Thieves at Heart Read online

CHAPTER 3

  FIRST IMPRESSIONS

  The deadbolt slid back, the door opened and Tavera peered up expectantly at the woman who stood in the doorway. Confusion tweaked at the little girl’s eyebrows as she considered the woman who smirked at Derk and then looked down blankly at her. Derk was grinning at this woman who wasn’t old at all. Her hair was brown and fell in soft curls around her rather round face and her skin was smooth, not wrinkled. The woman called both ‘Celeel’ and ‘Old Gam’ turned and walked into the apartment with a slight roll of her eyes, Derk giving Tavi a quick squeeze on the shoulder before they entered.

  “I’s hoping that the rumors were just that,” the woman said, her back turned toward them. Tavi gazed around the two-roomed home, various belongings piled and set around in a way that said it was in fact a home and not another room above a bar. A table and two chairs were the focus of the front room, an embroidered cloth draped over the tabletop. The chairs didn’t match in style but the wood was the same hue. One of them was pulled out and a bit of sewing lay on the seat, half done. Quilts hung on the wall across from the only window and a small fire burned in the fireplace, no doubt keeping whatever was in the black pot warm.

  Derk closed the door behind them and locked it, pulling off his hat, the face he was making at Tavera suggesting that she take off her outdoor clothes. “Rumors are always founded on some bit of truth, you should know that. You of all people.”

  “So what are the lies and what are the truths, Derk?” Tavera decided that Celeel had a warm smile but that it was weary and the little girl felt as if it was a smile she only had for Derk. “Have you eaten?” she asked them both, not waiting for him to answer. “It ain’t good to not eat, ’specially when you’re little.” She looked at Tavera over her shoulder as she fiddled with something on a smaller table that was kept by the fire. “How old are you?”

  Tavera just shrugged. She looked at Derk to see what he thought of the answer she had given and he just scratched his head, visibly uncomfortable. Celeel laughed, something between a chuckle and a cackle. “The two of you…eh?” She shook her head.

  “Aye, the two of us.” He pulled off his cloak and hung it on the back of the door before he moved the sewing and sat on the chair. The smile he tried to give Tavera was probably meant to be reassuring but all she could do was stand there and frown, not sure what to do.

  Old Gam looked at her again. “What, is she mute? I’ve heard otherwise but as long as she ain’t deaf, no harm done.”

  “She’s not mute,” Derk sighed. Blue eyes looked over the bit of sewing he had put on the table and he poked at it, grimacing at the stain he left with his finger. He tried to rub it out and shot a glance at Tavi, looking guilty and amused at the same time. Tavi pressed her lips together and tried not to laugh as well, her small hands covering her mouth.

  “You ain’t going to throw up, right? I hear small ones do that,” Old Gam said. She walked to the table with three plates, setting them down before she noticed the bit of stitching, Derk looking to the side as he tried to avoid what was quickly turning into a glare on her face. The woman just sighed and shook her head, disappearing into the other room while Tavi finally decided to take off her cloak. She had to jump to get it up on the peg but reached it on her third try, glad she hadn’t torn the garment on the peg as her feet hit the floor. Tavera heard Old Gam walking back into the room and the little girl felt her ears burn while she walked to the empty seat, sitting in front of the plate the woman had been kind enough to make for her.

  “An apprentice,” Old Gam said. She almost sang it and it made Tavera stare into her plate harder. It was cold roasted fish and barley cakes, with sweet onion paste to moisten the bread. Her stomach rumbled.

  “What, food and no drink?” Derk asked. For a second there was silence in the room, though the sounds of Portsmouth could be heard beyond the walls, keeping it from being too quiet. Whatever Old Gam was sitting on scraped against the wooden floor as she pushed it back. Tavera stole a glance at her pa. He was smiling at her again and he winked, tearing a bit of bread and fish and dipping it into the jelly before he licked his fingers. Old Gam returned to the table with a jug and two mugs.

  “I only have the two,” she said, setting one in front of herself and Derk, pouring what was probably the local thinny into his glass.

  “It’s alright, I’ll let her have the last bit of mine when I’m done,” he offered, watching as she filled the mug. He picked it up as soon as she pulled the jug away, taking a big swig. “Ah, refreshing. You get this from Three Fingers?”

  “Two Fingers, now. Dar got him for a digit three phases ago.”

  “Who cares? His wife says he’s better with his tongue anyway. And his beer’s still the best in Portsmouth.”

  “I’d rather have all my fingers,” Tavera finally said, frowning slightly. Old Gam and Derk both looked at her and for a moment she thought she had said something wrong but they both started laughing. Tavi shoved a bit of food in her mouth while they laughed, wondering what was so funny.

  “By Her hems, Derk, what do you think you’re doing with her?” Old Gam finally asked, rubbing her brow with her hand. Tavera took another mouthful, wondering who Old Gam was talking about, and she swallowed, realizing it was her.

  “Everything you’ve heard I’ve been doing with her,” Derk said, and it was almost a hiss. He tore another piece of bread off and gestured at Tavera with it. “Come on, Celeel. It’s not a bad idea.”

  “It’s a terrible idea. Firstly, she’s a child. Secondly, she looks nothing like you. You can’t even lie and say she’s your kin. Plus she’s part Forester. What could be more memorable than a blond loudmouth and a half-Forester girl that looks nothing like him gallivanting through Her creation?”

  “A child is easier to train than an adult and she’d already shown ability before I took her.”

  “Oh, so you were watching her before you made her your little chick. How very sweet, stalking children.”

  “I was NOT stalking her. I noticed her.”

  “Did you happen to notice her coloring? Does she remind you of anyone?” Gam’s voice lilted when she asked and Derk stared into his cup, sitting low in his chair. “Dark hair, that pretty skin. Eyes are off, but anyone that knew—”

  “Shut up,” Derk said. He was gripping his cup so hard that his knuckles were white and red, his voice as icy as his eyes. He looked to Old Gam and any other person would have been frightened by the look he was giving her. Old Gam just looked…sad. Derk cleared his throat and took a sip of his beer, still staring into it. “Tavi doesn’t look like…her. At all. I would know, of all people.” He set his eyes on Tavera now, as if to make sure what he said was true and she stared back, not sure who she was supposed to not look like. He leaned over the table and offered the cup to Tavi and a smile managed to poke at the corners of his mouth, trying to chase away the seriousness in the room.

  “Besides that…what else did you say? Ah, yes.” Derk turned his attention to his plate and set the rest of his fish on his bread, piling the onions on top. “There are plenty of mixed families in the Valley. We wouldn’t be the first mismatched family members to trample the Crescents. And the ears…well, only one is a giveaway. Easily covered by her hair once it’s longer, or a cloak. The skin, working in the sun too long. Some valleymen are given to a darker coloring.” He took a bite of his food, several of the onions sliding off and onto his chin, making her pa set his food down to clean his face.

  “Fine, so you have a little girl to teach, to tell all your stories to, to get your breakfast for you,” Old Gam said. She squinted at Tavera and the little girl could feel her eyes set on her ear, the one that had been cut, and her fingers went up instinctively, covering it with her dark hair. “To what end, Derk? Why?”

  “I thought that was the most obvious,” Derk said, eating the last of his food. He chewed and swallowed, wiping his hands on his pants before he burped quietly into his fist. “She’s to be my apprenti
ce.”

  “Did you start making hats behind my back, Derk?”

  “And one day,” he huffed, ignoring her joke, “she’ll be in the Cup.” Now he looked to Tavi, raising his blond eyebrows at her hopefully. A smile tugged at her mouth and she took a sip of the beer, finding it flat but tasty. Old Gam was looking at her, she knew it.

  “One day,” Old Gam said. “If she has any skill. And the desire. And if she gets people to vouch for her.” Tavi could hear Old Gam breathing, slow and measured as if trying not to get angry. “She knows about the Cup?”

  “She asked me about it!” Derk insisted. “I ran into Walik in Greyhollow and we got to talking. I’m telling you, she’s sharp! The Lipper was there too and she pieced it all out. She’s a sharp ear…no pun intended. Tavi pays attention, she’s good with her hands, she’s fast, she’s small so she can get in and out of spots. And that’s now! Give her a handful of years and she’ll outshine even me!”

  “What does Jezlen think of all this?” Old Gam took her plate and Derk’s, Tavi still working on her portion. Derk just snuffed, digging in his bag. Tavi knew he was looking for his pipe and he found it, pulling it out of his pack with a tug, poking the bowl with his finger.

  “Since when do you care what Jezlen thinks?” Derk asked, trying to find his tobacco. Tavera shoved the rest of her food in her mouth and chewed, drinking her drink to make it go down easier. “Tavi, don’t shove so much in your mouth, you’ll choke,” he said, pointing at her with his pipe.

  “You are the proud papa, aren’t you?” Old Gam snickered. This time she came back with her mug and a bottle of something else, steam rising from the mug. “So, what does the big elf think about the little elf?”

  “Well,” Derk started. He pushed the tobacco into his pipe and stood up from the table, walking over to the fireplace for a light. The fire colored him orange and he plucked a smoldering stick from the fire and set his pipe. “At first, he thought I was crazy.”

  “So…Jezlen thinks you’re crazy. And you still took her on?”

  Jezlen. Jezlen was the man who had helped her father save her from her attacker. He had the crossbow and the scarf across his face and gray eyes. He had seemed sympathetic toward her then, called her ‘little one.’ But she knew that Jezlen and Old Gam didn’t like each other. The two men had joked about it while she clung to Derk, trying to dry her tears and snot on his shoulder. He had seemed kind. Derk’s stories said otherwise. The elf was frustrating beyond all belief and sounded crazy, though all the stories Derk told of him ended in laughter. That was the way things were, supposedly. In the end, you looked back at them and laughed. So far nothing in Tavera’s life made her laugh, though a few memories made her smile. Most of them had been made with Derk in their short stint together.

  “First of all, I didn’t just ‘take her on’ as you keep on saying. I’ve adopted her. As my daughter.”

  “Have you taken vows before the Goddess?”

  “What?” Derk puffed on the pipe and the sweet, herbal smoke began to fill the room. “No, we didn’t take vows. D’you think that’s smart, me going into a temple and having four priestesses bear witness to me and her starting a family? She’s been with me for less than seven phases, and I don’t need a priestess to bear witness to my intentions with Tavera.”

  “And what are your intentions with Tavera?”

  “Have you been paying attention this whole time, Gam?” Derk squinted at her as if she were stupid and they locked eyes on each other, another gulp of silence filling the room. “I am going to raise her as my daughter, I am going to teach her to be a better thief and she will eventually become a member of the Cup. They won’t be able to turn her down.”

  “You don’t know that for sure, Derk,” Old Gam said. “And besides, what father raises his daughter to be a thief?”

  “What parent doesn’t wish for their child to follow in their footsteps?”

  “How many parents are thieves?”

  “More than would admit it, Celeel.” Another pause filled the room and Tavera finished her drink, wondering how long Old Gam and Derk had known each other, that they could talk without talking. It must have been a long time indeed because the silence dragged on and Derk puffed on his pipe in an irritated way. Tavera was starting to pick up on what anger did to Derk’s face and it was there, making his eyes dark and his face tight. The little girl could feel her stomach fluttering, as if the fish had come back to life as nervousness rose in her belly. What if Old Gam was right? What if the Cup of Cream wouldn’t take her? And if Derk realized that now, what would happen to her? He had rescued her twice now but he hadn’t made any vows, had he? Tavera didn’t want to start crying, not here in this woman’s eating room. Old Gam’s opinion obviously mattered and she couldn’t have the woman thinking she was meant for swaddling clothes. So the girl just stared at the cloth that was on the table, trying to think about something else.

  “What does Hock think about all this?”

  “Tits, so many hemming questions!” Derk shouted. He threw his hands in the air and walked to the door, grabbing his cloak.

  “Where’s you going?” Tavera asked as loudly as she could manage, a touch of panic making her sit straight up in her seat. Derk fastened his cloak about his neck and pulled the hood up, looking to Gam with a bit of ire still in his eyes.

  “Night prayers,” he said, pulling back the latch on the door. “I’ll be back before bed, don’t worry.” He gave Old Gam another look of anger before he opened the door with a yank, letting it slam behind him.

  Tavera felt her guts unravel within her as fear stuck in her throat. But Old Gam chuckled and said, “Good, he’s gone. Now it’s just us girls.” Tavera looked at her, frowning, not understanding for a moment but Old Gam winked at her. Tavera pressed her lips together, not sure what to expect from Old Gam. The woman cleared her plate and picked up her sewing, sitting in Derk’s seat and looking over the bit of needlework. “Do you know how to sew?” she asked, not bothering to look up.

  Tavera just shook her head and Old Gam shook hers and made a sound with her tongue against her teeth in disapproval. “You should learn. It’s good to know how to do many things. Besides snatch.” Now Old Gam looked at her, brown eyes looking at the little girl almost kindly. “Besides, Derk is not exceedingly handy with a needle and thread. You should take care to learn.” She stood up and dug around in the box she had been sitting on and pulled out a needle, thread and piece of fabric, taking the few steps she needed to set them before Tavera. “Maybe you can make a little pillow or something. For a doll.”

  “I ain’t got no dolls,” Tavera said, staring down at the items helplessly. Her hands were still a bit greasy and she wiped them on her skirt, Old Gam making another sound of disapproval.

  “No dolls? And how has he got you dressed? Stand up now!” Tavera huffed before she stood up, hands together and held in front of her. She could manage to hold her head up at least and she did, looking at the woman. Closer up Tavi could see freckles on Old Gam’s face. Stray curls tinted with blond and no makeup made Gam’s features warm and natural. Her brown eyes looked the little girl over. There was a bit of humor in them and a bit of disapproval. “Your hair’s too short. But he found you that way, didn’t he?” Tavera nodded, not wanting to admit the reason why her hair had been shorn all those phases ago lest the woman fear for her own hair. “An ash-dyed dress. If you knew how to sew, you could have prettier clothes, like me. Like all little girls want.” Tavera just shrugged in reply. She didn’t mind the clothes she had. They were warm and they mostly fit. It was big around the middle so many a snatched item had made its way into the top, stopped by a simple sash tied above where her hips would eventually be.

  “Plus you could turn one dress into another piece altogether. A bit of lace, a ribbon. Maybe a dip in dye if you have the time.” Tavera noticed the needlework around the neckline of Old Gam’s dress. Starbloom danced along the edges of the fabric, the stitches in what had once
been white. “This dress used to be barley brown and now look.” The dress was blue now, much to Tavera’s surprise. She knew that people dyed fabric to make it different colors. Sheep and goats only came in a few colors but never in blue or green or yellow. “There’s more to taking than just taking, is what I’m trying to tell you, little one,” Old Gam said, pushing the sewing toward her again, gesturing for her to sit down. Tavera sat down with a thump, knocking the sewing off the table as she did. “There’s transforming, there’s changing over. Quickly and with the right people.” She handed the sewing back to Tavera. “See if you can sew a circle, dear.” Tavera looked down at the fabric, wondering how she was going to lay it flat.

  “D’you have something to…keep the cloth tight?” Tavera asked, holding the needle in her hand. Old Gam smiled and set her own work down, retreating into the back room for a moment. Tavera noticed she didn’t bring a light into the room and figured the woman knew the layout of the chamber and its contents by heart. The woman opened something large and moved things around, returning with two wooden hoops, one slightly smaller than the other. She took the fabric from Tavera and laid it over the smaller hoop, pushing the larger hoop over the fabric to keep it in place. The corners of Tavera’s mouth lifted slightly, seeing the fabric laid out before her, imagining the circle that could be.

  “So, you can smile?” Old Gam said, laughing. She sat back down, arranging her skirts under her before she took up her work again, sewing quickly as she spoke. “It’s also important to have the right tools. It’s good that you asked for the hoop, Tavera. No point in making things harder for yourself. If there’s a tool, use it. The Goddess knows that Derk uses them when he can. He stole some tools of mine once. Never bothered trying to replace them, did he? Rummaged through my things and when I awoke, they were both gone.”

  They both sat there sewing for a few breaths, Tavera watching Old Gam’s hands occasionally as she thought about what Old Gam had said about Derk and trying to figure out why she had said it. Derk had spoken positively of Old Gam on their way to Portsmouth but in their short conversation she had been harsh with him, trying to get him to leave. For what? To get Tavera alone to see if she could sew a circle? Tavera squinted her eyes and drew the thread up, careful to leave a tail so as not to undo her work.

  “Do you know what being in the Cup of Cream is all about, Tavera? Or Kiffer? He calls you that sometimes, right?” They both kept sewing and Tavera imagined the circle in the fabric, pushing the needle through and up again.

  “It’s about taking things and being happy about taking them. It’s about being the best,” Tavi said finally. She was halfway done with the circle.

  “And it’s about getting rid of the worst.” Tavera nodded at Old Gam’s words though to be honest, she wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Derk had mentioned it but had never laid out who ‘the worst’ really was. During their phases together she had seen him deal with some characters that might be considered the worst, laughing with them, playing cards with them, buying their drinks and cheating them out of their money. He used them as lessons for her, telling her who to watch for what, asking her what she noticed about them and rewarding her with a piece of dried fruit or a treat if she caught something exceedingly difficult. When she noticed that Dip bit his bottom lip when he was considering bolting for the door, she was given a whole blueie to spend on whatever she wanted. She still had it, tucked into her boot. It wasn’t the best place to hide it, she knew. But at least it was hidden.

  “Weak animals are always culled from the herd,” Old Gam said. She could look at Tavera and sew at the same time which made Tavera’s ear perk, impressed. “Too many fleas and the dog will scratch. Do you understand?” Tavera heard the questions and she thought she understood. Skinny little fingers pushed the needle through the fabric and back through.

  “So…the Cup also gets rid of bad takers. But….” Tavera’s large mouth frowned, a question forming in her young mind. “If they’s only good takers, won’t the law take notice? And answer them, skill for skill?”

  Old Gam laughed again, her laugh that was a mixture of a chuckle and a cackle, reaching over and pushing Tavera’s hair behind her good ear. “You are smart, aren’t you?” Old Gam stopped before she said something, Tavera saw it on her mouth and in her eyes but she held back. “The key is balance,” she continued, going back to her needlework. “If there were only excellent takers scheming in the cellars and bars of the Valley they would all fight among themselves and yes, you’re right. The swordholders would notice and have to act accordingly. The locks would get better, the risks would be higher, which some wouldn’t mind. But the fact of the matter is, there will always be other kinds of takers. Some are middling good, some aren’t half bad, some are terrible. And they all have their reasons. Some need to feed their families and are forced to take. They generally stick to food, things they can easily sell. Some take for others. They work for other people, for someone else’s pocket.” Again, Old Gam paused, letting the statement hang in the air. Tavera felt as if it were supposed to bother her but it didn’t. The little girl kept on sewing, her circle almost complete.

  “And some do it for themselves. Because it’s fun.” That was why Tavera took, more than for need. That’s what had pushed Tavera’s little hand forward that first time ever. She hadn’t been hungry and the street vendor was closing up, putting the unsold tarts away into a crate to take home. The market day had been winding down and so the amount of people on the street was starting to dwindle.

  As always, no one seemed to notice the little girl with the greasy black hair so she waited till he had space for three more tarts in the crate before she started walking toward the stand, reaching for it right when he had turned around to put the little crate on the cart, the filling smashing into her palm as she grabbed it, and walking away as steadily as she could, the pace of her legs slower than the thumping in her chest. Prisca had asked her where she had gotten it but Tavi had shrugged and offered it to her in order to divert her questions. But the first time had led to a second and a third and soon Prisca had caught on and showed her the little crawl space in the room.

  “Yes, there’s the thrill. Probably one of the few kinds of thrills you can have, being your age.” Old Gam smirked at this and gave her a look, a look that Prisca had given her sometimes when bringing up her age. “But it’s only thrilling if you don’t get caught, little one. Get chased but don’t get caught. Ever. Let the bad ones get caught, to keep the browncloaks happy, to make them think they’re doing their job just right. The sloppy ones, the cruel ones, let them all have their turn in the dregs. The worst. They ruin it for everyone, my dear. Not just people like Derk and I.” The woman’s hands stopped moving and she smoothed the fabric out, looking it over, a stray brown curl falling into her face. “Tell me, Tavera, who is the worst person you know?”

  Tavera stopped sewing. She was a few stitches from being done but the question was put to her and she had to think about it. Plenty of people had been mean to her but she hadn’t received the worst treatment out of all the people she had met in her short life. She still had all her fingers and toes. She heard some block lords sometimes took them from people who owed debts. Maybe the man who had taken her from her father was the worst, though she didn’t know his name. And she barely recalled her own father’s face. Did that make her the worst person she knew? A little girl who couldn’t remember her blood father’s face?

  “Who cut your ear?” Old Gam asked. Tavera tightened up as the question shot through her, sharp as any knife and just as cold. She pressed her lips together and stared down at the circle she had sewn, just two stitches needed to finish it. Old Gam placed her sewing on the table and she put her hands on the edges of her own skirts, lifting them up to show a pale leg. Fine brown hair grew on her skin and several moles dotted it but as she pulled up the garment, a large, pink scar appeared, the remnants of a burn long healed but still ugly. Tavera wasn’t sure if she was supposed to look away o
r not but she felt compelled to stare.

  “When I was born,” Old Gam said, breaking the spell of the horrible scar but still holding Tavera’s attention. “I had a birthmark on my leg. It covered my whole thigh and it was blue, believe it or not, or so I recall. Probably closer to purple. In any case, my pa was a very strange man with strange ideas, which is why he moved my ma and me and my little sister to the Freewild shortly after she was born. A holy man, he called himself. Sent by the Goddess Herself to rid the Valley of the taint of the evil ones. Mind you, he most loudly proclaimed this when he’d drank a bit of the Goddess’ gift, if you hear me.

  “Well, my pa started to say that I was marked for evil. The birthmark was proof of it and he went on to say my mother must have done something to taint the offspring so. He went on and on, condemning us, shaking things at us. Sometimes he built fires in the forest and danced around them under the moon in self-styled robes. We heard about it from the other villagers. Other times he would leave us, to rid himself of us evil ones. Sometimes my ma kicked him out. But Lover’s Day would come and the cold always drove him in.”

  Old Gam stood up and walked over to the little hearth, shaking her skirts back into place. A small pile of twigs and wood was stacked by it and she threw in a few, not cowing before the flames as they leaped up to lick at the fuel. “Well, one night,” she started again, watching the fire as she stood there, her skirt painted orange by the light. “We were all sleeping in the bed together as we were wont to do to keep warm in the cold times. I didn’t even hear him. But I saw him standing over me, the light from the coals he dropped on my leg making his face glow like something from the Goddess’ hems, eyes wild, mouth wide in a judgmental scream. And then his eyes were wide not with fervor but pain. My mother hadn’t thought to put the coals out on my legs but she did kill him. She broke his back with the ax. You don’t mess with a woman from the Freewild. I passed out from the pain shortly after. They got me to a priestess in the Valley proper for healing but there was no medicine for him. No moonflowers grew over his grave. Just the fluttering of dark wings, I suppose.”

  Old Gam came back to the table and sat down. She set her elbows on her knees and laid her head in her hands, gazing at the little girl before her. “So you see, we have something in common. We’ve had people mistreat us. I doubt you did anything to deserve such a cut, you don’t seem very insolent and you seem very fast.” Old Gam raised her brows at her. “So…who did it?”

  Tavera could feel her mouth dry out and she wished she hadn’t drunk all of her beer. Her heart thumped in her chest and she traced a skinny finger around the circle she made, wishing she could finish it and wondering when Derk would be back. But Old Gam was staring at her and she had asked and she had shared. Tavera could still imagine the scar on the woman’s skin and she couldn’t help but feel her own skin crawl and pull tight and itch on her legs. Biting her lip, she cleared her throat and forced herself to speak.

  “I…when I’s with my father’s debt holders, they cut it. And they sent it to him. Since he couldn’t read. To make him pay. I…” She sucked in her breath and held it for a moment before she spat the last bit out. “I don’t think he ever paid. So they sent me to the Blocks.” Everyone knew what the Blocks were. Tavera had gotten off easy for a little girl from the ’Wicks. Orchard work, gleaning, fish gutting and finally…sausage making. She still hated sausages to this day. Tavera put her hand up to where her ear was cut and frowned.

  “There, there,” Old Gam said. She sat up and knelt beside the little girl and she hugged her, letting Tavi bury her face in her neck. Old Gam smelled like milk and sleepspice and Tavera tried to remember what her mother and father had smelled like but could only remember Derk. His skin, the tobacco he smoked, the oil he put in his hair and the iceleaf he chewed sometimes, occasionally mixed with alcohol.

  “And don’t you think that people like that…they give the rest of us a bad name, don’t they? Not every person from the Freewild is like my pa and not every gambler and debt taker is like those people who did this to you.” Old Gam smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And if you’re good at what you do and as clever as Derk says you are and you stay sparkling like you are, you’ll get to set things right. And have fun on the side.” Her brown eyes strayed down to Tavera’s lap and she smiled. “Look, you’re almost done. I’ll make you a bedtime drink. Derk’ll be back soon.” She ruffled her hair with her hand, and it made Tavera grimace with annoyance which, in turn, made Old Gam laugh. She went back to the kettle and threw some herbs in and stirred it with a wooden spoon, coming back to sit while it steeped.

  Tavera finished her circle and she smiled at it, a crooked little smirk. A circle was harder than a square, she told herself, and she had made a perfect circle. Tavera had decided she had admired her work enough and was about to hop out of the chair when Old Gam spoke up. “Has he ever mentioned a woman named Sindra?”

  Tavera shook her head and looked at Old Gam’s face, trying to figure out what she was looking for. Derk hadn’t mentioned anyone by that name. “I don’t think so,” she said finally. “Just you.” The little girl’s words made color come to Old Gam’s cheeks though she didn’t look up from her work. Tavera stood next to Old Gam and looked over her shoulder at her work. It was a handkerchief with daggerleaf crawling over the edges in a pale green, the red flowers popping at the corners. “Who was she?” she asked, not sure if she should say the name. Was that the woman she was supposed to look like?

  Old Gam just sighed, managing a few more stitches as she did. “Just some woman your pa used to fancy when he was younger. I never met her but she was around, if you catch my meaning.” A bit of annoyance showed in Old Gam’s face. Apparently she didn’t like to be on the receiving end of some questions. Tavera focused on the handkerchief Gam was sewing, surprised to see the progress the woman had made in the short amount of time.

  “You’re good at this,” Tavera said finally. A circle was one thing but a straight line of various shapes was something different altogether. Plus Old Gam didn’t sew up and down as Tavera did. Her thread looped around and collected in chains and sometimes the stitches ran next to each other to give the effect of smoothness, filling in little pools of color on the square of cloth.

  “I know,” Old Gam said, pleasure with the compliment dripping from her words. “I’ve been doing this a long time. Longer than you.” Their eyes met and Tavera took a step back, seeing something hard in Old Gam’s eyes she hadn’t expected to see. Just as she took the step back a knock came on the door and then Derk popped his head in, his familiar grin setting Tavera’s nerves back to normal.

  “You ladies doing alright?” Derk asked, stepping in and taking off his cloak. He shook it out before he set it on the peg, running a hand through his hair before he looked at them both, smiling. “What’d I miss? You get to sewing, Tavi?”

  Tavera nodded and walked over to him, showing off the circle she had made, trying hard not to grin too hard with pride. He took it up in his hands, the rough skin scratching against the fabric as he held it gingerly, looking at it before he set his eyes on her. “You did this, Tavi? Well, this is just…I didn’t know you was a seamstress as well as a cunning little girl! You could sew coins into your clothes this way, d’you know that? This is a very good circle!” He pulled his chair over to Old Gam and sat on it backward, straddling the seat as he looked at the handkerchief. “And more of the same delicate work, beautiful as always.” He took one of Old Gam’s hands and kissed her fingers and Tavi saw him bite her knuckles gently, which made Old Gam laugh. “Celeel, you could get a job in a keep, I swear on Her tits. Any baron would be more than happy to have your work on his tunics and britches. A priestess maybe.”

  “I started doing work for the priestesses of the temple, actually,” Old Gam said in a matter-of-fact way, as she sewed a few more stitches, lowering her eyes at Derk in a way that was supposed to be demure. “Just the everyday clothes, though they might want me to do the altar c
loth for Lover’s Day.”

  “Really?” Derk’s eyes went wide and he looked to Tavera. “Did you hear that? What an honor! Oh, speaking of the temple,” Derk said, standing up quickly from the chair. Standing upright in one fluid motion, he spun the chair back to its original position with a light touch of his hand, making Tavera giggle with his showmanship. “They was selling these outside the temple and I thought you might like one.” He patted his hands against his chest and pulled out a small carved stone, the impression of a lantern carved into it. “You know about the story of the Goddess as the light-bringer, I trust.”

  Tavera nodded and looked over the smooth white stone, feeling how cool it was in her hand and how it was warming against her skin. “The…the Goddess walked along the night and saw how scared the people was in the dark and how they cried. So she went to her brother, the sun, and asked him for a bit of light for the people in the night, asking for mercy. Her brother said he couldn’t, saying they would love him more if they saw him less and turned her away. So in the night she crept to where he kept his flame and she stole it, just a handful which burnt her hands black, but she ran with it back to her realm of the night. She lights the night sky for everyone and every month goes back to steal more light for her people, that they might not fear the dark. And sometimes the moon is red because he catches her and they fight and he bloodies her.”

  “Beautiful. I don’t think I’ve heard a priestess tell the story better,” Derk said. He walked over to her and took her by the hand, her hand so small in his, and he spun her around to imaginary music, making her dizzy and pulling a laugh out of the little girl. “Tomorrow we’ll go by the temple so you can make your offering and yes, before Old Gam insists, you and I will go see someone else for a different sort of blessing.” Tavera stood there dizzily and Derk crouched down before her, looking at Old Gam over his shoulder. “He’s in Bluemist, isn’t he?”

  “On personal business is what I heard,” Old Gam said. She shook out her skirts and walked over to the fireplace, pulling the pot off the fire with a metal hook and setting it on the small stand. “He’ll be happier to have you find him in Tyestown. And there’ll be more for the girl to do there.”

  “Bluemist is pretty though. The mists do look blue as they rise off the lake, I’ve seen them. If there was a list of the prettiest places in the Valley that were actual places, it would be one of them.” He walked over to her with the mugs, holding them while she ladled the drink in, steam rising off. “I’d probably add on Northtown for its view of the Holy Bowl.”

  “The view from the Freewild is better,” Gam said, pouring milk into both mugs. “And please, do wait for it to cool before you drink this, you stupid man.” He crossed his eyes at her and walked over to Tavera with the mugs, blowing over the top of his as he walked to the table.

  “Too bad there’s nothing in the Freewild but nameless towns and jackasses too stupid or too miscreant to stay in the Valley proper.” Derk set a mug in front of Tavera and she blew across the top of it, smelling the spices and herbs in the drink. “In any case what would you rather see, Tavi? Some blue mist, maybe get some fish stew? Or Tyestown? They have some of the nicest dance halls in the Valley and I do know how you like to move those feet of yours.” He kicked her under the table and picked up his mug, taking a sip and screwing up his face as it burned his mouth.

  Tavera could only nod enthusiastically, wondering what the dance halls of Tyestown looked like. The ’Wicks had several but their steps were always kept clear of children and people not associated with the establishment. It was a place for merrymaking and music. The streets around the halls were kept lit and free of drunks and beggars, usually in contrast to the dark dealings done in the basements or attics of the buildings. A baron’s town would probably have a grand dance hall, wouldn’t it? And plenty of people selling and buying and trading, plenty of pockets to check out.

  “It’s getting late, Tavera, so best you drink up and get ready for bed,” Derk chided, drinking his mug in a few quick gulps. “You’ll sleep out here and Gam and I’ll be back there.” He gestured toward the back room with his chin. Old Gam ducked into the back room and Tavera could hear her going into the trunk again, things moving in the back.

  “Can I have some more thread?” Tavera asked, her shyness finally melted away. Derk reached forward to clean her mouth with his hand. Tavi looked to Old Gam and pleaded without words. Old Gam cocked her head to the side and set the quilts she had in her arms on the floor.

  “I suppose you may. Glad you’re enjoying the sewing.” She did in fact look pleased and she went into the back again as Tavera pulled off her boots and socks, untying her skirt so she was in her tunic only, way too long for her and covering her skinny thighs and knobby knees. When Gam came out and saw her legs she laughed, hard. “Derk, you must feed this girl more! Are you going to use her to pick a lock?” Tavera stuck her tongue out at Gam when she wasn’t looking, tired of being called skinny, but Derk just gave his little girl a look, silently urging her to put her tongue back in her mouth.

  “I take that to mean you’ll be feeding us in the morning then?” Derk said. He put his mug in the bowl on the stand and started to undo the buckles of his boots, smiling at Gam. She rolled her eyes at him before she went into the back room, closing the curtain behind her. Derk shook his head and turned his attention to Tavera, pulling his boots off and undoing his belt.

  “Don’t stay up too late, Tavi, we’ve a lot to do tomorrow. You can sew on the way to the town. No arguing. We have to go to temple and then find a ride and people like to leave early, you know that.” He pulled his shirt over his head and hung it over the chair, pulling his dagger out of his boot and setting his boots under the chair.

  “I can sleep in the back of the cart,” Tavera reasoned, letting her head fall to the side. Her hands were still on the cloth and needle. Derk shook his head and arranged the quilts on the floor to make a bed for her.

  “What if we don’t find a cart? What if we have to walk? Eh?” Derk lay on the pile of quilts to test it, sitting up and switching the one on the bottom for the top one. “I’m not going to carry you, I’m not.”

  “There’s no way we’d ever walk all that way!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Derk put his hand on the side of her head and gave her a gentle push, a silly gesture, and she just slapped his hand away, laughing. “Besides, I weigh such a bit, just roll me up and put me in your pack. I bet I weigh less than a pair of boots.”

  “I’m glad you’re in good spirits but please, be a good girl and go to bed.” He gave her a kiss on the top of her head and stood up, his arms crossed over his bare chest, watching as she crawled into the quilts and wiggled around in them, trying to warm them up. They smelled like herbs, the kind that kept moths out, and she pulled the quilts up higher till only the top of her head stuck out, dark hair splayed against a patchwork of green and pink and yellow. “I like when you smile, Tavi,” she heard Derk say. “Are you happy?”

  She nodded under the blankets and felt him pat her on the head, smiling under the quilts. His footsteps grew quieter but she could feel the creak of the floor as he walked away, the rustling of the curtain that was the makeshift door. Tavera moved the blankets and quilts back, too hot to stay under them for too long. Her good ear perked up as she made out the whispering of adults in the next room, deep- and middle-toned voices taking turns in the dark. The hearth was glowing in the front room and Tavera could still see. She heard them talk for a long time, a few laughs drifting on the air. The little girl could be patient and she waited until the laughs came a bit closer together. Then the talking stopped altogether though the bed was creaking.

  Tavera crept out of her bed and walked to the door, remembering which boards made noise, and sidestepped toward her cloak. As soon as she was sure she could reach it she leaned forward, grabbing a hold of the heavy fabric and giving it a quick flick to get it off the peg. The cloak hopped off the peg into Tavera’s hands and she took the few steps
to get back into her bed quickly, sitting on top of the quilts this time. She cocked an ear toward the bedroom, listening. They were still involved with one another; so as long as she was quiet they would probably fall right asleep when they were done. Too excited to sleep and by the light of the hearth, Tavera reached into her boot, pulling out the small blue coin Derk had given her. With quick, skinny fingers she placed the coin against her cloak and began sewing it into the fabric, imagining the circle she would create as she pushed the needle in and out.

  Tavera was very tired the next morning. She didn’t recall falling asleep but Derk had nudged her awake with his toe and she woke with a start, her sewing and needle still her hand. He didn’t chide her but he did raise his eyebrows, blue eyes narrowed in disapproval. She could only smile sheepishly.

  Breakfast was porridge and toasted bread with honey on top. Tavera gobbled everything so fast Derk had to tell her to slow down. After they ate they packed their things to leave. Gam gave Derk the daggerleaf handkerchief she had embroidered and she gave Tavera a few loops of colored thread, a needle and some fabric. She gave Derk a kiss on the mouth that he returned and she pinched Tavera, which made Tavera stick her tongue out at her to her face and the woman laughed. “Remember our talk, Tavi,” she said. Derk kissed her again and they left.

  “What did you two talk about?” he asked on their way to the temple. The air felt cold but the aromas of the town waking up wafted from windows and mixed with the scents of the streets. Tavera had the rock he had given her in her hand, still cool on her skin. People were baking bread and she wanted some. Would they get food before they found a cart?

  “Didn’t you two talk before you went to bed?” she asked, scrunching up her nose. Derk stood up straighter and grabbed the straps of his pack, hopping over a rather questionable puddle and taking Tavi’s hand to help her over it.

  “Well, a bit, but I don’t recall all of it. I don’t know if you noticed but she generally likes to be the one asking the questions.” They walked for a little bit more, turning a corner. Tavera saw the temple at the end of an alley, the whitewashed steps inviting them in. Derk cleared his throat. “Is that really who did that to you, Kiff? To your ear?”

  Tavera gnawed the inside of her cheek as they walked, not sure what to say. One look at Derk’s face and the little girl suddenly felt guilty and she shook her head. “No. I…I lied to Gam.” She looked back at Derk and waited to hear what he would say, wondering if she had done the right thing in both cases. At first the man looked confused, but it quickly gave way to relief. He nodded and then skipped over to her side of the alley, putting his arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze.

  They reached the temple steps, beggars and priestesses standing around while a few of the brass stood on the street level, still selling their wares when people were making the morning bread. Derk nodded his head in greeting to all of them. He held Tavera’s hand as they both walked up, squeezing it gently as they crossed the threshold.

  Tavera looked at the holy water and dunked her whole hand in, wiping it on her forehead and her heart. Derk dipped his fingers in only, choosing to just touch his fingertips to his forehead and heart as they were supposed to do, giving Tavera another look of admonishment. She sucked on her bottom lip and clutched the stone in her hand.

  It was quiet in the temple, several people praying with their hands over their hearts. This temple had a statue of the Goddess standing in a boat. Most of the temples by the water had the Goddess standing in a boat, the gentle crescent shape under her feet, a lantern in the right hand. Some depictions would have her with her left hand empty and held to the side, bidding the worshipers to go their way, unburdened.

  Tavera had seen them but never prayed at one. This one, though, held the silver knife, hilt toward the temple, the silver blade laid against her black, holy hand. Some said it was for gutting fish and indeed, little stone fish popped around the wooden boat, ready to submit to the Goddess’ wishes and feed her children. But the Mysteries said the knife was meant as a tool of prayer.

  Tavera stared at the knife in the Goddess’ hand, the hilt toward her, and she wondered what she would do if she was given a knife. Would she use it to give someone bad what they deserved? Or would she use the knife the way the priestesses sometimes told the laypeople to use it: to cut the past away. She looked to the side and Derk stood there, his eyes closed. What would Derk do? Did Derk hate anyone? Tavera knew what Old Gam would do. But what did Tavera want? The lantern was meant to light her path and the offering stone was in her hands. Tavera bit her bottom lip and threw the stone toward the boat, the stone landing within with a thunk and a splash of water.

  She looked to Derk and smiled. Derk smiled back at her and they left the temple together, quietly slipping out past those praying, nodding to the priestess at the door as they left. A few blocks away were the carts heading out of the town and though Derk didn’t find one heading to Tyestown, he found one heading in that general direction. He made Tavera wait by the cart while he slipped away for a spell, and he returned with a bag of stuffed buns. The first one Tavera bit into was filled with sausage and she gagged, spitting up onto the ground. Derk patted her head and tried to smile for the cart driver, assuring him that she wouldn’t do that on the journey. The next bun was tested before he handed it to her and this one was filled with fruit and nuts. They hopped into the back of the cart with the barrels of oil and settled in as it lurched forward and started down the road.

  Derk lay in the back, setting his head against his pack and putting his hat over his eyes, apparently intent on sleeping once again. Blue eyes peered out from under the brim as Tavera looked over her sewing things, her mouth twisting and moving with thought. “You like being with me, right, Kiff? You’re my girl?”

  Tavera smiled and nodded enthusiastically, showing her teeth when she smiled. Derk smiled back sleepily and let his hat fall over his face. Soon he was snoring. Tavera looked over the fabric and the thread and before she could think about it too much she dropped them all over the side of the cart. The sky was finally blue, the haughty sun shining overhead and lighting the day as it wished. Tavera wouldn’t hold it against him. She pulled the playing cards out of Derk’s pack and dealt herself a hand of Four Seasons, singing to herself as they bumped along the road.