A Plague of Giants (Seven Kennings #1) - Kevin Hearne Page 0,46

craft is known

Then step into our journey blue,

Grow until we’re ready to

Go test for master amethyst,

If we’re lucky we’ll be kissed

And marry someone wise and bold,

Turn our bands from bronze to gold.

—

“Today we begin by checking up on Kallindra du Paskre, the trader’s daughter who chronicled her family’s encounter with one of the Bone Giants. I mentioned at that time that the du Paskres weren’t the only ones to see them in advance of the invasion. Kallindra’s family had been on their way to a trader clave in Setyrön, where she learned more.”

He cast down his seeming stone and took the form of the sleepy-eyed teenage girl. Whereas before she had worn a wry smirk, she now appeared almost jubilant about something.

I cannot tell you who was most excited in my family to finally reach the trader clave in Setyrön, nor can I tell you who hid their excitement best. I would like to think I won in both categories, but Jorry caught me smiling once too often for no apparent reason.

“You can stop pretending you don’t care about the clave,” he said. “I see you there smiling like a kid at a tide festival.”

“I wasn’t smiling about that,” I said, scowling at him.

“Then what?”

“Dad getting robbed the other night.”

Jorry frowned. “That’s hardly anything to smile about.”

“Mother sure smiled about it. She nearly died laughing.”

“But we were robbed.”

“And we’ll remember it well, won’t we? It was an excellent lesson for us all. I can’t remember half the things our parents have tried to teach us, but I’ll never forget that.”

Jorry snorted and allowed himself a half smile. “No, I guess not.”

In truth I was smiling because the clave was one of the few times and places where we could relax. It was safe and everything smelled good and tasted delicious, and those things are the fundamental building blocks of a great day. And we had many such days to look forward to.

Father, however, stopped thinking claves were safe a couple of years ago. Ever since I came of marriageable age, in fact. Nope, not a coincidence! He seems to think I would abandon the family at the first proposal, and so he tries to forestall any attempted courtship with his looming presence, following me around most of the time. That was all right with me. I’m not chafing to be free just yet; I have yet to find someone who suits me. The handsome boys my age tend to be more than a little doltish, and older unattached men tend to be unattached for good reasons. I’m not sure marriage would suit me, anyway. Men so far appear to be more trouble than they’re worth.

The clave was being hosted by a farmer outside Setyrön who had yet to plant his crop for a fall harvest and wasn’t using his field for anything else. He’d pocket a healthy sum for letting us trample all over it and enjoy clave prices in the bargain.

When we pulled up to the posted, gated entrance to the farm, there was a friendly greeter there to take our entrance fee and register us.

“Ask him, Father. Ask him.”

“All right! Patience!” he said, then turned to the greeter. “Could you tell me if the du Lörryls are here yet, sir?”

The young man smiled. “You’re not the first to ask. They are indeed. I think you’ll find them already busy.”

Jorry and I clapped and made high-pitched noises of excitement. We passed on to find a spot to park our wagon, necessarily taking a spot on the periphery. It wouldn’t be the periphery much longer; more wagons would arrive and form rings around us.

“Go on, kids,” Father said. “See where everything is and find our friends. I’ll expect you back in an hour, and then I’ll want you to take me to the du Hallards, Kallindra.”

Jorry and I shot out of the wagon like bolts, clutching our purses with the few coins in them that Mother had given us when Father wasn’t looking. I think Father knew, though; he was too shrewd with his money not to know where it all went, which made me wonder why he pretended not to know.

We called out greetings to families we knew who worked the inland routes, and they called back. We depended on them to supply us with wool and honey and wax, and they depended on coastal traders like us for fish oils, inks, imported goods, and so on. I asked the du Nedals where we could find the du Lörryls.