Sister of the Dead - By Barb Hendee & J. C. Hendee Page 0,25
broke the moment, to Magiere's relief.
There were few of her thoughts that she could explain to Leesil while others were present. When she looked away from him, she found Aunt Bieja watching the two of them. Magiere's discomfort rekindled.
Her stout aunt cocked an eyebrow at Wynn's words. Magiere was grateful that it offered a way to avoid both Leesil's and her aunt's curiosities.
"Are these lentils, " Magiere translated for the young sage. "Wynn doesn't speak much Droevinkan as yet, only Belaskian. "
"Ah, we don't get much of that foreign tongue this far off the main ways, " Bieja replied. "I remember a little of it, but I'm half a life out of practice. "
The young sage pointed to the cook pot as she looked to Bieja for approval, who nodded. Wynn grabbed a folded cloth nearby with which to grip and lift the pot's lid. She smiled broadly, replaced the lid, and set to digging through her pack and pulling out small pouches.
"May I?" she asked Aunt Bieja in Droevinkan, and switched to Belaskian as she spoke to Magiere. "Tell her this one is rosemary. "
Magiere did so, and Aunt Bieja chuckled as she examined each of Wynn's herbs. The two women exchanged one- and two-word questions and answers in mixed tongues. Chap inched closer to sniff the pouches, though this turned out to be a ploy to nose his way toward the cook pot. Leesil stepped in to grab Chap's haunches and pull back the struggling dog.
Bieja still wore the same purple dress Magiere remembered, though now it was far more faded. Several times Magiere had sent money when she was fortunate enough to find a land-bound merchant heading inland toward Droevinka. She should have known Bieja would give such coins to the village instead of spending it on herself.
The sight of her aunt's kind face, with its broad dimples and wrinkles, filled Magiere with guilt. She'd never sent word of purchasing the Sea Lion, yet nine years later, her aunt welcomed her as if she'd been gone but a moon.
Magiere felt Leesil's hand slide up her back again, and he whispered, "You all right?"
"It's good to see her, " she answered.
It was a half-truth and the lesser part of all her thoughts. When she reached up to touch Leesil's shoulder, Aunt Bieja glanced at them again. Magiere neither pulled away from Leesil nor removed her hand. Leesil, not noticing they were watched, stripped off his charcoal scarf and shook out his white-blond hair.
Magiere tensed, forcing herself not to look toward her aunt this time.
Superstition ran deeper here than even the back ways they'd worked in Stravina. She wasn't certain how her own flesh and blood might react to someone of Leesil's unusual ancestry.
"Whatever you're making smells wonderful, " Leesil said.
Chap yipped in agreement, which earned him a pat on the back from Wynn. The sage looked happier than Magiere had seen her in some while. The hut was warm and dry, and the scent of lentil stew was mouthwatering.
"Supper for all, though we'll need to stretch it a bit, " Bieja answered, and after a moment's hard appraisal of Leesil's hair, she turned to gather more things from her shelves. "Then I think you have much to tell me. "
Magiere took a deep breath.
She hauled the bench to the table for Leesil and herself, and they were all soon enjoying the luxury of well-seasoned stew, some late pears, and a loaf of black forest bread. Wynn made small noises of contentment as she ate. Magiere realized the meal was not far from the food served back at the sage's guild. Only halfway through the meal, a loud belch came from under the table, followed by the licking of chops. Chap had finished before anyone else.
The closeness around the fireside table wore away Magiere's first impressions upon stepping into the hut. She'd barely finished a few spoonfuls when Leesil pushed his emptied bowl back.
"So, what exactly was that mob about back there?" he asked of Aunt Bieja.
Magiere stopped eating and stared at him.
"Magiere hasn't told you?" Bieja asked. "About why she left?"
"She wasn't happy here... wasn't well liked because of her father. But she didn't mention anyone trying to run her off with pitchforks. "
Magiere dropped her spoon into the bowl, shifting on the bench. "Leesil—"
"No, I want to know what's going on. "
Wynn's attention swung back and forth around the table as she tried to follow the conversation. However, Bieja's glare was purely for Leesil.