"People will buy these," Jynna said.
"You think so?"
She turned to the woman and nodded.
"And you won't tell them that some are colored with magic?"
Jynna looked at the baskets again. She couldn't tell which had been hand-dyed and which hadn't. They all were so lovely.
"No," she said. "I won't tell."
"You're a sweet girl. Just for that, you can choose another one, to take home to your mother."
"Really?"
Licaldi nodded.
Jynna considered them for several moments, chewing her lip. Finally, she chose one that was golden brown and pale blue, like the grain fields that grew beneath the highlands sky. It seemed the perfect choice for this day, and it looked to he just the right size for the loaves her mother usually baked. It was oval in shape and it had a braided handle that twisted in the middle.
"You have a good eye," Licaldi told her. "I think that's one of my best." The girl smiled.
"It was nice meeting you, Jynna," Licaldi said. "But I have to get to work now. I need to put these back in those big baskets over there." She pointed at a pair of large baskets that were lined with old blankets. "And then I need to carry them to your village so that I can sell them in the marketplace."
"I can help you," Jynna offered. "I can help you put them in the baskets, and I can carry one. They shouldn't be too heavy."
"You'd be surprised. But you're right: You can help me. We'll fill the baskets and then if you'll carry my travel sack, I'll carry the baskets. How does that sound?"
"All right," Jynna said. It wasn't the morning she had in mind-a few quiet hours in her secret place-but she thought it would be fun just the same.
They worked wordlessly for some time, carefully returning the small baskets to the larger ones. By the time they were finished, the baskets were quite heavy, just as Licaldi had said they would be. Jynna was just as happy to be carrying the carry sack, which was pretty light, and the two baskets the woman had given her. As they walked toward the village, Jynna admired the flowers that Licaldi had conjured.
"How old are you, Jynna?" Licaldi asked as they walked. "I'm eight."
"Only eight? I thought you were at least ten. You seem very mature for eight."
"Thank you," Jynna said, unable to keep from smiling. "Do you have brothers and sisters?"
"Two brothers, but they're much older than I am. They're practically men. I had a third, but he died a few years ago."
"I'm sorry, my dear. What happened?"
"He got sick-a fever. And the healer couldn't save him. I don't remember it very well. I remember Mama and Papa crying, and lots of people being in our house. But that's all, really."
"I wonder if magic would have saved him."
Jynna looked up at the woman. She was eyeing Jynna closely, as if to see how she reacted to what she had said.
"We're not allowed," Jynna said.
"Not allowed?"
"The god doesn't want us to do magic. Qirsar, that is," she added, realizing that the Mettai probably prayed to a different god.
"But other Qirsi do."
Jynna shrugged. She didn't quite understand it either, but Mama and Papa seemed certain that they were doing the right thing. They had told her about the V'Tol, and she had done her best to listen, both to them and to the prioress. But always in her mind she heard the same words Licaldi had just said. Other Qirsi do.
"Well, we don't," she finally said, her voice low. She didn't want to talk about this. It made her feel strange, like there was something wrong with her and with her family, with everybody in Tivston. And the way Licaldi sounded made Jynna afraid that she found the ways of the Y'Qatt odd-so odd, in fact, that she might leave without going to the marketplace.
"I'm sorry, Jynna," the woman said after a long silence. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."
"It's all right." They were nearing the village now. Already they could see the peddlers' stalls in the marketplace, where the narrow lane they were on ended. "That's the market," Jynna said, pointing. "And that's our house." She pointed eastward, toward the low roof of her home, just visible past Old Menac's farm.
"It looks very nice."
"It is. I have my own room now. I didn't used to. I had to share with my brothers for a long time. But Papa says that I'm becoming a young lady, and that young ladies need to have their own rooms."
"How very nice for you," Licaldi said. But she sounded distracted, the way adults did when they weren't really listening anymore.
Jynna watched the old woman as they drew near to the marketplace. Her dark eyes wandered over the various peddlers' carts and stalls, no doubt seeking out the best place to sell her baskets. That was fine. She'd been nice to Jynna, mostly. But now she had things to do.
As if reading her thoughts, the old woman suddenly halted, and when Jynna did the same, she placed a hand lightly on the girl's shoulder.
"You've been very helpful, Jynna," she said. "But I think I'll be just fine now."
Jynna nodded, feeling a bit disappointed. She loved the marketplace and looked for any excuse to go there. But she also understood that the old woman didn't need a child with her while she tried to sell her wares. Besides, she knew that it would soon be time for her lessons. She pulled off Licaldi's carry sack and handed it to the woman.
"Thank you, my dear. You have your baskets?"
"Yes," Jynna said, holding them up. "Thank you again."
"My pleasure," Licaldi said, shouldering her sack and picking up her baskets again. "I hope you and your family enjoy them."
She was already walking away as she said this last, leaving Jynna to wonder if she had done something to offend the woman. She thought about going after her to ask, but at that moment the sanctuary's bell began to toll, its pealing rolling lazily over the village, beckoning to her and the other children. Reluctantly, Jynna turned her back on Licaldi and the marketplace, and hurried to the sanctuary.
The day's lessons were boring, as they always were for her. She knew her numbers and letters better than did most of the other children, and so Teacher had her help the little ones while he worked with the others. But they didn't learn anything new; they never did. Jynna liked lessons best when Teacher told them stories about the old clans or about the Blood Wars-not the most recent ones, but the ancient wars, fought hundreds of years ago. She often asked for them-she had today-and always the other children echoed her requests. But today Teacher had told her that their lessons were more important than old tales.
Bored as she was, Jynna left the sanctuary without her baskets and was nearly all the way home before she remembered them. She ran back and found both baskets resting on her chair. Teacher was still there at his table, writing out lessons for tomorrow.
"I thought you'd he back," he said, when she ran into the small room they used, panting, sweat running down her temples.
He was about the same age as Delon, her oldest brother, although he seemed much older to her. He wore his white hair long and tied back, and his eyes were an even brighter shade of yellow than her own. The older girls always talked about how handsome he was; many of them had been sad to hear that he was to marry. Once, when Jynna heard them speaking of him, she agreed and they laughed at her, asking what she knew about men and their looks. But even Jynna could tell that Teacher was good-looking. She wasn't stupid.
"I was almost to my house when I remembered them," she said, crossing to her chair and picking up the two baskets. The flowers Licaldi had conjured were already beginning to wilt. She'd need to give them water once she reached home.
"They're lovely," Teacher said. "Where did you get them?"
"A peddler gave them to me, an old woman who was in my-" She stopped, feeling her face redden. Teacher was watching her closely, an odd smile on his lean face. "I met her as she was making her way into the village. I helped her carry her things, and she gave them to me."