Gudruny was trembling. “I didn’t know about her family. I thought she was an only child. And no one mentioned mages, either. I didn’t ask her to give me work.” She licked her lips. “Though it would keep me safe from Halmar taking revenge. And my parents will never forgive me for losing Halmar’s income for our family. I don’t know why she was so generous, but I hope you’ll understand if I don’t run away screaming. I have nowhere to go.” She met Daja’s eyes squarely, though she gulped when she did it.
Daja had to grin. “Ah. The Sandry effect.” She held up a hand. “No, I don’t expect you to know what I mean. You just reminded me that when we four lived together—at Winding Circle temple in Emelan for four years—now and then we’d find people who looked flattened, dismayed, and happy. Then we always knew Sandry was nearby. Once she decides to make your life better, look out! It’s easier to throw yourself off a cliff than it is to keep her from sweeping you up when she’s in that mood.” She changed the subject abruptly and offered her hand. “Daja Kisubo. Was Halmar really as pinheaded as he was talking out there?”
Gudruny sighed and sat on Sandry’s bed. “Halmar was never denied anything by his family—he was the only male child. And he taught me not to deny him anything once we were married.” She smoothed her crushed skirts. “When he beat me I sought help from Saghad Ambros and got it. But ... I never knew Halmar’s moods. He would punch the wall next to my head, and throw things at me or our children. He would lecture me for hours into the night, until I’d agree to anything just so he would let me sleep. I was always shaking, never sure what the children or I might fail in next.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I don’t believe I’ve had a night’s sleep in ten years.” Gudruny looked up at Daja. “So what kind of mage is the clehame?”
Daja went over to Sandry’s workbasket. “First rule: Don’t touch this or anything in it, ever, all right? Even if you need scissors, or needle and thread, get them elsewhere. It may look like a sewing basket, but it’s her mage’s kit.”
Gudruny looked at the basket, then at Daja. “I may only be a miller’s wife, or a miller’s onetime wife, but that doesn’t make it right to mock me, Viymese,” she said with injured dignity.
Daja rolled her eyes. “I don’t mock, not when it comes to magic,” she retorted. “Sandry is a mage with weaving, spinning, sewing. Even her pins have magic in them. You don’t know what they’ll do if you use them. Make sure your children understand it, too. Briar thought once he could give his hands a little tattoo with vegetable dyes—he has plant magic—and Sandry’s needles. Now he has plants made of ink that grow and move under his skin.”
Gudruny’s lips moved in a silent prayer. Feeling she had made her point, Daja asked, “You have two children?”
“Yes,” Gudruny admitted. “My boy is seven, my daughter ten. I’ll be certain they know—they are good children, and they mind me. But I have never heard of a mage whose kit is a sewing basket.”
“You’ve heard of stitch witches, though. Where do you think they keep their mage kits?” Daja opened the shutters, letting the morning breeze into the room. “Did you see the redhead?”
“Her hair was sparkling,” whispered Gudruny. “Actually, it looked like ...” She hesitated, as if afraid to name what she had seen.
“Lightning,” Daja said for her. “That’s because it was. Tris’s mage kit is her hair—her braids. She keeps different magics in each and every braid, but the lightning is hard to keep in one place, particularly when she’s out of sorts.”
The sitting room door opened, and Sandry returned. “Well, that’s that. Apparently there are other rooms off these for the maid the housekeeper expected me to have. I don’t believe I’ve ever been made to feel so, so ramshackle in my life by someone who was so terribly polite. She even managed to scold me for not making her come up here. I wasn’t aware I had to answer to my own housekeeper!”
“You’re frightening your new maid,” Daja said gently. Sandry ought to be throwing off lightnings right now, she thought.
Sandry looked at Gudruny. “Oh, cat dirt,” she said wearily. “Gudruny, don’t mind me. I’m cross, but it’s nothing to do with you. I’m glad you’ve met Daja. And Cousin Ambros says the men-at-arms are ready whenever you are. You can go get your children and your belongings when you wish.”
The woman looked from Daja to Sandry and back again. “I have a thousand things to say, and none of them make sense. You will never regret this day, Clehame.” She grabbed Sandry’s hand, kissed it, and fled.
Sandry looked at Daja. “What did you talk about?”
“I just started to tell her the less complicated things. You did say you didn’t want a maid, you know,” Daja remarked, leaning against the wall.
Sandry wrinkled her nose. “What else could I do? He looked like the vindictive sort. And maybe now servants will stop carping at me over my lack of a maid.”
Daja came over and kissed her cheek. “Ah. You did it just to silence the servants,” she said. Inside, through her magic, she added, But you still have a heart bigger than all Emelan.
Sandry smiled, her lips trembling. If this morning’s work brought one of my sisters back into my heart, then this whole trip was worth it, she replied through their now open magical connection.
Aloud, Daja teased, “At least until the next time Chime gets into your workbasket.” She heard brisk footsteps and Rizu’s and Caidy’s voices outside. “Some of us are going riding,” she told Sandry. “Want to come?”
Sandry grimaced. “Ealaga wants to give me the inner-castle tour, then Ambros will show me the outer castle. I get to spend my afternoon looking at maps and account books.” She sighed and slumped into a chair. “I shouldn’t complain. I’ve been reaping the benefits of these estates like mad for years. It’s only right that I learn the state they are in. And maybe I should have seen to it before this.”
“Another day,” Daja promised, feeling sorry for her. “I leave you to your tours.”
Skipping breakfast, Daja dressed quickly and hurried out to the stableyard. Rizu and Caidy were already in the saddle and nibbling on sweet rolls. An hostler came forward with Daja’s saddled and bridled gelding. She mounted and steadied the animal, wishing she had thought to wheedle a snack from the cook on her way out.
Rizu offered her a steaming roll. She had a pouch full of them. “One thing about riding with the empress,” she explained, “you learn the quickest ways to get hold of breakfast before you ride off at sunrise.”
“Actually, Her Imperial Majesty would think the day was half over at this point,” said Caidy, looking east. “We tend to sort ourselves into two groups over time: the ones who couldn’t sleep past dawn even if we wanted to, and the ones like Fin, who sleep in every chance they get.”
“Will you look at this?” Rizu asked. “Here we are, three females, all mounted up and ready to ride. If Jak and Briar don’t get out here soon, I say we should leave these lazy men behind and eat all the rolls.”