"That was nice of her." He paused. Then, "Where did you find those flowers? It's a bit late for columbine and lupine to be blooming."
"I… I didn't find the flowers," she said.
"Oh? They were in the basket when she gave it to you?"
She wasn't certain why she didn't want to tell Teacher that the woman was Mettai. Perhaps she feared that she'd get in trouble for merely witnessing magic, even if that magic wasn't done by an Y'Qatt, or even by a Qirsi. And as it happened, the way he asked his question, she could answer honestly and still reveal nothing. "Yes, they were."
He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the blooms. "I wonder where she found them. They look like they opened this morning for the first time."
"Would you like them?" Jynna asked, before she'd even thought about what she was saying.
"What?"
"For you and your new wife." She stepped forward and put the basket on his table. "A wedding gift."
"Thank you, Jynna," he said, smiling broadly. "How kind of you." She felt herself blushing again. "I should be getting home."
"Yes, of course. I'll see you in the morning, Jynna."
Jynna turned and ran from the room, her cheeks burning. She'd thought the other girls foolish for being sad at the thought of Teacher's wedding, but perhaps she wasn't any less a fool herself.
She didn't stop running until she had passed Menac's farm and could see her house bathed in the late-day sun and casting its long shadow across the grainfield.
Her brothers were outside the barn, putting out hay for the plow horse. Seeing her approach, Delon took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Where have you been?" he called. "Lessons."
"This late? Mama's been lookin' for you for an hour at least. She's pretty mad, too."
She had slowed as they talked, but now she started running toward the house again. "I forgot my basket," she shouted over her shoulder. "I had to go back for it."
"I don't care," he shouted back. "Tell Mama."
Jynna could still hear the two of them laughing when she reached the stairs and ran into the house.
Her mother was at the hearth, her hair pulled back from her face in a loose braid. She looked up as Jynna entered and frowned at the girl.
"I expected you long ago." Her eyes fell to the basket in Jynna's hand. "Where did you get that?"
"I got it for you," Jynna said, knowing that she wasn't quite answering the question.
A smile crept slowly across her mother's face. After a moment she pointed toward the table where they ate their meals. Turning to look that way, Jynna saw one of Licaldi's baskets. The colors were different, but it was shaped just the way Jynna's was.
"You bought one," she said, crestfallen.
"Well, of course, silly girl." But then the frown returned. "How did you get that one?"
"I met the old woman who was selling them. She had two big baskets and a carry sack, and I carried the sack for her, and she gave me a basket."
It wasn't quite what had happened, but it was close enough, and it allowed her to skip the whole magic part.
"Is that why you're so late?"
"Sort of," Jynna said. "I left this at the sanctuary and had to go back for it. I'm sorry, Mama."
Her mother smiled. "You see that we picked out the same one?" Jynna nodded. "I knew you'd like this one."
"Clever girl." Still smiling, she picked up the water bucket and handed it to Jynna. "Now, get to your chores. It's late, and your father and the boys are going to be hungry."
It was nearly dark when her father returned from the fields. Jynna and her mother had just enough time to finish preparing the roast meat, stewed greens, and bread. At first, as they cooked, her mother had asked her questions about her lessons, and also about Licaldi. But as the daylight dimmed, her mother grew quieter and quieter, so that the only sounds in the house were the crackling of the fire and the sizzling of the meat. Jynna heard her father and the boys coming in from the barn long before they reached the door.
They entered the house and Jynna's father gathered her in his arms, lifting her off the ground and kissing her cheek.
"How are you, missy?" he asked.
She giggled. "I'm fine, Papa."
He set her down and leaned toward Jynna's mother to kiss her cheek. But then he stopped, his brow creasing.
"You look flushed," he said. "Are you feeling all right?"
The boys had been laughing about something, but they stopped now and stared at their mother, as did Jynna. She was never sick. And now that Papa mentioned it, she did look flushed, even more than she usually did after working in the kitchen. Her cheeks were bright pink, and a wisp of hair clung to her forehead, which looked damp in the light of the oil lamp.
"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. But even her voice sounded weak.
Papa laid the back of his hand against her forehead, then quickly pulled it back. "You've got a fever," he said.
The word "fever" seemed to break her, so suddenly did she double over, clutching her stomach. She stumbled to the doorway and out onto the porch. A moment later they could hear her retching.
"Is it the pestilence, Papa?" asked Blayne, the younger of her two brothers.
"I don't know!" Papa snapped. He shook his head. "Maybe. Qirsar save us all if it is."
Mama staggered back to the doorway, stood there briefly, then whirled away and was sick again.
Papa looked at Delon. "Go get the healer."
Delon nodded once and ran out the door.
For some time Jynna, Blayne, and their father just stood there, the only sound in the house coming from Jynna's mother and the fire.
"You two should eat," Papa said at last.
Jynna and her brother exchanged a look. She was too scared to take even a bite, and judging from the expression on Blayne's face, she guessed that he felt the same way.
"Well?" Papa said, his voice rising again.
"I'm not hungry, Papa."
Blayne shook his head. "Neither am I."
Jynna thought Papa would make them eat anyway, but in the end he just shook his head, and muttered, "I don't blame you. I don't much feel like eating either."
As he said it, Jynna realized that he appeared flushed as well, though she couldn't tell if he was just worried about Mama or if he was starting to get sick also.
Mama appeared in the doorway again. She didn't look flushed anymore. Instead she was deathly pale, her face nearly as white as her hair, and her bright golden eyes sunken and dull. Only the dark purple lines under her eyes gave her face any color at all. She looked like a wraith.
"I need to lie down," she said, the words coming out as a whisper.
Papa hurried to her side, lifted her as if she were a child, and carried her to their bedroom.
He came out again a few moments later, his expression grim, his cheeks nearly as red as Mama's had been a short time before.
"She's already asleep," he said. "And to be honest, I'm starting to feel it, too."
"So it is the pestilence," Blayne said.
At that moment Delon returned.
"The healer says she'll be along when she can," he told them all, looking scared. "But there's lots of people sick."
"Damn," Papa said, sighing the word. He glanced at Blayne. "Well, there's your answer. It's probably too late, but I want the three of you outside. You're not sick yet. Maybe you'll make it through."
"But Papa-"
"I know what you're going to say, Delon. But there's nothing to be done now. Either your mother and I will live or we won't. But you haven't any way to save us, so it's best you save yourselves."
"I have healing magic," her brother said. "Blayne's come into his power, and he has it, too. We can save you, if you'll just let us."
Papa glared at him, the muscles in his jaw bunching. For just an instant, Jynna thought he might strike Delon for what he had said. "Never utter such words in this house again. Do you hear me?"
Delon lowered his gaze. "Yes, Papa."
"You're past your fourth four. You're a man now. If your mother and I… If the healer can't help us, then it'll fall to you to take care of your brother and sister. You're old enough that you should know better than to speak against the god like that." He started to say more, but then stopped and ran out the door, grabbing at his gut just as Mama had done.