“Sammy, she can’t just stay cooped up here forever,” Deliatus pleaded, “She’s a young lady, not a chicken.”
Jie scoffed, feigning affront.
“You’ll find no birds as happy as our chickens, and they live quite literally cooped up here,” he grinned, laying plates of his scrambled eggs in front of Deliatus, Dari and Sam.
“Happy chickens,” Dari agreed with a nod, pinching off a piece of scrambled egg and popping it into her mouth.
“And yet you are no chicken,Dari, dear. This is precisely the sort of thing I am concerned about,” Deliatus gestured to Dari, who had abandoned what she considered very ladylike pinches at her food to whole-handed shoveling of eggs into her mouth. “Dari, would you at least try the fork, as a personal favor to your dear friend Deliatus.”
With a deep sigh, Dari grasped her fork like a dagger and stabbed it into her remaining eggs, retrieving only a tiny morsel. Shaking, she guided the fork into her mouth.
“Personal favor, dear friend Deliatus,” Dari said, pointing the fork at Deliatus.
“I do appreciate it, dear Dari. Was it terribly difficult?”
“It looked terribly difficult. Strenuous, even,” Jie said.
“Strenuous!” Dari cried, taking another tiny forkful, flopping over onto the bar next to her plate.
“Jie, you shouldn’t bedevil either of us so! I only wish for Dari to become as fine a lady as I know her to be,”
Sam cut Deliatus off, holding a bit of egg in front of her painted lips. Scowling, Deliatus opened her mouth.
“Incorrigible, the lot of you,” Deliatus chided, chewing.
“Baby steps, ‘Latus,” Sam said with a kiss to Deliatus’ forehead. “You heard her the other night. She’s coming right along, aren’t you, Dari?”
“Right along,” Dari agreed.
“Stuck back in the parrot thing, though, huh?” Sam frowned. “The parrot thing is better than nothing, I reckon. Puts a body in an odd position, asking you questions though.”
“Dari seems to be experiencing echolalia,” Jie began. Sam stifled a groan, as Deliatus leaned forward with her best impression of interest.
“Echolalia!” Dari interrupted, drawing the syllables out like calling into a cavern, laughing.
Sam and Deliatus joined with giggles of their own.
“Yes, quite, Dari,” Jie continued, undeterred. “McCulloch of Segant mentions echolalia in his text on disorders of the mind. It is common to all manner of disorders I do not believe Dari to suffer from, but can also follow trauma, which we can reasonably infer poor Dari has experienced.”
“Poor Dari,” Dari groused, waving a hand.
“My sincere apologies, Dari,” Jie said, taking her greasy hand. “I had no intention of speaking as if you were not present. I get over enthusiastic in matters of research, especially when the subject is dear to me.”
“Dear to you,” Dari teased.
“Dari, darling, that was no parroting!” Deliatus praised, “It was one word, but it was not an echo. Oh, and you did speak the other night, after singing so beautifully. I’ll tell you, Orm has never danced more gracefully than when you sang.”
“No parroting,” Dari agreed, slipping from Jie’s grasp.
Sam and Deliatus frowned.
“Well, girlie, you’re still making steps forward, that’s the important thing, to my mind,” said Sam. “How can we help Dari here with her echoing? Questions to a person who mostly repeats what you say are a right puzzle.”
“Not at all. For simple, yes/no questions, appending ‘yes? No?’ to an inquiry suffices. Phrasing questions as statements is a proven method. For example, concerning the disagreement between yourself and Deliatus as to whether or not Dari ought to accompany me into town, one might say : ‘Dari wants to go to town with Jie’.”
“Dari wants to go to town with Jie!” Dari cried, slapping the bar in delight.
“Along with the statement in the negative, ‘Dari does not want to go to town with Jie.’”
“Dari. Wants. To. Go. To. Town. With. Jie,” Dari repeated, punctuating each word with a gleeful tap to the bar.
“The girl knows what she wants, it looks like,” Sam said, her hands raised. “‘Latus, help her get cleaned up.”
Deliatus sighed, watching as Dari wiped her hands on the front of her dress and raised her skirt to wipe her mouth, but soldiered the girl up the stairs nonetheless.
“And you,” Sam pointed at Jie, who interrupted:
“Will be fully responsible for her well-being, actions and honor. I am to shield her from my own predation in particular for reasons I find baffling, as prior to her arrival neither of you seemed to notice, and definitely did not acknowledge my gender, despite having been quite obviously a man the whole of our relationship,” Jie rattled, rubbing a shadow of stubble at his chin.
“You were fifteen when we met! This whole ‘man’ business is news to me,” Sam said.
“As you like,” Jie grumbled. “But I have been indisputably male the whole while. I am uncertain if I should take as insult or compliment you have taken so long to acknowledge the apparent fearsome nature of my sex.”
Sam rubbed her own chin.
“Probably a little of both. You’re a good kid, Jie, but she’s a pretty girl and in she's in a bad way. Folk get ideas. You don’t get those sorts of ideas, but all the same. She seems right stuck on you, you know?”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Jie said, studying his teacup.
“Like the outer darknesses you hadn’t noticed,” Sam said, “you notice most everything.”
“Any particular fondness she shows for me is only because I am better able to understand her than most. We’re working on her Kangais, schedule permitting.”
“Oh, yeah, contact learning. That’s why she’s always finding little excuses to hold your hand and fix your hair and such, huh?”
“She’s no more affectionate than Deliatus,” Jie said, reddening. “Besides, we’ve no way of knowing where she comes from. Perhaps her behavior is considered well-mannered among her people.”
Sam shook her head.
“Just take care. She’s vulnerable. Don’t want her imprinting on you like a little duckling before she’s had a chance to learn or relearn or whatever is happening with her, you understand.”
“Thank you, my lady-lord,” Jie said, wiping the second-hand grease from his fingers with a bar rag, “I take what you’ve said to heart.”
Sam frowned.
“‘Latus, you are the heart of charity, but we may need to see about getting the girl some clothes of her own.”
“Ordinarily, sweet Sammy, I would say you’re being altogether too stuffy, but I tend to agree. Though she was really quite insistent.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Same agreed, watching Dari spin in a full-skirted dress Deliatus had, delicately put, outgrown before her twentieth summer. Dari herself appeared to have had a similar growth spurt, though Deliatus had tried to conceal it with a straining double-knotted bow at the top of the cornflower blue bodice top. “Couldn’t convince her into something with sleeves, at least?”
Deliatus raised her hands in defeat.
“I tried my level best, my hand to the Mothers.”
“How lovely, dear Dari,” Dari said with a spin.
“Hand to the Mothers, eh?”
“Well,” Deliatus hedged, “I do always hold with the notion of carrots over
sticks. You know, praising her for getting dressed mostly on her own, rather than criticizing her choice of dress. And you must admit, it is a lovely color for her complexion.”
“I’ll have Jie explain as much to whoever's eye she puts out when that knot fails,” Sam said.
“Oh, you exaggerate, Sammy!”
Jie, who considered it wise to stay silent on the matter of women’s appearances in general, scrutinized his market list as if it were an ancient Mori medical text. He shouldered his market pack, eyes fixed on the floor.
“Jie, do I exaggerate?”
Dari flounced her skirt at him as he concentrated on the wood grain of the floorboards.
“I couldn’t say, my lady-lord. I am thoroughly unlettered in the area of women’s clothing.”
“Right. Explains your staring at the floor.”
“Merely admiring work well done,” he said, tilting his head to look at Sam, still avoiding Dari.
Sam shook her head.
“On your own heads be it,” she waved, “You got the list. Dari, you stick to Jie, ok? Folk can get spooked by a new face, especially when it’s a lovely and unusual one.”
“Lovely and unusual!” Dari touched her face, feigning shyness.
“Out with both of you,” Sam ordered, “I gotta talk to ‘Latus about what sort of influence she’s having.”
Jie offered an arm, which Dari took. With her other hand, she pulled her shoes off, tossing them next to the doorframe.
“Well obviously, I’m not as influential as you say, Sammy,” Deliatus said, crossing her arms with a smile. “I tried with the shoes.” Outside, Dari slid her hand down Jie’s arm to lace their fingers together.
Jie flinched, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
“You are ignoring to me,” Dari accused.
“Not ignoring, precisely. Attempting to spare myself a good deal of trouble is perhaps more accurate,” Jie sighed.
“I do not to cause to you trouble!” Dari protested. “A love-ly girl to walk to the side of you is not being the troubling thing.”
Jie stopped in the path. Seizing Dari by the shoulders, he forced a quick look at the dress--and the shape of the body laced into it-- she’d been begging him to acknowledge.
“You are the best of any flower of the field,” he said, like a chastisement. “I’ve been charged with seeing you aren’t plucked.”
“Thanking to you,” Dari said, flashing a triumphant smile. “I have the feelings to safety and prettiness, for the reason that I am to go with you.”
Jie shook his head, blushing as Dari gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“It’s ok for us to walk like this for now, but you mustn’t hold my hand as such when we’re in town.”
“For what is the reason to this? I have very a lot of easiness to talk to this way,” Dari said, swinging their interlocked hands.
“Ordinarily, such contact is a cultural signal which is untrue of us and likely to garner more talk than will already be generated by your appearance,” Jie replied. He stopped, released Dari’s hand, and rolled the sleeves of his work shirt to his elbows. “Take my arm, as Deliatus showed you.”
“This is having the signal to the more true and less troublesome thing?”
“Yes. Holding the crook of my arm signifies you are escorted by a chaperone. More importantly, it signifies that I, an agent of Sam, escort you,” Jie explained. “My lady-lord has a somewhat oversized sphere of influence, keeping the only reputable tavern for at least thirty miles.”
“You do not have the liking to hold to my hand?” Dari asked.
“No,” Jie huffed, shaking his head. “I mean, no, it’s not that I dislike holding your hand. But it would have inappropriate implications, you understand.”
“I am not having to the understanding. To what would be to the implications?” Dari puzzled.
“It would imply we were lovers. It could damage your reputation before you have a chance to build one in the first, you see,” Jie said, looking away.
“Lovers?” Dari asked, lilting her voice in curiosity.
“Yes. Lovers. People who...” Jie flustered, searching his mind for the driest, most neutered vocabulary he could muster to explain the concept. Turning to Dari, Jie’s heart thudded against his chest so heavily he felt certain she could hear. The corner of her lips twitched, drawing Jie’s eyes to meet hers, which sparkled with mischief. He frowned.
“You,” he accused, “are putting me on.”
Dari cackled.
“It is being to the small joke, only. You are having deserving to it, if you would to have to the feelings to embarrassment for the people to have to the thought you are being to my lover,” she asserted. “Deliatus is calling to me ‘delightful’.”
“I’m certain she does,” Jie grumbled. “And I would not be embarrassed--” Jie stammered, real concern he may die of embarrassment drawing color to his cheeks.
Dari grinned.
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“Just, it’s really to your benefit. As a lady escorted--and this is important, by Sam the Tavernkeep’s man-- you’re shown to have people who look after you. It’s safer.”
Dari considered this.
“If I was to being escorted to by Jie, who can to do very a lot of the reading and taking care to the animals, and had to the appearance to love to me, what would to be to the difference?”
“In that dress?” Jie sighed. “I’m being unfair. You’d court disaster even if you wore a potato sack still half-full of potatoes. Given my status independent of Sam, should certain uncouth parties believe me to be your primary contact, you’d suffer all manner of unwanted propositions.
“This is having to very a lot of silliness. I would to do the kicking to the shins to the persons who are having to the uncouth behavior. I have very a lot of liking to hold to your hand.”
Jie sighed.
“Perhaps we should save this for translation, or whatever inexplicable communication is occurring between us.”
“As it is for you to like. We do not to tell to Sam and Deliatus about how can I to talk to you. I do not have the understanding for this.”
“I can’t say I have an understanding of it, either,” Jie said, squaring his glasses. “To my knowledge, I do not possess any sort of magic I should imagine would be requisite for this phenomenon. I would’ve discovered such a talent long ago, with my studies in languages. I must admit it is a bit unsettling.”
Dari shook her head at Jie.
“I do not give you the unsettling feeling,” she said with a wry smile.
“Deliatus has bathed, clothed and braided you. Can you speak with her?”
Dari held her thumb and forefinger apart a small width.
“Like to the parrot, Deliatus has the saying.”
“Precisely. She’s had quite a lot more physical contact with you, yet you’re able to speak to me, but not her. I did not mention our communication to Sam and ‘Latus because I cannot explain it. It’s altogether inexplicable.”
“You are having to very a lot of the worries, Jie.”
“Truer words,” he agreed, patting her hand on his arm.
“Ok,” Jie said, looking down to his market list, despite having memorized it in his efforts to ignore the missing bits of Dari’s dress, “We’re to put in an order for barley at the malster’s, and I’d like to have a look at the seeds, as well. I’ve saved everything from last season, but I can always use new herbs, if any are to be had.” Jie spoke to no one in particular, certainly not to Dari, who pulled his arm, her head turning with such exuberant urgency he had to duck to avoid the whip of her braid.
“So many of the persons, with very a lot of the difference!” she said, hopping from foot to foot, trying to tug Jie in the direction of the bustling square. Her enthusiasm for errands, her mode of dress, her overall strangeness did not go unnoticed, as several passers-by, not regulars at the Bronze Bough, stopped to stare at her. Dari, undeterred, gave gawkers an excited wave and a shouted explanation:
“I am to go to the market with Jie!”
Jie, sighing, relented.
“We’re going, we’re going. Please, Dari, try not to shout at people. It’s considered impolite.”
“Sorries!” she shouted, hopping alongside Jie.
“And while I find your excitable hopping quite charming, others may be disturbed by it.”
Dari narrowed her eyes.
“I can to do to the hopping if I have the desire to it. I was having to the feeling of happiness.”
Jie deflated.
“Forgive me, Dari. I don’t mean to order you around.”
“Do not to give to me the orders, if you do not have to the meaning to,” Dari countered.
Jie pulled her closer to whisper.
“I truly do apologize. You are your own person, it is your prerogative to behave as you please. I do respect you, truly. However, I am likewise concerned for your well-being.”
“Patronizing,” Dari challenged.
“Yes, but I’m a bit that way with everyone, I’m afraid,” Jie admitted. “Anyone who can charm bees with little more than a nod or sing as you do is deserving of the utmost respect. I’ll order you no longer. But may I offer advice, at times?”
Dari turned her head.
“Offer advice at times,” she replied, her elegant nose titled toward the sky. “I do not to talk like to the parrot. I am having the intention to show to you my annoyed feelings.”
“Fair, and understood. Am I to be forgiven?”
“This is being to the thing that will to happen,” Dari grumbled. “I have very a lot liking to you. To hold to the upset feelings to you is the difficult thing.”
Jie smiled.
“I have very a lot of liking for you, too, Dari,” he parroted.
Her anger forgotten, Dari pulled Jie toward the malster’s, where broad, squat barrels of grain the size of dwarves sat. Transfixed, Dari plunged her hands into the grain, marveling at the curious texture of husks against her skin. Unphased, Jie haggled trades of his goat cheese, eggs and Sam’s ale against barely and seeds, arranging for delivery.
“Fine looking girl you’ve got all the sudden, Jie,” Scrumpy, the old dwarf malster, teased.
“Dari’s her own girl, not mine. Woman, I mean,” Jie said, casting his dark eyes downward to glare into Scrumpy’s, never tilting his head, as was considered polite in conversation with dwarves. “She’s a friend, Sam’s cousin from Amissopolois. We work together, at the Bough.”
The old dwarf raised his bushy eyebrows and gave a knowing smile. Jie, frowning, pulled Dari away the barrels.
“Come on,” he said, “We’ve other errands to attend to.”
“Don’t blame you, keeping her all to yourself!” The malster called after them. “‘Specially in that dress!”
Dari giggled.
“This is the idea which has to the wisdom, to keep to me to yourself.”
“I’m not,” Jie groused, but pulled Dari closer, anyway. “It’s simply rude, behaving as if women are owned. Sam has charged me with your education, after all--what an awful idea to expose you to.”
“But you cannot to let to me away from your sight, like to the goat which would to escape when it came to the market to go to the sale.” Dari teased. “I am not having to the annoyed feelings to this. You give to the goats very a lot of the kindness.”
Jie felt his heart sink and rise as she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder, so close he could smell Deliatus’ hair oil and a peculiar fragrance unique to Dari.
“Stop that. You’re not a goat,” he feigned a cough to push her away, scanning the square for a distraction, pulling Dari in the direction of the baker’s booth. Bryjer, the baker, was fully disinterested in even very lovely women. He could be trusted not to make any untoward remarks. “But unscrupulous men abound, nonetheless. Didn’t Deliatus want a bit of bread?”
“You are having to the list,” Dari said, pointing to the scrap in his hand.
“Ah, yes,” Jie said, pocketing the list. Deliatus would be happy for the bread, and Sam would overlook the extra expense, if it made Deliatus happy.
“Well-met, Bryjer,” Jie called to the baker, a tall, broad-shouldered elf.
“Glad to hear it,” Bryjer answered. “Here, I thought you’d be put out about the Sugar Mountain Roosters. That storm a few weeks back beat them back pretty bad, but on my honor, I’m checking back this evening. I’ve got a real nice secret patch of ‘em, and just because it’s you, I’ll give you a good deal on some pink oysters, too.”
Jie, who had forgotten about his mushroom order entirely, shook his head.
“No worries, friend. I’m only on errands and thought I might fetch some bread.”
Bryjer tilted his head, noticing Dari for the first time. He spoke, his voice melodic, his words indecipherable. Jie had never been able to get the hang of spoken Elvish.
Dari blinked, tugging at a braid.
“Huh. I’m sorry, little lilac,” Bryjer said, extending his hand to Dari. “You look a bit fae--I mean that as a compliment, don’t mistake me. But I guess fae’s the fashion these days. I’m Bryjer, as your friend here would’ve told you if he were brought up better.”
“Dari. Jie is being brought up to the good way, but is having to very a lot of the nervousness,”Dari smiled, taking Bryjer’s hand.
Jie watched, holding Dari’s hand as well as his breath, but the baker did not seem to feel anything unusual at Dari’s touch. He could not stop Dari from speaking--Bryjer would certainly mention such curt behavior to Sam, forcing Jie’s hand in revealing Dari’s unexplainable connection to him. Neither could he disentangle himself, sending her back into fragmented speech, without making a scene. Dari, seeming to have anticipated such a move, had slipped her fingers to twine with Jie’s with a firm grip.
“I do not have the thought I am being to the fae,” Dari said. “But I do not have the thought I am to do like to the fashion of the fae, either.”
“Not with that accent,” Bryjer laughed. “Unless there’s been a new set of immigrants I haven’t heard of. Your hair just grow in like that?”
“Your hair just grow in like that?” Dari shot back with a grin.
Bryjer laughed, throwing his long, auburn curls over his broad shoulder.
“I like her! But ugh, The Ones Who Listen, I need to send for my sisters if my hair-glamor has gone so bad humans can see through it. No offense, Jie,” Bryjer said.
“None taken,” Jie said, breathing at last.
“You are having to the hair with very a lot of prettiness,” Dari said. “I do not have to the thought you should to change to it.”
“I take it back, I love her,” Bryjer fawned. “Where are you from, then, little lilac? That accent of yours is almost as pretty as your eyes. Lower Vandalia, maybe with a fae great-great grandmother? No! Tlach? That pretty reddish-brown skin is all Tlachian, am I right?”
“We are in a bit of a hurry,” Jie lied, anxious to flee Bryjer’s questions, and worse, Dari’s answers. “What’s fresh today?”
“Today? Everything is fresh every day,” the elf protested. “Nah, I’m joking. The rye and clapbread are still warm, and the pandemain has another day or so in it. The julwas are close to being pig food, just take them, if you want some. You know Sumayah--she orders enough to feed an army, but they don’t always show.”
Dari had already popped a star-shaped sweet into her mouth before Jie could stop her.
“I have the thought the pigs would to be very a lot spoiled to eat this,” she said, spraying crumbs.
“My thoughts precisely. Take them all them, you’re a pretty little thing, but you’re too little. The rye bread, too, with apologies for the mushrooms,” Bryjer smiled. “As long as you promise to feed this one more.”
“She eats plenty!” Jie protested.
Bryjer scoffed.
“I could reach right around her waist with my hands, if she’d let me,” he scolded as Dari giggled. “Make sure Jie looks after you, little lilac, or we'll have words.”
“Thanking to you,” Dari smiled. “I am having the thought he will to take to the very a lot good care to me.”
Jie rolled his eyes.
“Come on, we have a lot more to do,” he said, steering her away from the elf’s inconveniently keen eye.
Jie had not taken a full step before he heard his name called from three small buildings down. Turning, staring straight ahead, he hoped to the Dead and Sleeping his playacting was convincing enough to deter Sumayah.
“Jie! I know you can hear me!” the woman demanded, catching up to him, clattering with bells and bangles. “Oh! And this is Dari!” she exclaimed, opening her arms to the girl. “My girl! Oh, Deliatus has told me so much, I feel as if I know you already.” Sumayah’s dark eyes glittered, ringed with kohl thicker and more elaborate than Deliatus’. Her broad smile revealed two teeth capped in gold, a match to the embroidered flowers on her loose, flowing black gown and matching headscarf. Sumayah pulled the girl close, touching her nose to one side of Dari’s, then the other. Dari returned her smile as Sumayah released her.
“Deliatus?” she parroted as Jie sighed relief.
“Oh, yes, habili! Deliatus and I are practically sisters, for so long as we have known one another. Tch, tch, she didn’t tell me you needed a new dress so badly, though. Jie, how could you let this poor love go out dressed this way? You know how men are!”
Jie gestured to himself with a scowl.
“Men, Jie, men,” Sumayah huffed. “Not you.”
“Am I not a man?” he demanded.
Sumayah wobbled her head.
“If you must be,” Sumayah said. “You’re Jie, more than anything. Take that for the compliment it is--you’ll see no men in evidence at my shop. But you, come, come, let the girl look.”
“We really are in a bit of a hurry,” Jie said, attempting to snag Dari’s elbow, but Sumayah had already linked her arm.
“Oh, I see the hurry you’re in,” Sumayah tutted, waving her hands at Dari's too-small dress. “Giving roaming anatomy lessons!”
“She picked it out herself,” Jie complained, following the women into Sumayah’s shop.
Dari’s eyes went wide at the rainbow of fabric bolts, breaking away from Jie to stroke the different colors and textures.
Jie was not, as a rule, uncomfortable in the general company of women, nor in spaces catering to female interests. He was, however, deeply uncomfortable offering preferences or opinions on women’s attire, a fate he was certain awaited him as Dari prattled to Sumayah among her fabrics. Sighting Lujain behind the counter, he felt he may weep with relief.
“Well met, Jie,” the healer nodded. Her dark eyes sparkled with the lively intelligence, like her sister's, though her face was bare of any paint or kohl, partially screened by a transparent, heather grey veil fitted across the elegant curve of her nose and tucked neatly into the neckline of her healer’s robes.
“Well met,” Jie agreed. “Alderson is cleared up, I take it?”
Lujain shrugged one shoulder.
“As clear as those loggerheads will get until they learn to wash their hands,” she shook her head. “Forgive me, that was most unprofessional. I've only been in a few hours and am quite exhausted. But I do tire of the same illnesses, the same advice, the same ignorance repeated over and over.”
“You’re only human, cousin,” Jie said. “Alderson lacks the benefit of your sister and Deliatus harassing anyone who does not take your advice seriously.”
Lujain laughed.
“That, and you, as well,” she pointed to Dari with her chin. “This girl, she is new, yes? I am told you were left to care for her in my absence. As my sister is selling her on the orange muslin, of all things, I wonder if she has suffered brain damage. I should like to examine her sometime soon.”
“Certainly!” Jie said, struggling against a manic edge in his feigned enthusiasm. “This is Dari’s first outing since her arrival, you otherwise know where to find us.”
Lujain gave Jie a long, searching look. A certain glint to her wide, dark eyes always reminded him she was a magic handler as well as a healer. In much the same way Sumayah made Jie an exception among men, Jie made Lujain an exception among magic handlers. Magic handlers--humans and dwarves, at least, those who were not born with magic but instead pursued it--made Jie nervous. For as much as Jie respected Lujain, for as much as he owed her of his more practical medical skills, the prospect of anything beyond a thoroughly unmagical examination of Dari made him queasy.
“Calm yourself, Jie. I’ll keep my meager magic off her unless the girl asks herself. As I understand it, she’s not in the habit of speaking cogently, yes?”
“That perhaps overstates her case. She can make herself understood,” Jie hedged.
“Curious,” the healer said, scratching her chin through her veil. “But consistent. Even from where I stand, it is obvious the girl is not concussed, and I doubt very much she has suffered any significant brain injury.”
Jie’s heart sank. Brain injuries, concussions--these were logical diagnoses, conditions he had researched and returned to since Dari’s arrival.
“How so?”
“See how she moves?” Lujain jutted her chin again. “She’s clumsy, yes, but she doesn’t shuffle, her movements are quite fluid, even when they propel her into walls. The brain injured move like Deparateds. Not like squirrels who’ve eaten too many fermented apples,” she said, nodding to Dari as she spun herself into a cocoon of flame orange fabric as Sumayah laughed.
“What a relief,” Jie lied.
“This is the one,” Sumayah called from across the room. “I’ll settle it with Deliatus.”
Jie opened his mouth to protest.
“Settle with Deliatus!” Dari parroted gleefully.
Lujain pursed her lips, wrinkling her veil.
“Of course,” he agreed quickly, holding his arm out to Dari. “Soon, ok? We’ve still a few errands to attend to.”
“I look forward to a proper chance to speak, Dari, habili,” Lujain said, offering Dari her muslin-gloved hand to clasp.
“A proper chance to speak,” Dari repeated with a grin as Jie gently dragged her away.
“Ok, last thing,” Jie said with a sigh. Dari’s enthusiasm, as well as the enthusiasm others seemed to have for her, was wearing on him. “We just need to arrange for some firewood to be delivered, then we’ll be shot of this whole ordeal.”
“This is not being to the ordeal,” Dari said, flouncing her skirts. “I have to met to the persons with the pleasant ways to them, and eaten to the the sweets, and will to get to the very a lot beautiful dress, I have the thought.” Patting Jie’s arm, she smiled. “And to spend to the day to you is being to the thing with loveliness.”
His anxiety and annoyance fading away, Jie patted Dari’s hand on her arm.
“Forgive me. I’m a bit of a homebody; market days are dull at best and trying at worst. Your company, at the very least, keeps things interesting. Here we are,” he said, nodding toward a stand where a slight middle aged man with a sparse thatch of red hair and skin like worn leather sat, bundles of dry branches and split firewood behind him.
Dari slowed as they approached the woodcutter’s stall. An unfamiliar heat cramped in her stomach.
The woodcutter stank of death.
Dari halted, as if her feet rooted themselves into the cobblestone.
“Dari, what’s wrong?” Jie asked, noticing Dari’s sudden shift in demeanor.
She shook her head, gripping Jie’s arm.
“I don’t have the liking to it,” she said, pointing at the woodcutter. “I don’t have to the feeling of liking to him”. Dari could hear her own heartbeat, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
“Harold’s a fine fellow. You two ought to get along well. He’s always out in nature. Even if you’ve no memory of it, you must have quite a lot of experience yourself, as dab a hand you are with bees,” Jie insisted. “I’m escorting you, remember? You’re safe with me.” He traced a circle to the back of her hand with his thumb, giving her a reassuring squeeze. He turned, searching her panicked face. She was overwhelmed, of course. The day had dragged on far longer than he’d intended. “Last stop, ok? Then we’ll go back to the Bough. You can lie down for a bit before this evening. I have some calming tea that would do you well.”
Dari nodded, forcing herself to return Jie’s smile. His patronizing nature wasn’t always such a bad thing, she considered, following him with slow, dragging feet.
“Ah, Jie! And you’ve brought a new friend!” the woodcutter called in greeting. “Harold,” the man said, stretching his hand to Dari.
“You put your hand in his, and you shake it a little bit, if you like,” Jie whispered. As neither Bryjer nor Sumayah's touch had inspired clearer speech in Dari, Harold did not inspire Jie's anxiety. “It’s just
way to say hello.”
Dari took the man’s hand. It was rough, rougher than Jie’s, sticky with pitch. The world went silent but for the furious beat of her heart, the ragged hitch of her breathing. Inside, Dari screamed to run, but her body would not respond. Disconnected from Jie, she tried to speak, choking and gasping. She dug her fingernails into the man’s wrist. Releasing him, she bent double, crossing her arms over her chest as she struggled to breathe.
“Dari?” Jie asked, “What’s the trouble?”
Harold made the sign of the Star and rushed from behind his stall.
“How can I help?” he asked, crouching, taking care to give Dari space.
Gaining control of herself, she rose, eyes blazing. She screamed, diving at Harold. She caught him by his forearm, her nails drawing blood. Swiftly, gently, Harold twisted his arm from Dari’s grasp, his eyebrows knit with concern despite his pain. Jie grabbed Dari around the waist, struggling to hold her back. Flailing, Dari kicked his shin.
A memory emerged, images of trapped animals, wolves gnawing at ensnared paws as men approached with an axe, a club. She had felt the despair, the rage of the wolf, who had been there first. Now, she felt like a trapped wolf--kicking, snarling, Dari fought, the piles of spiritless dead wood heaped behind this man smelling of slaughter. Cobblestones near the edge of the market square buckled, cracking with searching tree roots, unnoticed by distracted market-goers. The bundles of dried wood behind Harold fell from their neat stacks, knocked over in his haste to help--later, observing leaves still clinging to the kindling, how springy and green the wood was, he could not recall what had led him to believe his stock had been ready for the fire quite yet.
“I could give Lujain a holler,” Harold offered, the neighborly tone of his voice never faltering. “I’m sure she’s got somethin’ for fits. She’s just across the way,” he offered.
“Oh, um, yes, er, no,” Jie said, struggling with Dari. “Dari’s Sam’s cousin, from Amissopolis. She got on the wrong side of some bad magic. Gives her just a spot of trouble from time to time is all. She’s ok, right, Dari?”
Throwing her elbow into Jie’s stomach, Dari leapt at Harold, screaming in languages Jie could only guess at.
The square came to a stop to stare at the violet haired, scantily clad young woman assaulting the blameless woodcutter with her small fists and shouted gibberish. Jie stumbled over a raised cobblestone. Eyes wide, he watched the faint hairs of surface roots slip from a feathery crack in the masonry, searching like antennae.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Jie said, struggling to pull Dari away. His hands clamped over her bare arms, she shouted in Kanglais.
“Murderer! Slaughter! Killer!”
“Bad magic, eh? Terrible time the rest of the continent has had with the Lich,” he said, dodging a kick from Dari. “Poor girl, she seems lovely.”
“Lovely, lovely, lovely!” she screeched at Jie. “Lovely, and to this you bring to me?”
Wrenching herself free of Jie’s grasp, Dari sprinted across the square, toward the path to the woods and the forest beyond.
“Put you down for the usual, have it dropped off tomorrow? You ought to catch up with the girl,” Harold observed amiably. “Wouldn’t do for her to go gettin’ herself lost in the forest.” he shivered. “Wouldn’t do for anyone to go gettin’ lost way out there.”