After everyone came to realize that Grozier, Evester, and Denrick had been responsible for Jithelle Skolotti's death, Hetta had invited Nimra and Mirolyn to come live with the Matrells. She had insisted that Nimra be made comfortable as a way of setting things right for the woman. Both women had seemed very grateful, and Mirolyn had even found a way to make herself useful, taking on the role of nanny for the twins. It was a far better life than the Skolottis had ever known before.
They're probably annoying the goldfish again, Emriana thought as she crossed the grass to join her niece and nephew.
Obiron spied the girl first and gave her a quick wave before turning back to peer into the pond again. Emriana could see that the boy had his crossbow out, holding it ready. That surprised her a bit.
"I thought your mother told you that you could not play with that," she commented as she rode up beside Obiron.
"She changed her mind," Quindy announced on her brother's behalf without looking up.
Puzzled, Emriana glanced over at Mirolyn, who shrugged. "Marga said it was all right," the woman explained. "He's been trying to shoot the goldfish."
"Obiron Matrell," Emriana began sternly, "if you shoot one single fish in that pond, I will take that crossbow away from you and snap it in two!" Obiron turned to gaze at Emriana, saying nothing. The look unnerved the girl, but she refused to back down. "If you want to hunt something, Vambran can take you hunting when he gets back from Chessenta. We have dire-jaguars roaming the woods here," she added conspiratorially, hoping that might interest the boy more than goldfish.
"It's all right. He never hits them," Quindy said, still not looking up at Emriana. The girl was standing on the edge of the pond, gazing down between the lilies and cattails that grew in abundance right along the bank. "You should let him play, or else mother will become angry with you."
Emriana raised an eyebrow in surprise at her niece's warning. Marga had never said a cross thing to Emriana about how she dealt with her niece and nephew. And the twins had never been so brazenly disrespectful to her.
Then again, none of us has been ourselves, since-
"I don't care," Emriana said at last, trying to sound forceful. "If you want to shoot at something, go practice at the targets Vambran built for you." She gave Mirolyn a quick, knowing stare as she finished. The woman smiled back, something of a helpless look, and she shrugged.
"All right," Obiron said at last, though his tone seemed to belie his acquiescence. He and his sister began to move away from the pond, Mirolyn following them discreetly.
Unsettled by her encounter with the twins, Emriana turned Honey away and continued on her ride, and she found herself wishing all the harder that Vambran were there with her. Having her older brother away on campaign had never felt so lonely in the past. She fingered the pendant hanging on the chain around her neck, which he had brought back to her for her birthday. She wanted to use it right then to call to him, magically span the miles between them, just so she could hear his voice, perhaps telling her something humorous, but she knew it was frivolous, and a waste of the magic. Through experimentation, she had come to discover the pendant functioned more frequently than Vambran had believed, but it was still very limited, and she had to be careful how and when she used it.
Besides, Emriana reminded herself, he's busy, and he'll just get annoyed if I trouble him over something so silly.
Reluctantly slipping the pendant back inside her shirt, Emriana passed through a hedge into another part of the estate and found her grandmother also out for an early morning stroll. The matriarch of the household spied Emriana right away and waved for the girl to join her.
"A fine day for a ride," Hetta commented as Emriana moved beside her. "Or for avoiding your lessons."
Emriana snorted, almost laughing out loud. "Grandmother, I don't have tutors anymore," she said, rolling her eyes where she hoped the older woman could not see. "They spend their time with Obiron and Quindy now."
"Not those lessons, Em," Hetta replied, sounding, as she often did, as if she were having to explain simple things to a foolish child. "Xaphira returned from the city last night," the older woman said, "and she's about to take Dancer out for a run. I saw she had her throwing daggers with her, so she's probably going to go practice. If you hurry, you can catch up to her before she gets out of sight."
Emriana grinned a little bit in spite of herself. Hetta understood far better than her mother ever would what was in her heart. Encouraging the girl to follow her own path, without regard to the traditional expectations of a young girl in Arrabaran society, was just one of the many things that made Emriana love her grandmother so dearly.
She leaned down and gave Hetta a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks," she said then turned and trotted toward the stable yard, hoping she wasn't too late.
She caught up with Xaphira just as the woman was about to mount Dancer, her sorrel mare. When her aunt spied Emriana approaching, she gave a warm smile and waved the girl over.
"Grandmother Hetta told me you were going for a ride," Emriana said. "Care for some company?"
Xaphira grinned and nodded. "Sure, Em. But first, I want to give you something." The older woman walked Dancer over next to Honey, and Emriana noticed a small wooden box tied to the back of her aunt's saddle. Xaphira undid the ties and lifted the box up, holding it out for Emriana to see. "Open it," her aunt suggested.
The box itself was made of rich, dark wood, smooth and finished so it gleamed in the sun. It was thin and wide, like a container made to hold fine silver. Emriana reached out and lifted the hinged lid.
Inside, the box was lined in shimmering cloth. It held a row of four beautiful daggers, each nestled in its own indentation. The handles were made of carved ivory and were etched and inlaid with adamantine and emeralds. The blades, also of adamantine, were double-edged and had been polished to such a reflective sheen that they could have been mirrors.
Emriana was stunned. "Oh, they're beautiful!" she breathed, tentatively reaching out and removing one. It felt exactly right in her hands, balanced perfectly.
"They're throwing daggers, and they've been enchanted," Xaphira explained. "Once you master the art of using them, you'll be hard-pressed to find their equal."
"Thank you!" Emriana said, running her finger along the blade lovingly. "I don't know what to say!" She felt so happy; she thought she was going to cry.
"Say, 'I will work hard with you to learn how to use them, Aunt Xaphira,'" the woman said, mimicking Emriana's own voice. She closed the box and held it out toward her niece.
"Oh, I will!" Emriana said, taking the box from her aunt and cradling it. "I will! Thank you so much!"
"You're welcome. Now, are you ready to ride?" When Emriana nodded enthusiastically, Xaphira smirked. "Last one to the rope swing is a meazel!" she shouted then put her heels into Dancer, who launched forward, eager for a run.
Laughing, Emriana kicked Honey and charged after them.
The two riders raced across an open field and toward a line of trees, Xaphira perhaps five lengths ahead. There was a trail there leading through the woods toward a swimming hole, and Emriana's aunt disappeared into the foliage along that route. The younger girl was close behind and gaining.
Dancer kicked up great clods of dirt and leaves into the air as Xaphira guided the horse along the wooded trail at a full gallop. Emriana, following closely behind, had to duck low against her mount's neck to avoid the flying debris. Taking such cover slowed her progress, though, and her aunt began to pull away. Grimacing, the girl heeled Honey to pick up the pace when they reached a straightaway along the path, hoping to close the gap and possibly even pass her quarry.