WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(103)

“Ah,” said Amyu. “That is good to know.” She frowned at the food. “I have no coin.”

“You serve the Queen,” he said with a smile. “That is payment enough. Take it.” He offered the food again, and nodded over to a shaded spot, against a wall. “Tuck yourself up over there. Mya won’t be long.”

Amyu did so, nibbling on the cheese and crackers, trying very hard to be patient. She wasn’t even sure that this Kalisa would hold any answers, but both the Warprize and Iian had said it was worth a try.

She stared glumly at her hands.

The glow was back. Since the night of the pillar of light everything seemed tinged with golden sparkles that looked like the rings of light that had swept through the Castle that night. She’d had odd headaches too, usually when the sparkles were at their brightest.

Master Eln, when she’d finally been able to speak to him, hadn’t known what to do other than give her willow-bark tea for the headaches. She wrinkled her nose; she drank it but it wasn’t very nice. It did help with the headaches.

But not with the sparkles.

Master Eln had promised to keep her words close, and she’d decided not to share these truths with anyone else. There were more than enough troubles; she’d not add hers to the mix. It didn’t hurt, really. It was just distracting.

Amyu took another bite of cheese and cracker, and distracted herself watching the city-dwellers be about their ways.

Finally, a woman appeared with a basket and jug, and a smile meant only for Anser. He greeted her with a hug, taking her burden and leading her over to Amyu, explaining as they came. Amyu rose to greet them.

“You want to hear Auntie’s tales?” Mya said with surprise. She was a plump woman, her hair tied up in a knot. “You’d be more than welcome, but I fear she’ll talk your ear off.”

Amyu blinked.

“No, no,” Anser said, and smiled. “She means—”

“I’ll explain,” Mya said when she saw the confusion. “You’ll be home at close of market?”

“Aye, my love.” Anser kissed her, and slipped a packet in his wife’s apron pocket. The days’ earnings, Amyu suspected, from the rattle of coins.

She followed Mya through the main streets, until they turned into side streets where the buildings towered over them, so close together that they leaned over the street, blocking out the sun. Amyu knew enough to expect it, but she wasn’t used to it.

“It’s not far,” Mya said. “Auntie will be glad of the company, her hands are paining her so.”

“Auntie,” Amyu said. “I do not know that word. Is she your life-bearer?”

“You mean is she Anser’s mother?” Mya shook her head. “No, no, she’s family on Anser’s side, but I am not sure of exactly how.” Mya paused before a flight of stone steps. “She’s our blood, though, and took Anser and me as her apprentices, to keep the cheese in the family.”

“You keep your animals here?” Amyu asked.

“No, the herds are on the mountain side, outside the City walls. We hid them in the caves when those monsters came.” Mya shuddered as she started up the steps. “Thanks be to the Goddess that we only lost two cows, and that my sons took shelter.” She paused before a heavy, wooden door, opening it wide. “Auntie, someone to see you.”

“And who might that be?” came a strong, clipped voice.

“I am Amyu,” Amyu said as she stepped within. “In Queen Xylara’s service.”

There was a woman seated before the hearth, in a chair that rocked. She was hunched over, her crooked and swollen fingers holding a mug. She looked at Amyu sideways with bright, curious eyes and a welcoming smile. “Well, then, you are welcome, child.” Amyu could have sworn that her gaze flickered to her arms.

Amyu stiffened, then relaxed. Her cloak was on. There was no way this woman could know—

“Ah, forgive these old eyes. You are a Firelander, and a warrior. I mean no insult.”

Kalisa gestured toward a stool at her side. “Come, sit where I can see you, and tell me why you have come.”

“I will leave you,” Mya said, jiggling the coins in her apron meaningfully.

“Good, good,” Kalisa assured her as Mya vanished to another room. “Now, tell me what you want of an old woman, Amyu of the Plains.”

Amyu sank down on the stool and took a deep breath. “I want to fly.”

The old woman stared at her, her eyes wide with shock. But then her gaze dropped to her own hands, tight on her mug. Amyu could see the very bones through the thin skin of the crippled fingers.

Kalisa shook her head, muttering under her breath words that Amyu didn’t quite catch. Something about ‘lifetimes of waiting.’ That couldn’t be right. But Xyian was so odd. She opened her mouth to ask, but Kalisa turned back, her eyes now piercing and narrow.

“Explain yourself, and quickly.”

Amyu explained, her words tumbling out of her mouth as she talked about the wyverns and the airions and the tapestry and the scroll.

And as she babbled, she looked at Kalisa, for she’d never seen one so old, so warped by age. Her crooked, swollen fingers, where she could see every line, every bone. The humped back. The face, almost a skull, with thin skin worn and wrinkled. Kalisa’s white hair was braided back, but it was thin and the braid yellowed at the ends.