Read EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy Online

Authors: Terah Edun,K. J. Colt,Mande Matthews,Dima Zales,Megg Jensen,Daniel Arenson,Joseph Lallo,Annie Bellet,Lindsay Buroker,Jeff Gunzel,Edward W. Robertson,Brian D. Anderson,David Adams,C. Greenwood,Anna Zaires

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery

EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (40 page)

BOOK: EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy
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‘No. They won’t, but it doesn’t mean you can go off on your own. Maybe Jemely can take you with her on her errands. Would that make you happy?’

I nodded so hard I thought my neck would snap. I wasn’t sick! But then the other thoughts crept in. There had to be something wrong with me, or my uncle would never have attacked me.

‘I’ll talk to Jemely then. Now take this bucket downstairs.’

I put out my hands for the container.

Mother asked, ‘Have you forgotten something?’

I thought hard, but I couldn’t imagine what she was talking about. I shook my head.

‘Remember your blindfold. Never forget your blindfold, Adenine. If you’re going to be a big girl and go outside then you must wear your blindfold. Promise me.’

‘I promise.’ I rolled to the other side of the bed, found the blindfold, and tied it on quickly.

Mother pressed the bucket into my hands. The contents smelled bitter, and the edges of the pail were damp.

‘Remember how many steps,’ she said.

I carefully made my way from the room, counting and stepping. I tried not to become distracted by my newfound joy at no longer being sick, but walking down the stairs into Mystoria still filled me with the same dread and fear I’d always had there.

I let out a lungful of air. It had taken a lot of concentration to navigate the sixteen stairs while trying not to breathe in odours coming from the bucket. After bumping my arms a few times and stepping over obstacles, I unhooked the back door latch.

The morning air was chilly, and I could sense the dull day outside. Maybe it was stormy or overcast. Someone moved towards me, and I froze.

‘Well met, Adenine,’ Jemely said. ‘Oh, look what you have there. Phewee! Terrible smell ain’t it? Glad it’s you and not me. Was the bucket your idea?’

‘No. Capacia’s.’ I wondered how effective Jemely was as a doctor’s assistant. Surely she’d smelt worse things than the contents of Mother’s bucket.

‘Well, I think it’s brilliant, seeing as your mother can’t have helped herself to the latrine.’

‘She’s not my mother.’

‘I’m no fool, Adenine. You are your mother’s daughter, but I can see why she would not want to own up to you. This way, people think her compassionate for taking in her dead brother-in-law’s daughter, rather than seeming the careless mother she is. She made her own child blind.’

‘No, she didn’t. I spilled hot water...’ But the doubt I’d always had over the incident, my confusion of that awful night, left me thinking that Jemely might be right. I was angry at her for it. I wanted the lie to be true.

‘You believe what you want,’ she snapped. ‘But I know what I know, and that night you were brought to Varago’s house. I heard enough to know that your parents did something bad to make you blind. And yesterday you weren’t quick enough putting on that blindfold either.’

I wondered how she knew I was mother’s daughter by seeing my uncovered eyes. ‘Shut up. That’s not true!’ Tears seeped out and slid down my face. ‘Mama and Father would never hurt me.’

She snorted. ‘Each person deserves to know what’s real. If someone did something to me, I’d want to know. You’ve got lots to learn about the world. Stop crying now. I got to go. I have things for your kitchen.’

Her hip knocked me sideways as she passed. The contents of the bucket sloshed, allowing the foul stench to engulf me. I coughed and resumed my journey to the latrine. I emptied the bucket, being careful to keep all body parts out of the way. When I recrossed the backyard, I concluded fifteen steps.

Before I went back into the house, I took a deep breath. Jemely had been horrible, and I would not let her poison Mother and me with her lies.

Inside, Jemely prepared food while singing, ‘My love is as fair as the hair on a dove…’

She asked me for help, which I gave, even though my fondness for her had disappeared. Why had she tried to make my parents out to be bad? Was she jealous? That didn’t seem right. Maybe she was a bad person. But that didn’t fit either, and I made up my mind that instead of being confused, I would trust Mother and no one else.

Jemely left an hour later, promising to return that afternoon and take me to the river with her. She wanted me to learn how to find my way there and back so she wouldn’t have to wash Mother’s clothes every day. I thought it was unfair that a blind girl be expected to find her way to the river. Mother had agreed with Jemely, reluctantly, so I kept my thoughts to myself. I didn’t want her to keep me inside when earlier she’d given permission for me to help Jemely on her errands.

After Jemely left, Mother and I played word games in the bedroom. We also sang songs while hitting our hands together. At first, I kept missing, but following her rhythm, I managed to find my pace.

‘There is a thick book downstairs,’ Mother said. ‘It sits on a table in the front corner of the room. Go and fetch it for me. Oh, see if there is a quill and ink, too.’

After fumbling around in Mystoria, I found what I thought to be the items she wanted and returned.

‘Oh, dear. Your hands are covered in ink.’ Mother laughed. I was hurt that she thought me ridiculous. But when she wiped my hands on
her
dress, I felt a little better.

‘Now, let me see,’ she said.

I heard her flipping through the pages of the book. Then, the bed dipped and creaked as she leaned to one side.

‘Ah, here we are.’ I heard the clinking of coins in a bag. ‘Remember a long time ago? We played with smooth stones, and we counted them. One, two, three…’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Good. Well, when your father and I used to sell things in the store, people would give us coin in return for things they wanted, the things we brought back from our trips. You know how that works, don’t you?’

‘People exchange coin for market stuff. I used to watch people barter in the streets from my attic window before I became—’

‘Good. So it seems you know what I’m talking about.’

‘They would get angry,’ I added.

Mother laughed. ‘Yes, people can take bartering very seriously. So here.’ She placed a large coin in my hand. ‘Feel the heavy one?’

I nodded. The round object was as wide as my hand.

‘That is gold. Gold is always the heaviest and worth the most. One gold piece will buy you a horse. Fifty of them will buy you a small house on a modest plot of land. In a prosperous year, your father and I made about seven of these, total, each month!’ Her tone had changed with the memory. She sounded excited and energetic.

‘When your father died, I could not leave you alone, so instead of travelling, I paid more money to have all my exotic wares sent here. Not knowing about all the new herbs, spices, bowls, and precious materials, such as silks, gems, and tools that were being crafted, I could only sell things that I knew, and our income dropped to three gold a month. Transporting everything became expensive, and they constantly delivered the wrong items.’

She sighed. ‘Anyway… feel its weight and remember it is the weight of a coin that distinguishes it from others.’ Mother took away the coin and put a lighter one in my hand. ‘Here, feel this one now. This is a silver coin. Ten of these are worth one of the gold coins. One of these will buy two week’s food. Understand?’

I nodded.

Mother felt around in the coin bag again, I heard jingling noises, and then she placed an even lighter coin in my hand. ‘This is a copper coin. See it is the same shape and size as the first two coins, but it is lighter. Ten of these are worth one silver. I don’t expect you to work this all out immediately, but one day, you will have to use coins to buy things, and I don’t want you to be a target for scoundrels.’

‘Scoundrels?’ I said, confused by the term.

‘Well, don’t
you
use that word. But I mean dishonest men. They only seek to increase the coin in their pocket, and in unfair and unjust ways. Your father and I have been robbed many times. The world can be a harsh place.’

I ran through the different coin values in my mind. Rubbing my fingers over them, I noticed that the coins had rough surfaces.

‘What you feel is an engraved picture of a king. The gold in Senya belongs to the king, and you can tell how old a coin is by which king is engraved on it.’

‘Who is our king now?’ I asked.

‘King Erageo, of course. I’ve told you about him before.’

‘The wicked king’s son?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mama, would twenty coppers be worth a week’s worth of food because they are worth two of the silver coins? You said two silvers would feed us for a week.’

‘Yes. Exactly!’

I did some more sums in my head. ‘So ten silvers could buy a horse?’

‘Well, yes.’ She clapped her hands. ‘You’re a smart girl. You seem to have a gift for figures.’

‘Mrs. Moferbury said it was my best subject. Will I ever see her again?’

Mother became silent.

I said, ‘It’s fine. I was just asking.’

‘I think you are past that now.’

What did she mean? Was I never to have a tutor? Was it because I might give Mrs. Moferbury my disease? No, Mother said I was cured of that, and I’d been around my tutor lots of times, but she’d been careful not to touch me and I her.

We sat for a few more hours, talking about the prices of different objects. I learned that because we resold our merchandise, we didn’t need a farm to keep us fed like most people did. We could buy food from the village markets. According to Mother, we were richer than most, but we weren’t considered nobles because only noble people owned the land in the town. Uncle Garrad owned his farm but it was self-made and far away, so it didn’t count. While we had long-term rights to our house, we still paid rent to the Borrelia Council. I also learned the cost of having clothes made.

‘Your feet are as black as night. A well-tailored pair of boots would fix that. I wish I could get you something pretty because to be taken seriously as a merchant, you will need better clothes.’ She moved around for a moment, entangling her fingers in my hair and holding up one of my arms. ‘Hmm, reds or purples would suit you.’ Mother placed a coin in my hand.

‘It’s silver isn’t it?’ I asked.

‘Good girl. You can already recognise the coins. Now, you must take Jemely with you to the tailors. You come straight home afterwards, you hear me?’

I nodded. I felt proud for having been given permission to go to town with Jemely and also for guessing the coin correctly. The sensation seemed to lift me and make me feel taller. I liked the idea of new outfits, and I liked it even more that Mother seemed interested in me. ‘Mama, if I can’t see the shop merchandise, how will I know what each item is worth? What if I make mistakes with the coin?’

‘Don’t you worry. Varago and I will figure out a solution.’ But there was doubt in her voice. ‘We could train a boy to help us. Maybe you could run up here to me when you make a sale…’

That idea seemed foolish. For me to run upstairs to Mother, leaving the shop unattended, seemed a major fault in our plan. Maybe we could hire a strong man to carry Mother up and down the stairs—once in the morning, once at night. But that would cost money. And what if he tried to hurt Mother like my uncle had hurt me? What if he dropped her?

The thrill surrounding our original idea died in the face of reality. Out of boredom and misery, I left Mother and went to explore downstairs. If I was to help Mother run Mystoria, I needed to know every corner, every crack.

‘Adenine, I’m going to wash clothes,’ Jemely shouted from the kitchen. ‘Come along and help me.’

Yes. That was exactly what I needed: to get outside. The thought of taking clothes to the river scared me, though. I wouldn’t be able to see the stains on the clothes, anyway. What if I got lost? What if an animal hunted me?

Mother insisted Jemely stop at the boot makers before we left for the river. Jemely said new boots would cost fifteen copper, and I was pleased with myself when, in the boot makers shop, I was accurate in predicting I would receive five copper and boots in exchange for the silver in my hand.

‘Who’s your friend?’ the boot maker asked Jemely.

‘This is Garrad’s girl.’

‘Garrad’s girl, eh? Seems a bit too pretty to have come from ‘im. ‘Spose it makes sense if the mother was pretty. Was the mother a whore?’ He laughed.

‘Dunno,’ Jemely replied. She didn’t laugh at the man’s joke, and neither did I.

‘What’s your name, little one?’ the man asked.

Little? I was thirteen. The man was insulting me. I returned his question with a determined silence. How dare he call Mother a whore… whatever that meant.

‘Shy are ya? All right then.’ He huffed and handed me the boots. ‘This’ll protect those delicate feet of yours. If ya ever want something prettier, you just drop by. I got a son, about your age too. You got any friends?’

‘She don’t play well with others,’ Jemely said.

The statement hurt. I’d never had a friend before, so how did she know?

‘So she’s not in school then?’ he asked.

‘Nah. Probably end up being Capacia’s lap dog.’

Why was Jemely saying those things? My fingers itched at the idea of digging my nails into her arm so I could hurt her as she was hurting me. But good girls didn’t do things like that.

BOOK: EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy
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