by T J Muir
She expected the twins to laugh at her but she saw that they were looking over at the water shrine, which was still glowing faintly. They looked more than a little worried, and whispered to each other. “Well, that’s never happened before,” Esha said.
Had they done this? Was this some kind of magic prank they were playing on her? She doubted if they would admit it, so didn’t bother asking. It seemed like it was exactly the kind of thing Pasha would try.
She grabbed Tilly’s hand, not caring if the girl had a meltdown or threw a tantrum. “Come on! We need to go. Now!” she said, dragging Tilly behind her. Then she looked over at the twins. “Time for dinner,” she said. “Let’s get back to the house.” She wasn’t sure what had happened but decided it might be best if she avoided the shrine completely.
CHAPTER Ten
Something soft nuzzled her neck. She smiled in her half-dream, imagining Jay. The sweet pleasure turned into a moment of panic. Abruptly she sat up, flinging the covers back to find an otter chittering next to her. Her sudden reaction sent it into a panic and it scrambled across the bed to the bed stand. Then it bounced across the open space and landed on her vanity where it tore through her brushes, jewelry and makeup, knocking books to the floor as it raced around. It took refuge under her bed.
She bent over, trying to coax it out, sure she heard laughter coming from outside the door. “Very funny,” she called out. She heard the sound of feet running down the hallway. “Hey!” she shouted. “Come get your rat!” But it was too late and they were already gone. Likely, they would try to pretend they had no idea about the otter getting loose.
She was not going to give the twins the satisfaction of getting angry. Instead she opened the door wide and moved her bed. As soon as it’s hiding place was gone, the otter streaked across the room and dashed out the door. Hopefully it would find its way to Pasha's room unless the twins were waiting down the hall to retrieve it. Wherever it went, any damage it did would be on Pasha’s head, and she decided he would deserve any punishment he ended up with.
After she got dressed she headed down the hall of the children's wing, looking for the otter anyway. She went into the playroom, poking around. The entire room was a shambles. Toys and half-completed projects were scattered all over their table, a handful of games were strewn around the floor including Pasha's broken kite. It seemed like the books had a particular dislike of the shelves and preferred to lie scattered about the floor. She sighed. How had the room become such a mess? Someone really needed to clean up. Then she stopped. Oh. Letta did the general house chores. Diya was the nursemaid. This was the children’s mess. Her mess.
She dug in and started with the table, tossing a handful of jackets, sweaters and socks over by the door. She decided that she would just clean up the worst of it and only put things away if she knew where they went. There was nothing more annoying than having personal belongings suddenly relocated and she knew it would not win the twins’ friendship. While she was picking up the pieces of a puzzle, Tilly came in, resting her chin on the back of a chair and watching.
“Well good morning,” Diya said, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt. “Want to help?”
Tilly blinked in response.
“What if you pick up all the books? Can you put them back in the bookcase for me?”
Tilly stood there for a moment and rubbed her nose.
“I really want to get them back on the shelves but I don’t know where they go. I’ll bet you probably know, don’t you?” Diya turned back to the clutter on the table, humming Takkara's Last Battle to herself but she hummed loud enough for Tilly to hear. When she looked over her shoulder, she noticed that Tilly was marching around the room, rounding up all of the books and putting them on the shelves.
“Okay, I think that's better,” Diya said, looking around the room. She could walk from one side to the other without tripping over anything. “Let's see how you did with the books,” she said, looking down at Tilly.
What she found surprised her. Not only had Tilly collected all the books but she had separated out the ones that were Esha's from those that were Pasha's- each put on separate shelves. Well, Diya reasoned, that wasn't too surprising. “Well, look at that,” Diya exclaimed. “You've got them all arranged alphabetically. Aren't you a clever girl!”
In response to that praise, Tilly stepped forward to straighten one of the books.
“I'd say that deserves some breakfast, don't you? How about some hot oatmeal with nuts and some dried cherries?” Diya knew that was one of Tilly’s favorite breakfasts. Korina usually put out breakfast for them, leaving it next to the fireplace where the tea pot was kept. Diya guessed that the heat from the fire must be channeled through the stonework somehow. She didn’t give it much thought and was just grateful that breakfast was waiting for them and that the tea was hot.
By the time she got breakfast for the two of them and went outside, the sun was feeling comfortably warm. She poured a second cup of mint tea for herself and for Tilly, then leaned back, relaxing. She was adjusting to the lazy routines of the country. She cupped the hot mug between her hands and looked around at the hints of spring that were emerging. Tiny splashes of green were beginning to appear. The morning mist was dissipating, and the air felt warmer.
This country estate reminded her of her family’s summer villa but colder and if she just replaced the olive groves and grapes from their lands with apples, cherries and nuts including more color. She missed the bright colors of home and the birds! She realized she hadn’t heard any birds singing since she had arrived. Where were all the birds? She sighed. The birds had migrated for the winter. She knew that. Clearly they were smart enough to avoid the cold.
As if she had an inner clock, Tilly finished her tea, hopped down from her chair and disappeared into the house. Diya nodded, knowing it was about the time that Tilly would spend with Jinna.
Diya stretched, enjoying a sweet roll outside in the late morning sun. She looked out over the sloping property. Unlike the southern region, Dunwood wouldn’t have the summer heat either. How warm would it get? Hopefully she would be able to shed the layers of clothing that made the twins roll their eyes and laugh.
Should I go look for the otter? No. Whatever happened next with the escaped miscreant was on Pasha's head. She considered going for a walk but the grass still looked wet, and her boots wouldn’t stay dry. She looked around, realizing she had nothing to do. Nothing. No one to socialize with and no shops to visit. No city to serve as a daily distraction. Maybe I’ll write a letter. Then she realized she couldn’t send it anyway. Maybe there was a lap harp tucked away in the library or maybe a sinnik. She had loved playing the mysterious instrument when she was younger. Ten bamboo rods were set into the base, each rod had a unique pitch. It would be nice to have some music to fill the quiet but she didn’t have any real talent for an instrument She had learned enough so she could play well enough without embarrassing herself.
She looked back out over the orchards below. The dusty dark evergreens were in the background. Against the lighter shades of apple leaves, tiny hints of yellow-green buds were visible on the branches. Landscapes had never been her best artwork, but for the first time in years, her artist’s eye watched. Diya ducked back into the house almost running into Letta. The girl scowled at Diya and brushed past her.
Miserable wretch! After nosing around in the children’s playroom, Diya grabbed a handful of pencils and drawing paper. Back on the veranda, she forgot about the serving girl and lost herself in sketching.
The paper slowly filled with a sketch of the orchard. With a few eraser-marks, smudges strategically turned into birds. Diya held it at arm’s length and cocked her head, considering. Then she decided. Yes. Clouds and a fox on the ground were sketched into the other small smudges. Given the amount of time it had been since she’d drawn anything, the results satisfied her. Her inner voice sounded like her art teacher though, showing her the flaws. She frowned at the paper and was about to crumple i
t up when she noticed Tilly standing a few feet away, watching.
Diya hoped nothing was wrong with Jinna but Tilly didn't seem distressed, just curious and watching her draw. Her hair was done in two neat braids tied with green ribbons on the ends. She guessed that was her mama’s handiwork.
“Your hair looks very pretty,” Diya said. “Your mama made you look all dressed up.” Diya realized she had no idea how to praise a little girl. Tilly’s hand reached up and fingered the ribbon.
After the silent exchange passed between them, Diya used her foot to push out the chair across from her, close enough for Tilly to watch but not close enough for her to feel threatened. Then Diya took the drawing and set it on the table by the open chair, sliding a pencil across right next to the paper.
She straightened, yawned, sat up and took a fresh piece of paper for herself, beginning a new sketch. Watching from the corner of her eye, Tilly crept around to the table’s far side and slid up onto the chair.
Watching Tilly with deep and curious eyes, Diya remembered Jay when they’d visit the archives. Even though he was never a strong reader, he studied images and maps with the same intensity that she saw in this child who was curious but also guarded. Her friendship had come so easily with Jay.
Diya had no idea how to reach this little girl who was so locked up inside herself.
Part of her knew she was swimming in waters way over her head. Should she just keep up their routine? She hadn’t accomplished anything and was worried that she wasn’t doing the job she had been hired for. She looked over at Tilly, and again she saw that same quiet intelligence. Maybe she could reach the girl, but she had no idea where to begin. So she fell back on what she knew. Art. Diya pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and held it so Tilly could see. She started by drawing a line halfway down the page. At the very top, she wrote the word, cat.
“Watch,” she said, low and matter-of-factly. “I’ll teach you how to draw a cat. Would you like that?”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly as Tilly peered at the blank page.
“First, draw a nice big egg. That will be his body, see?” Quickly glancing up then back on the page, she drew the simple shape. “Then, draw a circle, about here. That will be his head. Add two triangles, here, and here, for his ears. A big S here will become his tail.”
The whole time she kept an eye on Tilly, who was watching her pen intently and leaning forward in the chair for a better look.
Diya then moved over on the page and continued. “Now that we have a shape, we can work with it a little bit more.” And she proceeded to give the cat legs and a face. At the far edge of the page, she made a quick basic sketch that she thought a child could mimic and then slid the paper over to Tilly.
“You can practice copying, underneath.”
Tilly’s hand crept out, and she put her fingers over the corner of the page and drew it over to herself. Then she turned and hunched over the page, shielding her work from view. Diya nodded to herself and took out two more sheets, one for a dog and one for a bunny. Now that she’d seen the explanation, she didn’t think Tilly needed to hear the step by step instructions again. While she sketched out the additional pages, she kept one eye on Tilly's hunched form. A few moments later, Tilly straightened up. Without looking at Diya, she had shifted herself so that Diya could see her drawing,
It was Shady, the cat from the kitchens. Diya was genuinely surprised by the level of detail and accuracy Tilly had managed. The cat had whiskers in their proper place and a mouth. The basic drawing mimicked what Diya had demonstrated but the spot on the top of the head was undeniably Shady.
“That's very impressive!” Diya said, without attempting to touch the paper. “You are extremely good at art and have an excellent eye.”
In response, Tilly tucked her chin slightly and looked down at her picture. Was it Diya's imagination or did she see a tiny glimmer of pride in Tilly's face? Watching the girl, Diya wondered if maybe Tilly would benefit from some actual schooling. Perhaps she could talk with Hadrin about it. As much as she loathed the man, she didn't want to tax Jinna with unnecessary visits that might tire her out.
She looked up and noticed the Nibbin had already risen, on its second pass of the day. The twins would be wrapping up their lessons so she decided it was as good a time as any to talk with the tutor. “I'm going to go inside for a moment,” she told Tilly. “If you like, you can stay here and keep working on these other sheets.” She nudged the other pages across the table as she spoke. Tilly reached out, drawing them over to her. “Okay. So you stay here and I'll be back in a few moments,” but Tilly's head was already bent over her work. Diya didn't expect a response so she headed around to the front of the house.
When she saw Esha go flying out the door, Diya knew Pasha and Hadrin wouldn't be far behind but she knew Pasha usually took a bit longer to finish up. There should be enough time for her to get a cup of tea. The water wasn't hot and it took longer than she expected. By the time she got back to the entryway, she could hear the twins outside. How did they manage to get around so quickly? She watched them for a moment, Esha was walking along the stone railing and Pasha was climbing up behind her. She was about to call out a warning when she noticed something moving out of the corner of her eye. She turned, expecting Tilly or Korina, and was surprised to catch Letta and Hadrin huddled close together at the far end of the hallway. Strange. Letta didn't strike her as the bookish type. She cleared her throat, startling the pair. Letta glared at her and then ducked out the back hall. Hadrin stiffened, looking embarrassed.
“I'm so glad I ran into you,” Diya said.
Hadrin's eyes narrowed as he slowed rather than brushing by her. “Why would that be?”
“Well, I was just wondering if anyone had talked to you about starting lessons for Tilly.”
“Tilly?”
“Yes. Tilly. She's almost six now. So it is more than time that she got started. Being such a strong proponent of education, I'm sure you'll agree.”
“I most certainly do not.”
“Don't what?”
“I do not agree.”
“That education is important?”
“Don’t mock me!” he said, eyes narrowing again and mouth pursing as though he had bitten into something bitter and sour.
“But surely you must start to teach Tilly as well. You're already here several days every week. You must be able to make some time for the girl.”
“I am not remotely inclined to waste my time on a child who is not teachable.”
“What?”
Hadrin stiffened, straightened up and spoke more slowly. “I am not going to teach her. She cannot be taught.”
“How can you say that?” Everything Diya had experienced with the child told her that she was bright and engaged with the world around her.
“The child is damaged.”
Diya felt a scream rising up, frustration and fury wanting to erupt. She rubbed her face with both hands and pressed her fingers against her shut eyes. Taking a second slow intentional breath, her fingers curled and uncurled as she tried to master her temper. She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She didn’t want to argue with Hadrin because he was going to scorn any emotional argument she made. She pulled her hands away, forcing her shoulders to relax as she let go of her breath. Taking a second slow intentional breath, she tried to master her temper and speak reasonably.
Before she could open her mouth to say anything, Hadrin stiffened, jaw clenched.
He’s no idea what he’s about to go up against.
“The child is deficient. I advised against stressing her with unnecessary and unproductive education.”
“And you deemed her deficient based on what, precisely?” She spoke carefully, keeping her emotions out of her voice. She tried using the tone her father would use when he conferred with the grounds manager: polite and respectful without ceding his authority.
“The child was assessed.”
“Assessed how??” Diya bristled. She felt
her composure slip a tiny bit, resenting every man who had tried to run her life. At the least I’ve been well educated and schooled, unlike many girls such as Letta.
“She was assessed with a battery of tests and questions. She performed significantly below expectations based on her age.”
“What kind of tests and questions was she assessed with? I would like to see this so-called assessment. I am sure that if she were tested properly that she would demonstrate a strong intelligence.” Diya stopped herself before she became argumentative. She imagined Tilly sitting in a room with Hadrin and him treating her as though she were a simpleton. Tilly probably disliked the tutor as much as Diya did. “Has it occurred to you that she may have known exactly what you were asking her?”
“If she cannot or will not communicate, then that in itself is an indicator of the level of competence.” Hadrin’s tone was cool and dismissive as though he was in a hurry to finish a pointless conversation. He had already decided that Tilly was a lost cause.
“Unless she doesn’t even like you!” Diya snapped. “She’s only a child, by the nine hells! They have to like you before they will trust you. Especially someone like Tilly.”
Hadrin sniffed and his eyes narrowed. “The child’s been examined. And tested by countless doctors. None of them has offered anything new or different.”
“Then you are arrogant and insufferable. All your education clearly has not taught you the art of simple observation! All you have to do is watch the child to see that she is capable of learning.”
Hadrin stiffened, shoulders squared. He cocked his head and glared at Diya. “You think you are so much better than everyone else. Oh, so clever! You and your southern ways. You think that no one beyond Tatak Rhe is remotely capable of even the simplest accomplishment. You are, by far, the arrogant and insufferable one.”