Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles #4) - Ilona Andrews Page 0,59
in war, a language Maud innately understood. A blind woman could’ve read Arland last night, and if Maud told herself she didn’t know what she wanted, she would be lying.
What’s wrong with me?
“Am I a mongrel?”
Helen’s question caught her off guard. Maud blinked, trying to switch mental gears.
“It’s fine if I am,” Helen said. “I just want to know.”
“Did someone call you that?”
Helen didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
“Did they use that word?”
“They called me erhissa.”
Maud’s hands curled on the stone wall. Helen must’ve plugged the word into her harbinger, and the translation software spat out the closest equivalent: mongrel. They called her that, those assholes. In that moment, she could’ve hurt whoever said it and she didn’t particularly care if it was an adult or a child.
Maud gripped her anger with her will and bent it until she was sure her voice would sound calm and measured. She had to explain. Hiding the truth wouldn’t serve either of them well.
“Touch this.” She held out the sleeve of her robe. Helen brushed her fingers over the smooth material.
“The vampires breed a special creature, a type of strange-looking snake. The snakes secrete long threads of silk and spin their nests from them. The vampires collect these nests and make them into fabric. There are two main types, kahissa, which make very thin, light fabric like this one, and ohissa, which make stronger fabric that’s warm and durable. Both are useful. Sometimes kahissa and ohissa breed and they make a third kind of snake, erhissa. Erhissa don’t make nests. They’re poisonous and they bite.”
Helen flinched.
“To vampires, erhissa have no purpose,” Maud said. “But the erhissa knows the world doesn’t revolve around vampires. It doesn’t care what vampires think. It just keeps doing its own thing.”
“So, I’m a mongrel.”
“On Earth, that’s a word people use when they don’t know what breed a dog is. You know who you are. You are Helen.”
Helen looked down and dragged her stick across the stone, her jaw set.
“Each of us is more than just a human or just a vampire. There is only one you. Some people realize that, and others refuse to see it.”
“Why?”
Maud sighed. “Because some people have rigid minds. They like everything to be clearly labeled. They have a box for everyone they meet. A box for vampires, a box for lees, a box for humans. When someone doesn’t fit into their boxes, they panic.”
“But why?”
“I don’t exactly know, my flower. I think it’s because they lack confidence. They think they figured out the rules of their world and when something falls outside those rules, it scares them.”
“So, I’m scary?”
“To those people? Yes. If the rules they made up don’t apply anymore, they don’t know how to act, and it makes them feel like their survival is in doubt. Instead of adapting to a new situation and coming up with a new set of rules, some of them will fight to the death trying to keep the world the way it was. Do you remember when we lived in Fort Kur? What was written above the door?”
“Adapt or die,” Helen said.
“It’s impossible to stop change,” Maud said. “It’s the nature of life. Those who refuse to adapt will eventually die out. But before they do, they will get nasty. They might even hate you.”
Helen looked up. Her eyes flashed. “I’ll hate them back!”
“Hate is a very powerful tool. Don’t waste it. People who don’t like you because of what you are may change their minds when they get to know you. But some people will hate you because of who you are. If they were honest with themselves, they would admit that they don’t like you because something about you makes them feel inferior. They might think you’re a better fighter, or you’re smarter, or prettier, or you’re taking up attention they think should be going to them. Those people are truly dangerous. If they get a chance, they will hurt you and those you love. Save your hate for those people. Never hurt them first, but if they hurt you or your friends, you must hurt them back harder. Do you understand?”
Helen nodded.
“Do you want to go back to Aunt Dina’s inn?”
Helen’s shoulders sagged. “Sometimes.”
Maud stepped close to her daughter and hugged her. “We can go anytime. We don’t have to stay here.”
“But sometimes I like it here,” Helen said into her shoulder. “I like Ymanie. Aunt Dina’s inn doesn’t have Ymanie.”