He held out his arm and Megan cuddled under it, sharing his lap with Rilla, where she told Papa what the Wizard had said about the manrauq, not mentioning anything about stealing, or her hair. He hadn't noticed it yet and Megan guessed it would grow out slowly. I guess you can hardly see it. She sniffled and hid her face in his shirt, feeling better.

  After a while Mama came in and sat down, and Megan hooded the light so the room went black. Then Papa said, "This is where we came from. From the dark."

  Mama answered, "Outside it bums. Inside we are safe."

  Then Papa again. "Remember. The world died. The sun was dim and winter ruled for years." Then it was Megan and Rilla's turn.

  "We were born in the dark. We are hope." And Mama uncovered the light.

  "I love you," Papa said, and Rilla and Megan got hugged between Mama and Papa. Megan didn't like just hard bread and chai, but Lixand told the story of the last days of the Old World before it burned and just after, when hard bread and maybe hot chai was all anybody had to eat. Megan nibbled on the bread, glad that when the Days of Fools were over, the world would be safe from the burning for another year.

  Rilla stayed till after the year turning, healing; the two children running together, Megan sponsoring Rilla to the rest of the kidpack. They often went sledding with the other kids, on boards that they'd bent back; and made the hill in their squat icy by packing the snow down. At the bottom, everyone had piled up a snow mountain so you could whiz down and go ker-smack right into it. They could slide on the Stairs, but people disapproved, so they mostly stayed in the Ground to play.

  Ivar had said once that if you were being chased you could get away by sliding, and he'd prigged a buckle that way last iron-cycle. It had been right at the end of the Days when he'd seen someone with metal boot buckles and had cut-'n-grabbed, then slid faster than the guard could run. That had been all the way up in First Quarter, and he'd slid down and hidden in an alley in River.

  The Ragman only gave him a half-Bite for it because it wasn't steel, but had said he'd pay a whole Fang for steel buckles and a whole Bite for a button. A Bite was paid for a big basket of glass that could take a Hand and a couple of days to find, while a Fang could buy a whole bag of 'maranth seeds for flour or porridge, or a little bag of barley or a thick sausage.

  Ivar had given the half-Bite to his da to help get his little sister Lixa's teeth fixed. She'd had one growing in wrong, in the roof of her mouth.

  Serkai and Ivar were always playing real cniffta now, getting their hands cut up when they missed, since Ivar had saved and bought his first knife. Megan had made herself a knife out of wood and practiced with it so when she got a real knife she'd be as good as they were. She almost had enough for her first knife from the cutler's, even though she gave her papa most of her scrounging money. Black-rock had just started costing more and Rilla needed milk while she stayed with them. Milk, and Mama said that they all needed a little fruit or their teeth would fall out and they would get sick.

  Rilla and Megan went sliding with the rest of the pack, then they all had a snowball fight with the Sour Note kids, trying to chase them out of the snow fort they built too close to their squat. We're the mesne of Cooper's Lane and all the Ground north of the gap in the fence at their street, and they can fight theirselves against the Victory Square kidpack.

  The Cooper's Lane kids never fought with Victory Square because they fought dirty, sneaking up to bash other kids with boards. During the snowball fight with the Sour Noters, Ivar and Megan tried to dig tunnels through to the Sour's wall, but they all caved in. It was fun until one of them put a rock into a snowball and hit Arvi in the head. Megan told Rilla to hide before the fray started.

  The Cooper's Laners threw rocks back and there was a lot of yelling and Serkai and Ivar's knives came out; and Eula had Serkai's stick. Arvi had gotten up with a bloody nose and Aage held onto her so she didn't do anything stupid while Jorge challenged their leader, Moden, fists only.

  She bloodied his nose and he hit her in the eye so it started to swell up, but then he got her down because he was bigger and sat on her and shoved her face in the snow until she yelled "Rhunay!" and promised to give up the Sour Noter's chunk of the Ground.

  They were covered in snow and wet all the way to skin; Arvi and Jorge holding snowballs to their noses till they stopped bleeding, grinning and laughing and pounding each other on the back.

  Megan had to go back to find one of her mittens that she'd lost when her tunnel fell in. When she wiggled out, holding the mitten triumphantly, Rilla said, 'Im cold, Meg. Can we go home now?"

  When they got back to the Flats, Megan pulled the latch-strings, left, right, up, down, CLUNK and they went in. There wasn't a fire and Megan wasn't supposed to light one, either, until Mama or Papa came home, so the two children took off all their wet clothes, hanging them up on pegs that Teik Varik had put up. He hadn't been coining around that much lately, saying he had a voyage to prepare for downriver with his Gospozhyn, come break-ice. Whenever she hung up her things, Megan was always reminded of what he said when he put the pegs up; that wet clothes got to smelling like a pile of dead fish and you started to smell poor.

  Megan didn't want to smell poor. I bet Rilla wouldn't like it, either. She picked up the kraumak and they cuddled up in the wallbed in the blankets, where Megan told Rilla stories out of her book. Ness had said that if her Gospozhyn, Yneltzyn, was pleased with the gem she'd just been working on, he might grant her more copper, or even silver. She said that he earned steel Claws for his work, but she could only earn copper as yet. She was saving for feathers to make a tick that would be warmer, and Megan would get the extra blanket.

  Megan rubbed Rilla's hands and feet and her own, making sure they were all warm. Somebody started thumping on the door, but Megan didn't move because she wasn't to answer unless she recognized who it was.

  Marte's voice came drunkenly through the door. "Lix-and! Lixand, don' you shu… shut th' door 'n my face! You answer! You an… answer now!"

  I don't want to answer the door. I should, though. She's… she's nasty kin, but she's family. Megan pulled her mama's robe around herself and told Rilla, "Hide flat behind the pillows."

  "Op… open up. I'm here f’ my daughter." Bang-bang-bangety-bang. Megan opened the door and Marte half fell into the room, bringing the
odor of wine with her. "Whha?"

  "Hi, Aunt Marte. Mama and Papa n' Rilla aren't here." I don't want Rilla to go. Papa said that Aunt Marte was a nalcolic. "You can come back later."

  "Bitch." Aunt Marte scrambled up, hanging onto the door. "Lil’ bitch, jus' like your dam. F'r all you look like my brother! She shouted, looming over Megan who backed up, scared, tripped over the hem of her mother's robe, and fell backward. "Li-AR!" Marte raised a hand up to hit.

  "Shenanya!" Megan yelled as loud as she could, squirming backward, hoping the neighbor—someone— would hear. "SHEN!"

  Lixand, come home early because of the weather, caught his sister's hand from behind. "Marte." Papa saved me. Megan wiggled out of the tangle of robe, leaving it on the floor, and scooted to hold Papa's legs. "You won't raise your hand against my child.' Aunt Marte swayed, blinking at him.

  "Were's m'daughter, lil’ brother?" She waved her free hand vaguely, forgetting all about Megan. "Can' keep'er. Not by law."

  Lixand was shaking, he was so angry. "Marte, you are not getting your daughter back until you go to the healers and stop this drinking. You'll ruin your life and hers."

  "And hers?" Aunt looked innocent—like Nikolai when she priggs sweets. "Why?"

  Papa put down the black-rock bag he'd been carrying and told Megan to go keep warm until the fire was going, so she went and pulled the doors closed so Aunt wouldn't see Rilla. She put her eye to the crack between the doors.

  Lixand got his sister sitting, with a chai cup in her hand instead of a bottle of wine.

  " 'ny beer li’l brother?"

  "No, Marte. We can't afford luxuries and won't drink the lamp alcohol." He struck a match to the kindling, stilling the shaking in his hands, the anger in his voice.

  Quietly, reasonably, Lixand explained now bad she was being, telling her that she was worse than a snake for hitting children, telling her she'd lose her business. She laughed at that but looked a little sick. "And Rilla is going to stay here, for all we can't afford to keep another child, until you are dry enough to be a decent person, much less a decent mother."

 

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