by T J Muir
Papa
Her mother’s letter updated her on social gossip. Diya imagined her mother sitting out in the garden, writing a letter to cheer her daughter up. All of this might have felt important a year ago. Now, it all seemed so trivial and insignificant. But her mother meant well and it made her smile, feeling closer to the woman than she had since she was a child. And her mother had sent a few additional trinkets as well as some spiced chocolate!
Just then she looked up to see Esha standing just outside the door, looking curious and a little worried. Diya folded up the letters and tucked them inside her vest. “Is everything okay?” Diya asked.
Esha shrugged, her attention on the package. “What did you get?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Oh, just some letters from home. It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard from my family.” Diya said, then decided she didn’t want to end up answering a lot of questions. That could get complicated as well as awkward, “Oh, my mother sent me some spiced chocolates. You should try one.” Diya fished around, opening the small box. The rich pungent scent of chocolate wafted up. Diya closed her eyes, memories and emotions welling up. The bazaars and markets of Tatak Rhe. Oh, I miss wandering through the square on market days.
She ate one of the chocolates and handed one to Esha, waiting for her reaction. The initial sweet of the sugar with the slightly bitter taste of chocolate, then the subtle taste of fruit, and the aftertaste of cloves and pepper. Esha smiled, then her eyes opened wider, in amazement. Then they grew wider as the peppery taste hit.
Diya laughed, handing Esha some water. A moment later, Esha’s face returned to normal. “That was different,” she said.
“Want another?” Diya asked, holding the box up.
Esha chewed her lip, looking undecided. Then she reached out cautiously, picking one of them up as though it might burn her fingers. “They aren’t too bad,” she said, “once you know what to expect.”
Diya nodded, noticing that Esha was staring at the pile of opened letters. She began to imagine the spate of questions that would follow if Esha started. Questions she didn’t want to answer. Her cover story had remained intact, mostly because there had been no cause to question it. No one had been that interested in her past. She looked up at the sky, pretending to stretch, as though she were about to get up.
“Look at that sky!” she exclaimed. “Its beautiful. And there is plenty of afternoon light left,” she said trying to sound cheerful. “Why don't we go out for a nice hike?”
Esha glanced back toward the house. Diya looked up noticing Pasha coming out the door and heading toward them dressed in his barn clothes and the boots he wore to ride his pony.
Glancing back to Diya she asked, “Do you know how to ride?”
“What? Why?” Diya asked confused.
“A horse. Do you know how to ride a horse?” she asked with a hint of the old exasperation.
Diya blinked. She had spent most of her time in cities away from farm animals. She found them interesting to draw and watch but mostly from a distance. “I’ve ridden a few times but I’m not really very good at it.”
Esha nodded as though it was the answer she expected. “City girl.”
“I suppose,” Diya said, not sure if it was an insult or just a comment.
“You should let Pasha teach you to ride,” she said louder now for her brother to hear as he drew closer.
“C’mon. Let’s take the horses out for a ride.” His glance shifted back and forth between the two of them looking displeased.
Esha looked up at her brother, glancing sideways towards Diya.
“It’s really nice out. I’ve been looking forward to this the whole time Hadrin was shoving math problems at me.”
Esha chewed her lower lip. “Why don’t we teach Diya how to ride?” she asked.
Wait, what?
Pasha looked about as excited as she felt.
Esha looked back at Diya. “It’ll be fun,” she said, nodding encouragement.
Diya wasn’t sure about the whole idea— getting on an animal that was ten times her size— but this might be a chance to connect with Pasha on some level, letting him teach her and show off his skills. She cringed thinking that. Then she remembered Jay’s letter. He was learning how to ride a horse. Maybe it was a good idea for her to learn now, before she went to the Faenyr lands.
“Could you teach me to ride?” she asked, looking up at the boy who stood a few feet away hands deep in his jacket pocket waiting.
Pasha glared at his sister, but she just stared him down. Diya had seen these silent contests between the two before. Finally Pasha sighed, relenting this time.
A half-shrug. “Taught Tilly. She’s still alive,” he said with that dry biting tone in his voice—
Pasha gave Diya an overview, introducing her to Chunky, showing Diya how to clean and handle the pony. Then Pasha took out the saddle and bridle and got the pony ready.
“Trot,” Pasha called out.
“Whaaa— Breshan’s balls!!!” she cursed as the pony sped up underneath her.
She made it ten steps before she lost balance bouncing backwards and falling back onto the saddle. Her horse Chunky stopped immediately causing Diya to rock forward—sprawling on the pony’s neck.
CHAPTER Twenty-two
The next several weeks followed the same routine with Pasha raising the level every time Diya thought she was doing well, but she never complained and never whined even as she limped off to the house to soak in a hot bath. After that it seemed to get easier— even though she was riding longer and doing more and she liked that it gave her something to talk about with Pasha.
“Work on relaxing your shoulders,” he’d call out. Or, “practice standing on the steps to stretch your heels.” That was the closest to friendly conversation he had come.
Then he started to teach her from his horse—a solid looking dun pony with a white stripe down his face. Blaze was his name after the face marking.
At first Diya thought he just meant to show off but then realized how much easier it was to understand something when he rode next to her and showed her. Esha usually joined them as well on Blaze’s near-twin pony. Instead of the solid blaze this one wore a thin stripe that ran crooked stopping above its nose where a soft white dot covered one nostril. “Like a Dewdrop.”
Despite some of the friction between the two of them Diya realized the boy was very good with animals and he was in his element when he was actively engaged in something.
“Let’s take them out for a walk,” he said, toward the end of the lesson.
Chunky followed behind Blaze, happy to stretch her neck and explore. It was late enough in the spring now that there were green things for the pony to grab whenever Diya forgot to pay attention to her chubby partner. The three of them rode up to the crest behind the pastures. When they got to the top Diya gasped.
“It’s breathtaking!” she said, looking out over a low valley. She could see a waterfall over to the right coming down from the foothills. “Oh, what’s that way over there? Is that a yfa chirrik?”
The twins glanced over at where she pointed, but from the looks on their faces it was a reflex rather than uncertainty. This was their neighborhood.
“Yfa chirra,” Pasha said. “The Da’har’s estate is just beyond that. From that ridge over there,” he added nodding to their right, “you can see three yfa chirrik too.”
“It seems strange.”
“Why?”
Diya shrugged. “I’ve just never seen them—out in the wild like this.”
A pair of befuddled faces turned to regard this odd statement.
“In the east they are usually sequestered on the so’harats and da’hars estates— they are not out in the open like this.”
“Well that’s kind of stupid. They were put where they are to serve the land. The land decided where they needed to be— not people.”
Diya knew this but didn’t really understand it.
She like everyone
else in all of Chanmyr knew that the shells balanced the magic power in the world but there was almost no magic flowing in Tatak Rhe. She frowned thinking. Why was that? Magic seemed to be everywhere and there were these gigantic magnificent structures gifted to them by the gods— ever so long ago— to help keep humans from disrupting the harmonies of nature and spirit that kept the land abundant. So why wouldn’t there be magic in Tatak Rhe— if there were magic shells there?
They definitely worked at keeping water flowing— up to the top levels of the city as well as throughout the canals. No one seemed concerned that their shells didn’t really work the way they had been intended. She imagined Jedda would love diving into that kind of riddle.
“Helloooo...” Pasha called out to her pulling her out of her wandering thoughts.
Diya shook her head laughing. “Sorry my mind wandered.”
“We gotta go. It’s getting late,” Pasha sniffed but the disdain in it was half-hearted. He turned Blaze around and headed down a logging trail back towards the house.
Glancing at the afternoon sky and seeing the Nibbin barely halfway across Diya was about to protest that there was still plenty of time. Then she realized: Pasha didn’t want to be too far from the house for too long. So as Pasha pushed Blaze into a trot she turned Chunky and did her best to keep up without falling.
The three of them rode along horses walking and picking their way through the mud. Pasha pulled his horse up sharply on the far side of the muck holding up his hand as Diya and Esha came up beside.
“Sshhhhhh,” he said waving his hand at her. “There's a Faenyr just up ahead.”
Esha warned Diya, “Be very still”
“Why?” Diya asked alarmed.
“Well if you startle him he might just shoot us.”
Diya looked around at the trees. She fought down panic. Were there more of them? These Faenyr?
The man on horseback drew closer. Diya’s heart sped up. The Faenyr reminded her of Jedda, with soft golden and amber coloring, and silvery blond hair pulled back in a braid. And his horse was magnificent! Even knowing almost nothing about horses Diya was in awe of the satiny sheen of the dusty golden mount.
“Would he really shoot us?” she asked, realizing how little she knew. The twins exploded into laughter and bending over gave gleeful gasps. “You should see the look on your face!”
“By the gods, you looked terrified!”
Diya let out a breath angry at being made to look foolish.
The Faenyr rode closer nodding and spoke saying a jumble of words that made no sense to her. The higher pitch caught Diya by surprise. This was a woman. It was so hard to tell because the finer delicate features and any details were hidden by her cloak.
Esha nodded and responded slower and more carefully- picking her words it seemed. Esha speaks Faenyr? Diya turned looking back and forth between the two. Do they know this person? From the formal exchange she guessed it was unlikely.
Another nod and more words were exchanged before the woman rode off and turned down a trail Diya barely noticed.
It wasn't until the Faenyr disappeared that Diya relaxed. Letting out a deep sigh she looked over at the twins and her eyes narrowed. That was their idea of a joke. She didn't think it was very funny. “Who was that? Where was she going?”
“She didn't say.” Esha clucked to her horse, and they began down the path once again. “Perhaps she’s headed to one of their shrines. Well, not really a shrine. Not the way we think of them. The word doesn't really translate. A sacred place? Place of power or something like that.”
That sounded mysterious and dangerous. Diya looked at Pasha who just shrugged. “What? I don't speak more than ten words of Faenyr. Please. Thank you. Have a good day. Esha’s the one who speaks Faenyr. I studied the high-dialect of the old tongue.”
That caught her by surprise. The twins had been required to study a language. Even she had only learned enough of the high-dialect for ceremonial purposes: songs, incantations, and sacred prayers. It was a pretty sounding dialect but it had no purpose other than its use in official ceremonies and sacred rites.
But she was more interested in the Faenyr right now. She looked back at Esha, surprised that the girl spoke the Faenyr tongue but then Esha was the more clever of the two. “What do you think she is going to do at the shrine?”
“Who knows. Shrine stuff. Faenyr stuff. I didn't ask.”
Pasha clucked at Blaze and all three horses headed down the trail.
Thinking about the Faenyr, Diya began to wonder if that was where Jay had gone. ‘I’m going to try to find my family.’’ Those had been his words. He must have meant the Faenyr. Maybe they knew Jay? She imagined Jay riding a glorious horse next to that exotic stranger. They had that same distant air about them aloof and inscrutable. Questions began racing through her mind now. Jay had promised to find a safe place for her and he had gone in search of family. If he had found his family perhaps he would send for her soon.
“Are they from around here? Is it far? Have you ever been there?” she asked. “Do they live in the trees? I thought I heard that once.”
Both twins swiveled around and gave her a puzzled look.
‘“What’s gotten into you?” Pasha asked. “Why all the questions? It’s a good thing they can’t understand you too.” Pasha rolled his eyes and shook his head. “They’d probably shoot you,” he muttered to himself just loud enough for Diya to hear.
Diya wasn’t about to be deterred. She looked at Esha. “Would you be willing to teach me how to speak Faenyr?”
“First, I don’t know very much,” Esha said. “Why the sudden interest anyway?’
The question caught her off guard. “What?” she asked flustered. How was she supposed to answer that? “I’m just curious. I’ve never met a full Faenyr before.”
“Never?”
“No. I’ve met one or two half-breeds-- I mean not full blooded Faenyr before but they looked-- more normal.” That wasn’t entirely true she realized. She had gone to school where there were a good number of half-faenyr students. But her social circle had been all southerners and Tatak Rhe students. The other students had called them Tat-rats and excluded them.
Pasha looked stunned, shaking his head at her and laughing derisively. “Do you know how snobbish you sound? You live in a big city. Don’t you meet anyone who is foreign?”
She choked. Had Pasha just called her a snob? “I am not a snob! I just realized I never learned anything about my faenyr friends, what Cham’s family was like or where he lived.” Jay had grown up in Tatak Rhe or at least she was fairly certain that was the case. She didn’t know what to believe. Hearing the two faenyr speak she was fairly sure Jay didn’t speak the language. He sounded just like everyone else from the city. Even Cham had a strong accent when he spoke but Jay had no trace. One day, she hoped she would learn the truth of his story--whatever it was.
CHAPTER Twenty-three
Chunky was shedding the worst part of her winter coat. Diya kept spitting out tufts of fluffy winter fur as she brushed the pony down after her lesson. How did one animal have this much fur? Despite a thorough brushing before she tacked the pony up, it just kept coming off. Satisfied that Chunky was clean and dry, at least, she turned around to put the brushes back in the box. Tilly wandered into the barn and went straight up to Chunky, wrapping her arms around the pony’s head.
“Tilly, be careful!” Diya cried, lunging forward to pull the girl to safety. Then she stopped before she reached them. The pony dropped her nose into the girl’s lap. Diya shook her head in disbelief. Every instinct told her that Tilly should be in danger but as he stood there watching them, she was transfixed. She looked around and saw Pasha by the barn door, bent over his pony’s foot. “How did she do that?” Diya asked loud enough for Pasha to hear.
“Do what?” he looked up.
“The pony it’s like it—read Tilly’s mind or something.”
“Oh that,” he said casually. He continued scraping at his pony’s h
oof. “It’s her pony after all.”
“Wait. Chunky is Tilly’s pony?”
“Well yeah. I mean after we both learned to ride and Tilly was old enough Chunky just naturally became hers.”
Diya spun around to face Pasha. “So I’ve been riding her pony this whole time?”
Pasha shrugged dropping Blaze’s foot and standing up.
“Well, whose horse did you think it was?” he laughed. “Did your family just keep a whole barn full of horses standing around for the occasional guest?”
Diya opened her mouth then closed it. Truthfully, it was exactly what her life had been, one of excess with anything she wanted being available..
“Well then, perhaps I should get my own horse so that I am not inconveniencing anyone.”
That earned a curious scowl from Pasha.
Have I just proven his point? Once again Diya was perhaps being indulgent with money, but on the other hand she was trying to be aware and considerate of the people around her. The two eyed each other for a moment puzzled and considering.
“Are you serious?” Pasha flicked the hoof pick scraping dirt off of it.
She gave a deep sigh as she considered. “Well this way all four of us could ride together—,” she added hastily, “as I improve, that is.”
Pasha walked around Blaze and picked up the other foot.
“So where would I find a horse? I don’t know anything about buying one.”
Without saying a word Pasha’s dry wit was expressed by the lift of an eyebrow and a pointed expression.
“Would you help me—buy a horse?”
Then she looked up, realizing Tilly and Chunky had disappeared.
“By the nine hells!” she swore, spinning and trying to spot the pair.
“No need to worry about them. They don’t go far— probably just below there in the orchard,” he said, nodding to her left.
Diya sighed and felt relieved. How had she managed to lose track of a child and a large pony?
“I should go check. Just to be sure,” Diya said heading towards the orchard.