by T J Muir
She helped herself to a slice of ham, not expecting a response. Diya continued speaking into the silence, determined to remain cordial. “I had a most unusual encounter this afternoon. Someone showed up out of nowhere looking for Benua.”
“That was his cousin. Zaylin,” Pasha said without looking up. “A decent guy. You got them both into trouble.”
I got them into trouble? “I was only trying to protect Tilly from a stranger.”
“Zaylin isn’t a stranger!”
“Well, I didn’t know that, especially because of the way he was carrying on, drunk and shouting.”
“He would have been fine if you hadn’t mucked things up!”
She looked over to see Tilly wrestling with her ham, trying to cut it unsuccessfully several times and then picking it up with her fingers.
“Here, let me help with that,” Diya said, grateful for a chance to change the subject.
Before she was halfway out of her seat, Esha stood up and went to Tilly's side, standing between Diya and her youngest charge. “Here, Tills. Like this,” she said, showing her how to use the fork and knife as she cut the meat into bite sized pieces. When she was done, she put her hand on Tilly's head, kissed her forehead and then glared over her shoulder at Diya.
Even before they got to the hot apple crisp with fresh whipped cream, Tilly's head was nodding.
Diya pushed her plate back and turned towards the youngest child. “Tilly, it looks like it's time for bed for you. Let's take you upstairs and get you tucked in for the night.” Tilly looked up as she stiffened, eyes wide, and then looked over to the twins. Even without words, the meaning was clear.
Diya stood her ground. “It's okay. I can bring you up to bed. We’ll get you washed up and tucked in, all snug for the night.”
In response, Tilly's eyes welled up and her lower lip trembled, cheeks puffing out.
Esha jumped up, going to her sister's rescue. Pasha was a half-step behind her.
Pasha looked Diya up and down, frowning. “She doesn't know you.” Then he turned to his little sister and wrapped an arm around her, helping her up. “Come on Tills, let's go read a story.” As he spoke, he turned around so that Tilly could climb onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Diya didn't argue, realizing she would have been at a loss with putting Tilly to bed after a stressful afternoon. She didn't like how the day was ending. This was not the mood she wanted to set for dealing with the twins in particular. Tilly would probably come around on her own, being so young, but the older pair had already made up their minds. They hated her. She stared at the table, noticing that neither of them had eaten their dessert. She picked up the two dishes and headed to the kitchen.
Korina was cleaning up the last of the cooking. She could hear the sound of water running, and she wondered if that meant that Letta would be in to wash up.
Korina looked up, surprised, seeing the plates in Diya's hands. “Ye h'aint got to be clearin the dinner. Letta's on hand for that.” Korina sounded a bit shocked.
Diya looked down at the two servings of apple crisp, the cream had melted now. “What? No. I was just wondering if there might be some fresh iced cream or perhaps some chocolates to add to the plates. It's for the twins.”
Korina's head tilted and her eyes narrowed. “You're – what?”
“The twins took Tilly up to bed and didn't get their desert. I thought it would be a nice gesture to bring something up to them.”
Korina frowned, eyes still suspicious. Diya couldn't tell, but she disappeared into the pantry. After a moment of rustling, she returned with a small plate.
“What is this?” Diya asked, looking down at golden brown chunks.
“Maple candy,” Korina said.
“Candy?”
“From the maple trees,” Korina said.
“Candy from trees?”
“From maple sap. Yes. Try one. They're quite good.”
Diya wasn't sure she believed it but took one and nibbled at the corner. It was a bit like fudge in texture but delectable. She smiled as the rich flavour spread across her mouth.
“Did you make these yourself?”
Shaking her head, Korina said, “Baker down in the village made these.”
“They're perfect. Thank you.”
Korina nodded and looked at her sideways. Then she grunted and turned her attention back to closing up the kitchen for the night.
Diya headed up the stairs.
When she got to the top landing she stopped, transfixed. The globes were barely larger than a duck egg but they cast a beautiful silvery blue light that reminded her of Breshan. The walls were painted in scarlet and gold that now shimmered faintly, turning the hallways into a magical path. She wondered if the globes lit up on their own or if someone had to make them work. Oh, Jedda would have loved to have seen this. She headed down the hallway to the children's wing. She could hear low voices coming from Tilly's room and decided not to disturb them. Instead, she left the two dishes on the floor next to each of the twin’s bedrooms and then went back downstairs.
When she got back to the study, she was glad that the plates had not been cleared yet. Diya had some time to herself— finally. How could looking after a small child be this tiring? Hot tea or brandy? Unable to decide she compromised, pouring a healthy slosh of brandy into her teacup and adding a touch of honey to sweeten it. Then she dug into the apple crisp. Before long she heard noise coming from the kitchen, probably Letta. It was time to make her exit, she decided. Then she headed upstairs, wanting nothing more than a warm bed and pillow and hoping the fire in her room would be lit.
Even having seen them just a little while before, the lights in the hallway still took her by surprise. Tea in hand, she looked around amazed.
“You act like you've never seen them before.”
Diya jumped, letting out a startled gasp and spun around. Pasha leaned against the balustrade, popping maple candy into his mouth.
“Well, in the south,” she said, catching herself from saying Tatak Rhe, “there really isn't much magic. There are some very old things. Glamours, I suppose, that can make hedges seem to move, but no. I don't know of anyone that has anything like these. Also, it gets dark so early here. Back home it would still be light, almost until the Nibbin's third setting.”
Pasha sniffed with a look of disdain and a hint of pride. “These? They're baby things, but they can't do any harm if there are surges.”
“Surges?”
Pasha rolled his eyes. “Magic surges.”
“Sorry. That doesn't mean anything to me.”
Again with that look. “Don't you know anything?”
“I know lots of things, thank you, but no, I know nothing about magic. There is no magic in —the southern regions.” She had been so annoyed by his surly tone that Tatak Rhe had almost slipped out.
Pasha's face wrinkled showing confusion mixed with disbelief. “None?”
Diya shook her head. “None, just remnants, like what I said.”
“Don't you have any yfa chirrik? Yfa chirra?”
It was her turn to be confused. Why was Pasha asking about the shells?
“Well, yes, but those just regulate water, for crops, the canals and things.”
His wrinkled confusion became outright disbelief now. “That makes no sense at all.”
Diya kept her attention focused on Pasha but kept looking over at the globes.
“Dyajan.”
“What?”
“That's what they're called. Dyaja, dyajan.”
“Oh. How do you work them?”
Pasha perked up and stood taller, in his showmanship pose. He waved a hand, “Keretsin.”
Even knowing what was about to happen, Diya gasped in surprise and delight as he turned them on and off. “Just like that,” she said, marveling.
“Yep. Just. Like. That.” He snapped his fingers. “Why don't you try?”
Why was he asking her to try? Was he just trying to make her look foolish-agai
n. “I couldn't. I can't do magic. I couldn't possibly do magic.” The idea threw her off balance. Why would he think that she would have any ability? She didn’t know anyone who did magic. She remembered one or two friends in school, but she had thought they were strange. They had kept to themselves, as though it were a secret club.
Pasha was staring at her. “Why not?”
“I— umm— I wouldn't even know how.” she said. She knew nothing about it. What if it was dangerous? How did it even work?
Whatever she felt, her blustering reaction was amusing Pasha immensely. He just laughed, shaking his head. With a shrug, he walked off, no longer interested.
Diya stared at his retreating back and tried to remember herself at his age. She remembered that she didn’t like adults treating her like a child. Once he was gone, she turned back and watched the dyaja. Why had Pasha goaded her about them? She glanced nervously down the hallway to see if he was watching her, and then she walked closer to one of the small globes.
“Keretsin,” she whispered. Even though she had just watched Pasha turn the light on and off, she still jumped when the light blinked out. Her heart raced with a mixture of fear and wonder. Overcoming her initial anxiety, she spent a while turning the dyaja on and off. It was much easier than she expected and she was fascinated by the lights blinking on and off. Was it this easy to do magic? For a moment, she forgot how much she hated being stuck in this remote country manor.
CHAPTER Nine
The next morning, Diya found Tilly upstairs in the hallway, staring out the window. The girl was in mismatched clothes again but at least her hair had been brushed and braided. Diya could tell that Tilly was thinking about going outside. She repressed a shudder. Looking through the window at the stark landscape, she had no interest in trudging around after the girl. It looked dreary, and despite the slight warmth in the sunlight, she knew it was cold and miserable on the other side of the glass.
“How about we find a story to read?” Diya asked, knowing Tilly liked being read to.
Tilly headed down the hallway and went straight to the library. She stopped and stared at the books, finger in her mouth. Then she pulled one down and carried it over to the window. She proceeded to climb up onto the wide window seat and place the book down in the middle. Without saying a word, Tilly had given Diya permission to sit on the far side of the seat and read the story.
The book Tilly had picked was about a family of mice that lived in a castle’s walls. Diya remembered it from when she was a child. There were at least ten books that followed the adventures of the mouse family: Uncle Grouse Mouse, their arch nemesis, CAT, a dog named bandit who liked to see the cat get in trouble. Halfway through the second chapter, Tilly pulled the book out of Diya’s hands and closed it.
“Don’t you want to find out what happens to grouse mouse?” Diya asked, but Tilly was already marching out the door and down the hallway. Worry about Tilly climbing out on the roof sent her chasing after the girl. She found Tilly on the floor in the mudroom, pulling on her boots.
“Wait, it’s much too cold to go outside. How about we get something hot to drink and a few cookies?”
In response, Tilly stood up and pulled her coat down from the peg. Her jacket dragging behind her in one hand, she pulled the door open with her other hand and marched outside without waiting for Diya.
“By the nine hells!” Diya swore, stopping long enough to put on her own boots. She wasn’t dressed to go outside. She looked out the window. Maybe Tilly was just outside the door, and she could watch her from inside. Unfortunately, Tilly was making a beeline for the lane. Diya cursed again, grabbing her own coat and dashing out after Tilly who was already halfway across the yard and heading towards the barn. Chak and Ben were working on a piece of farm equipment but Diya had no idea what it was. They looked up, waved at Tilly and then went back to whatever it was they were doing.
“What’s that?” Diya asked, trying to be polite.
“Fence posts for the lower fields, and Uncle Chak is working on the thresher.”
Diya had no idea what a thresher was and didn’t care. She was just grateful to have a legitimate excuse to escape. “Oh. I’d better go catch up to Tilly.”
“Oh, she’s prolly feedin Pasha’s critters.”
“Critters?”
Chak looked up. “Mmmmm. Boy’s got a right good hand with em.”
Diya wasn’t sure what ‘em’ were, but she had a vision of Tilly walking into a cage with a bear. She hurried off to find her small charge.
Diya caught up with Tilly as she rounded the corner of the barn and headed into a small outbuilding. On the far side of the building, she was hit by a gust of wind that went right through all three layers. She was sure she would die of some horrid disease or cold from being out in the harsh weather, but there was no way she could leave a young girl unsupervised and wandering around outside.
Marrying Hak’ket was beginning to feel like a better solution than hiding in this dreary godforsaken hell, looking after such wretched children.
I hate this place. I hate the cold! I hate everything about this. For the love of all the gods, please Jay, come and find me! Tilly was pulling bits of bread out of her pockets and feeding them to a spotted silver creature that looked like a cross between a cat and a fox.
All the animals chittered in their cages as soon as Tilly started feeding them. The girl made sure every animal got a treat. Tilly went from cage to cage, feeding a possum, a half dozen rabbits, a red fox with a banded tail, a hawk and an owl in adjoining cages and an otter. Diya wondered where Pasha kept his snake since it was probably too cold for it to be outdoors without hibernating.
“What are you doing here?” Pasha asked from behind her, acting as though he had just caught a thief breaking into the house.
Diya jumped, surprised. She hadn’t heard him walking up. She spun around to face him and saw Esha was there as well. “Excuse me?” she asked, indignant.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated, slower this time, his hands on his hips with his fists balled up.
“I’m watching Tilly,” she said, silently daring the boy to challenge her. “That is my job, isn’t it? She came down here on her own and I followed her to make sure she was safe.” The whole time she spoke, she held eye contact with Pasha and she kept it even after she finished speaking.
His jaw tightened and his lips pursed, but after a moment he shrugged and looked away. Then he turned to Esha, dismissing Diya completely. “See, it’s this upper corner here, I think.” As he spoke, they turned toward the otter’s cage.
Diya watched them for a moment, feeling uncomfortable but refusing to back down, until an owl hooted in the distance. She turned to see where the sound was coming from but couldn’t see anything. She did notice a pair of rough hewn pillars with carvings of the world tree on each. A wide path appeared between the gates, but she couldn’t see anything through the yew bushes. She looked over at the twins and decided to investigate.
“What’s over there?” she asked Tilly and walked towards the pillars, slow enough for Tilly to catch up. The path led away from the barns and toward a small grove, partway up the slope behind the other outbuildings.
She followed the crushed stone path to the family’s ancestral shrine. Large hedges and evergreens formed a large circle, with ten pillars standing for each of the months of the year. The ground was laid out in the sacred spiral. In each of the four directions was an altar to one of the four elements.
She stopped suddenly, thinking that someone was in the garden, but It was just a statue of a shepherdess with a goat on one side and a sheep on the other. In her hands, she was holding an apple. The statue was set close to the earth so Diya knew that whoever it was, it had to be a lesser deity or nature spirit. This must have been made specifically for the family, to bring abundance to their homestead. At the base, Diya noticed the remains of numerous offerings.
Windchimes, feathers knotted on long cords and a wind harp lay on the east side. Th
e southern altar had a flame burning. Diya knew these were kept burning perpetually with a reserve well that fed the wick.
On the northern side was a water garden. The altar was built into the front of the little pond. Along the sides, stone and bronze faeries played in the water, splashing each other or pouring water in to replenish the sacred source. The back of the altar was a rockface framing the mouth of a miniature cave. The opening was the symbolic entry to the underworld. This was a place to make offerings to the ancestors or ask for guidance from them. Spring water or wine would be poured into the mouth of the cave, which led down to the underworld.
She knew all ancestors were connected through the lya chiqui, the invisible river of all creation. So Diya picked up the bottle and pulled off the stopper. She held the bottle close to her head but couldn’t form an appropriate prayer, so she held it quietly for a moment and then poured some liquid into the downspout. She asked for protection for her family and a solution to her situation. Then she asked the spirits to keep Jay safe and to bring him back to her.
Having performed similar rituals many times, Diya wasn’t expecting anything to happen. But a tiny light flickered and then grew larger. The cave opening began to glow, shimmering lights grew brighter as if they were rising up to the surface. The light expanded, filling the entire altar.
Her stomach twisted and her mouth went dry. The wind harp rustled and began playing, an eerie sound filling the air. She had grown up paying regular devotions to the gods. But she had never heard or seen a response. Her heart raced and she panicked, watching the light grow brighter and rise up from the recess in the fountain. Then an owl broke through the branches and swooped down, flying right past her face.
She threw up her hands, trying to protect herself and screamed. Without waiting to see what might happen next, she spun around and raced to the center altar where Tilly was climbing.
Esha and Pasha came running up. “What in the nine hells just happened?” Pasha shouted.
“I don’t know!” she said, more terrified now than when it had been happening. “I just made an offering at the shrine, and then-- it just glowed, blinding light and the chimes all played. Then an owl attacked me!”