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“Mistress Maedura.” Allin gestured to Temar. “My companion, Natyr.”
“All who seek answers are welcome,” said the woman in passable Tormalin. Her shrewd eyes rather unexpectedly lacked the hard calculation Temar expected from a trickster. They were also the colour of a rain-washed sky and he realised how seldom he’d seen anyone with light eyes since arriving here.
“Your questions?” Mistress Maedura prompted.
“Of course,” said Allin nervously.
Temar looked at the younger woman sitting silent beside Mistress Maedura. She had the same pale eyes but hers were as empty as a summer noon, staring fixedly at the wall behind Temar. She was dressed in a soft green weave, skirt spotted with spilled food, and her sparse dull hair was cut short in a ragged crop. The laces of her bodice pulled unevenly over a mature figure yet her face had the unlined vacancy of a child.
“My daughter was caught between the realms of life as a babe,” said Maedura without emotion. “Le
Maedura gave Allin a handful of three-sided bones and gestured her to the single stool facing the chest. “Set out your birth signs on the lid.” Allin fumbled through the bones, finally picking out three separate runes.
Temar took a step closer, recognising the Deer, the Broom and the Mountain. “You draw three separate bones?”
Allin shot him a piercing look of rebuke. “But your father would have insisted on the Tormalin way, wouldn’t he, just the one bone?” She turned to Maedura, speaking in rapid, offhand Lescari. Temar would have preferred to know what was being said about him but whatever yarn Allin was spi
Allin turned to Temar again. “Your grandmother favoured the runes, didn’t she? She swore there was art to casting them.”
Temar nodded hastily. Holding his wine glass up to shield his mouth, he began whispering under his breath, reciting one of the few charms Guinalle had managed to drill into him. If Artifice was being worked here, it would echo in his hearing with unmistakable resonance. He forced himself to concentrate despite the faint dizziness aggravating his lurking headache, reluctantly realising he wasn’t as recovered as he’d boasted.
“Ask your question,” Maedura commanded.
“Where’s my cousin Chel?” Allin demanded abruptly. Temar could see the tips of her ears going scarlet.
Maedura took her daughter’s hands and laid them on the runes. Aversion flitted momentarily over Le
“I see a river.” Le
“I see a river curving over a plain.” The girl’s voice was deep, firm and assured. “A big river, wide-mouthed as it enters the sea. The water is brown, bringing goodness down from the high land. Then this will be fertile ground. There are marshes, saltings full of white birds. No birds I ever saw before, but we should try bringing down a few, to see if they make good eating. See, there is a fair landing yonder, open grass above the tide line. We can build a wharf along the bank. There is plenty of timber for shelter too, goodly stands of trees.”
Le
Allin turned to Temar, her face an eloquent mix of embarrassment and disappointment. “Shall we go?”
“Your payment?” Mistress Maedura held her daughter’s hands down as they hooked into impotent claws.
“Your fee?” asked Allin icily. She stood and pulled her cape around her.
“Whatever you think the information is worth.” Maedura got to her feet as Le
“Not very much, to be truthful.” Allin drew a resolute breath.
“No, wait,” Temar broke in, blood pulsing behind his eyes. “Allin, ask again, about anyone.”
Allin looked doubtfully at him and Maedura laid a protective hand on her daughter’s uncaring shoulder. Temar held up one of the Tormalin Empire Crowns. “My payment in advance.”
“If this is your question, you must set out your runes,” said Maedura in some confusion.
“Here.” Temar pushed at the single bone bearing the Salmon, the Reed and the Sea. “I was born under the greater moon, does that make any difference?”
Maedura shook her head as she lifted her daughter’s hands with their chewed, split fingernails towards the rune and Temar hastily withdrew, flesh crawling at the thought of touching the unfortunate.
“I seek a little girl.” He coughed and forced his voice to stay level. “A little girl wearing a yellow dress with red flowers sewn around the hem. I do not know her name but she has an older brother and a sister. They all sleep together wrapped in a brown cloak.” His throat closed with emotion and he couldn’t say any more.
Le
“Where am I?” This time Le
As she lifted her eager, searching face to him, Temar felt his heart miss a beat. For an instant Le
After a moment of utter silence, Le
“Hush, hush.” Maedura tried to gather her child in her arms, fending off the raking nails with difficulty.
“Let’s just go.” Allin tugged at Temar’s arm.
He resisted. “How many questions does that gold buy me?” he demanded roughly.
Maedura’s expression was a turmoil of desperation and self-loathing. “As many as you need to ask, what do you think? But only for tonight.”
“I will be outside,” said Temar with sudden decision. “When you are done with everyone else, we will speak further.” He pulled Allin out of the room so fast she nearly stumbled on top of him.
Ignoring the covert curiosity of the people waiting, Temar strode rapidly into the front room. “Do you have spirits? Strong liquor?” he asked the serving woman curtly.
“White brandy, if you have it,” Allin shoved Temar towards the inglenook by the fire. His knees gave out as he reached the low bench so he waited while Allin brought over a black bottle and two small glasses fetched from the cupboard behind the crone’s chair. She watched the pair of them with considerable interest in her watery old eyes.
“What was that all about?” demanded Allin, handing Temar as large a measure as she could safely pour. “Aetheric magic?”
Temar swallowed the colourless liquor in one breath, gasping as it jolted him out of the shock numbing his wits. “Not being worked in the room,” he said hoarsely. “Neither of them have any notion of enchantments.”
“That girl doesn’t look as if she’s a notion in her head,” commented Allin with pity, sipping cautiously.