by Colt, K. J.
‘Boiled water,’ Mother responded curtly.
The mayor laughed. ‘Did she also burn her tongue that you need to keep answering for her?’
The flowery smell grew stronger. ‘Your great great aunt was a healer, wasn’t she?’ Healer Euka was addressing Mother.
‘I believe so. But I am barren.’
The chatter in the room increased. ‘Dead bloodline,’ someone said. ‘…piss off,’ came another.
Mrs. Moferbury had told me the healers used to heal Senyans for free until the plague struck. She didn’t tell me much more than that, except that many of the bloodlines had died out and that most of the rest had gone to Meligna to live.
‘And where does your mother live, Adenine?’
I decided to lie, even though I knew it was bad. ‘Phrest. I’m visiting her this summer.’ Phrest was the only other town I knew besides Juxon City and the trader town of Old Bow. Well, and Meligna, the northern city of the Queens, but if I’d said that, there would be trouble.
‘A little fishing community, excellent,’ the mayor said. ‘And do you like Borrelia or Phrest more?’
‘Borrelia,’ I said, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest.
‘And she’s considering living here with me now,’ Mother added.
‘How old were you when your eyes were burned, Adenine?’ Healer Euka asked.
I didn’t know what to say.
‘She was ten,’ Mother said.
‘Oh,’ Healer Euka replied. ‘And do you remember what colour your eyes were, child?’
I hesitated. I’d never seen my eyes before so I didn’t know. One day, I had asked Mama, and she’d told me that my eyes were the same colour as hers and Father’s: brown. Father’s eyes had been a lighter brown than Mother’s. I remembered how they smiled when he joked with me, and how they glowed when I pleased him.
‘Yes,’ I said, suddenly feeling sad at his memory.
‘What colour was that?’
‘Brown,’ I said, and over the sounds of people murmuring, I heard Mother exhale with relief.
‘What a beautiful colour, definitely that of a citizen of Senya. Tell me, were they more amber than brown?’
‘Mayor Vawdon, you must be so busy,’ Mother said nervously. ‘As you can see, this is an important day for me.’
‘Let the girl answer the question,’ Healer Euka said as if she were the mayor.
A man harrumphed to my left, obviously upset that a foreigner was taking charge.
‘Why don’t you go home, witch?’ someone said out the corner of the mouth, and others grunted in agreement.
‘They were mud-coloured,’ I answered quickly, trying to make Healer Euka leave.
‘Stop harassing the poor girl,’ an elderly voice croaked.
‘Go home, whore!’
‘Silence,’ the mayor ordered, but more voices raised against him, and I heard the sound of metal boots and unsheathing swords fill the room. People gasped and quietened.
‘It’s time to leave,’ the mayor said. ‘I’m happy to have met you, Adenine. I hope you will enjoy it here in Borrelia. Good luck with your sales, Capacia, and good day to you both.’
‘Good day,’ Mother said.
When the mayor and Healer Euka had gone, Mother wheeled her chair over and hugged me tightly. ‘Good girl.’
Jemely rushed around the store, gathering the requested objects, trinkets, and silks. Outside, men brought carts to take away some of the bigger purchases. The constant sound of coins clinking against each other was music to my ears. Eventually, the only items left in the shop were a few sticks of incense and a strange frog statue. Or so Jemely said.
News of Mother’s generosity spread like wildfire. People travelled to our house to bring gifts of food and fermented drinks. Little did they know that Mother’s generosity had been a desperate move to save Mystoria. But their gifts were also a way to help alleviate Mother’s suffering, as some wise stranger pointed out that nobody in her right mind would sell their goods at half price, so her struggles must have been plenty.
The town changed that day, or at least my thoughts about the town had. Mother had shown me that people were only afraid of what they didn’t know or understand, and with her clever plan, she’d turned their fear into acceptance.
That evening, when the crickets chirped and the street torches had been lit, Jemely, Varago, Krejald the woodworker, and I had a celebratory feast. Mother gossiped with a lightness so sweet it was as if she would float out of her chair and hover against the ceiling. We wore our victory like a king wears his crown.
For supper, we ate the most expensive beef and honey-covered vegetables. We had spiced pudding with sugared cream for dessert, a dish so sweet it made my teeth ache. To finish, we drank a sweet sherry.
It was the first time I had been allowed such strong fermented drink, and it made me dizzy and dulled my thoughts. After dinner, Mother sang us a song. Her voice was as beautiful as ever, and the success of the day was reflected in the melody’s tune. I knew the song well, a tune for happy times, a time long before my father’s death.
‘What are you planning to sell now, Capacia?’ Krejald asked.
‘Housewares, cloth, spices—I’ll still import, but will place a greater focus on more local products. It’ll be a humble living, but we’ll survive. Adenine and I have each other… oh, and Butter, of course.’ She laughed.
Butter was asleep on my lap, and I stroked his fur. His back legs were stretched out to the side, his head slumped over my knees, and I was sure that one more week would see him too big for my legs to support him.
‘Adenine,’ Mother said. ‘Varago and I have been talking. We’d like you to start school for three days a week. Jemely has offered to help me with the store on the days you’re absent, and Varago says he can spare her.’
‘I can certainly spare that sharp tongue of hers,’ Varago added.
‘I’m right here, thank you,’ Jemely said, and everyone laughed.
I didn’t understand why she wanted to get rid of me. Now that she had money, and Jemely wanted to work for us more, she didn’t need me anymore. I jumped to my feet. My chair fell back against the ground with a loud thump and Butter dropped to the floor.
‘I don’t want to go to school.’ My words killed all other conversation. I wanted to be a merchant and travel and trade. Father had made me promise to take care of Mother, and I wouldn’t betray his memory. Plus, a part of me was scared to go to school.
‘Why not?’ Mother asked, taking my hand.
I didn’t understand why I was so angry. Didn’t she want me near?
The silence in the room became heavy, and I was embarrassed by how strongly I felt, for the tears that trickled down my face, and the ungratefulness of my words. ‘I-I just don’t want to.’
Butter pawed at my leg, and I picked him up. I held him against my face, half shielding myself from the room. Fear rattled me. What if I couldn’t make friends? What if people laughed at my blindness, or hated me for what Ardonian, my father, had done? Mrs. Moferbury had said children were the meanest of all people, and that if they saw the scars on my eyes, or my tears, they’d bully me.
‘Adenine, you need your head on right,’ Varago said. ‘You need smarts like me. That’s why I went to school.’
‘No. I like helping with Mystoria. That’s all I want.’ Also, running Mystoria used my strengths with counting, and memorising the use and origin of unusual wares.
Mother laughed. ‘Merchants are cunning because they possess knowledge of the world, Adenine. You won’t get that sitting around here all day.’
‘I thought you would be pleased,’ Varago added. ‘You’ve got such a curious mind.’
‘I can’t read or write. I’m blind. I only know how to get around the market square. I’ve never even seen the school.’ Heat had crawled up from my chest and tightened my throat, as if to choke me.
Krejald said, ‘I think I better go.’
‘I’ll walk you down,’ Jemely offered.
Mother and I waited for them to leave before resuming our argument.
‘It’s too dangerous to send you to Juxon City for a proper education, so here will have to do,’ Mother said.
Juxon City. So far away. She’d spent so much time telling me that the world was a bad place, and that I would be in danger, yet she’d invited people into our store to meet me, and now wanted me to go to school.
‘The teachers will help you,’ Varago added.
I didn’t understand why I wasn’t given a choice. They didn’t care what I wanted. Their minds were already made up. I put Butter on the ground and stepped sideways to leave, but accidentally stepped on Butter’s paw. He yelped, making me hate myself and them even more. I burst into sobs and ran to the attic stairs, which I tripped over in my hurried state. At the top, I slammed the door and threw myself onto the bed and bawled my eyes out.
Sometime later, there was a gentle tapping on my door. I ignored it. My throat was sore, and my face felt like puffed pastry. The door creaked open, as did the floorboards as someone made their way to me. I cried harder, trying to make whoever was coming feel sorry for me.
‘Hush, Adenine. Life has been hard for you,’ Varago said.
‘You’re not my father. Don’t speak to me like you could be.’
I felt guilty for the bad words coming out of my mouth. Varago had only ever tried to help me, and there I was, being ungrateful and nasty. The bad part of me pushed him away. It wanted to push everyone away. No one saw me as capable of thinking for myself. They saw a fatherless, blind little girl, and I let them treat me that way.
‘I may not be your father, but I have known your mother since she was young. She loves you above everything, and so she should. You’re a wonderful girl with a big and brave heart.’
‘Then why did she let my uncle…?’
‘Why did she let your uncle die? You were close to him, weren’t you?’
I instantly regretted raising the topic as the guilt of my uncle’s death hit me. I couldn’t speak about him in a bad way, in a nasty way, because I had deserved it. I had been too close to him. Far too close. ‘My father killed my uncle because of me.’
‘See, that’s not true. What your uncle did was wrong.’
My stomach knotted. Varago and Mother had already been talking about it. I didn’t understand why he’d wanted to hurt me, and for Varago to tell me what he did was wrong then he must know. Mother had confided in him before me and in doing so she’d betrayed me. It was my secret, my shame, and I desereved to know before him. The rage in my head spread to my body. I wanted to hit Varago for stealing Mother away from me. It was a powerful desire. It made me feel good and strong, as if I were made from stone or wore hardened armour. ‘Go away!’
‘Varago? Are you all right?’ Mother yelled up the stairway.
‘Stay downstairs, Capacia.’
Yes, stay downstairs, I thought bitterly. And he could join her, too. They could all leave me alone.
‘It’s not my business, Adenine. But it’s time someone told you that what your uncle did was wrong, and I swear to you I will never let anyone do that to you again. That’s why your mother kept you away from the world, to protect you from desperate men like your Uncle Garrad who might hurt you.’
‘Are you going to tell me why he wanted to hurt me?’
Varago didn’t answer, instead, he put his arm around me. I stiffened and then shoved him away and shuffled back against the bed.
‘If you’re not going to tell me, then go away.’
‘It’s a matter better explained by your mother. Trust that your mother has only ever protected you. The same was true of your father.’
‘It doesn’t change how I feel.’
‘Avoiding the world won’t change your feelings either. Don’t you want to learn? Your mother has taken great pains to ensure you’ll be safe at school, and she has a secret stash of books that she kept for you. Jemely can read them to you. Don’t you want to know why thunder booms, or why rivers all seem to run in the same direction, or how leeches can take away fever?’
‘Mrs. Moferbury already taught me about leeches.’
‘But not about the weather. Or the ocean tides, or the buoyancy of boats. The world is astounding and miraculous in its wonders, and once you’ve had a taste, you’ll never be satisfied. I know your type.’
‘The other children won’t like me.’
‘Like you…so that’s it, is it? Tell me one person who doesn’t like you.’
Jemely had been mean to me at first, but I’d soon learned that her blunt opinions were more mischief than malice. ‘When Mother couldn’t get out of bed and I was looking for you, people whispered nasty things about me. Some still say those things.’
‘Silly, spiteful hoof-heads are everywhere. Even I have enemies, but the people who matter are those who hug you when you’re sad, and make you laugh when you’re angry. They’ll always forgive your mistakes. And when you look in a mirror and only see ugliness, they’ll remind you that you’re beautiful.’
I found my simmering anger fading away. Varago had never given me so many compliments. ‘You mean that? Do you think I’m pretty?’ In books, princesses were always pretty, and they always found love and lived in big homes with cooks and servants.
He tapped the top of my head. ‘Silly mouse. Of course you’re pretty. Do you know why bears are so fierce?’
I shook my head.
‘They have a tough hide. An arrow that can bring down a wolf merely bounces off a bear’s hide. Think of your heart like a bear pelt. Make it tough, and impenetrable.’ I felt the bed jolt and a slight breeze as Varago explained this to me, and I imagined him like a bard, flailing his hands in a dramatic manner. ‘Think of arrows as nasty words. Now, when someone fires an arrow at you, mimic a bear. Stand up tall and proud and don’t let that nasty arrow hurt you.’
‘But bears attack people, don’t they?’
‘Oh dearie me. Good point.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘Well, you’re not exactly a bear, are you? You don’t need to attack because you’re a person. Bears can’t control their anger, but you can.’
‘Father couldn’t,’ I said.
Varago went silent. ‘I suppose some people are more like bears than others. Just because your father lashed out doesn’t mean you have to.’
A part of me wanted to defend Father, to remind Varago he murdered out of love, but I also knew that what Father did was wrong. ‘Varago, what do you do when someone shoots you with an arrow?’
‘I think of it like a mosquito bite. Annoying, but I can ignore it if I make an effort. It’s futile to try and control what other people think, so I say nothing.’
I was good at being quiet, and invisible. Saying nothing in the face of arrows would be easy.
‘Give school a try. Keep this secret, but the headmaster recently had a very bad case of itchy bottom worms.’
‘Eww,’ I exclaimed.
He chuckled. ‘Knowledge is power. I think I can persuade him to let you bring Butter to classes.’
That excited me. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
I’d feel less nervous if I had Butter to lick my hands and sit against my leg.
‘If you’re going to school tomorrow, then you should sleep now.’
I was tired, but even my fatigue didn’t stop me from being cautious about Varago being in my room at sleep time. I hesitated before I snuggled down into bed.
‘All right, I’ll let your mother know you’ve agreed to school, and I’ll get Butter up here.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
He patted my head and I let him.
‘You’re a good girl. Now off to the lands of fairies and wizards,’ he said in a dramatic voice before going to my doorway. ‘Butter! Come on, Butter. Come up here.’
He clapped his hands, and then I heard my puppy’s pads on the floor. When he scratched at the bed’s iron base, I leaned over and pulled him up beside me. He licked my hand and then settled down
alongside me. I could feel his body heat through the blanket.
‘Jemely will take you to school tomorrow,’ Varago said. ‘Oh, and she wanted me to tell you that she’s going to talk to Klawdia tomorrow about Butter’s training.’
‘Goodnight,’ I said, suddenly overwhelmed by all the uncertainties and possibilities of the future.
‘Pleasant dreams, Adenine.’ And he closed the door.
I lay awake thinking for some time about school and the shop. Maybe Mother would be more proud of me if I could tell her interesting things I’d learned at school. While I was still angry that Mother had told Varago about my uncle attacking me, I did believe that she was trying to protect me. Maybe by going to school and becoming smarter, I could make her love me more than ever.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MOTHER AND JEMELY MET ME in the kitchen the following morning.
‘Fair morning to you, my tattered flower,’ Mother said in an amused tone as I drowsily descended the last of the attic stairs.
Jemely laughed. ‘Did a bird nest in your hair overnight?’
I reached up and felt that my hair was like a messy ball of yarn.
‘Jemely is walking you to the east side of town,’ Mother said. ‘Varago and Jemely will meet you at half after noon when school is over. Aren’t we lucky to have such attentive friends?’
‘Varago said I could take Butter with me.’
‘Did he?’ Mother asked. ‘Let’s keep Butter here for today. You’ll take him when he’s been trained a bit.’
‘But he’ll get bored, and what if he runs off? It’s not like you can catch him in that chair.’ I slumped down at the table.
‘I’ll take care of him,’ Jemely offered.
‘Thank you, Jemely,’ Mother said.
I wasn’t satisfied. Butter would worry about me, and if he went searching for me, he might get lost in the town, or worse, wander into the woods. What if Klawdia, or any hunter, mistook him for a snow wolf?
Jemely’s mood darkened upon discovering the dirty dishes from the night before. ‘I’ve become your servant, haven’t I? Didn’t want to become a maid, I didn’t, and now Varago can get along just fine on his own, he says.’