Maker of Fire

(Continued from installment 2.68 - Imstay, Aybhas, Planting Season, 5th rot., 9th day)

Leaving the shrine, Aylem and I walked through the crews removing the burned debris from the ruins of the north market. Snow Bear sent two of his trainees in guard coats, a middle-aged woman and a young man, as attendants. One had a basket of coins under a cloth. The other carried a camp chair for Aylem at my insistence.

Most of the damage was closest to the shrine, where many of the bombs fell. I gave little speeches to knots of workers and soldiers when they stopped to pay us obeisance. I had fun surprising one work crew trying to pull down charred roof beams. I reached out with my mind's hand and did it for them. I even coached Aylem on how to approach soldiers and workers, and what she should say to them.

"Imstay, I don't know if I can do this," whispered an uncertain Aylem. I was struck again by the change in her. Two years ago, the Ice Queen would never have confessed such uncertainty.

"You did it in the army camp at the Crystal Shrine," I reminded her, "and you can do it again here."

"I didn't talk to soldiers at the army camp, lord unobservant," she frowned at me. "All I did was play-act with you, Kamagishi, and Emoskos Baker."

"And it was inspired play-acting," I reassured her. "You're a natural. You just need a little more practice. Smile, ask for names, and then use them. Inquire about where they are from, or guess it if they have a recognizable accent. Or find something to ask about, like an unusual pendant or hat. Just watch me talk to some folks. That should give you some examples to work from. Try to sit down when you talk to people. That's why we brought a chair."

"Didn't you bring that because you can't stop worrying about my pregnancy?" She looked annoyed with me. She got annoyed with me often, but she handled her annoyance much better these days. She still scared the contents of my poop tubes empty every time she struggled with her anger, but she was finally showing control. I told my stomach to settle and turned an encouraging face to her.

"No, I brought the chair because you're too tall. Most halfhairs and nohairs are intimidated by your size. Sitting down will help because they can look you in the eyes instead of looking up at your intimidating bulk."

The anguished grimace that traveled across her features was difficult to watch, but I wasn't worried. My confidence that she could do this was rewarded. Aylem really was a natural. She just didn't know it.

Halfway down the remains of the Northway, we came across a thirty-ish halfhair crafter that Aylem recognized. The woman was sitting on the paving stones in front of the ruins of a shop, tears running down her face.

"Craftmaster Prelb?" Aylem gently touched her shoulder, "Need to talk about it?"

The woman didn't look to see who was talking to her, "No, please, just let me be for now."

Behind us, people started to stop to see what was happening, which wasn't surprising given who we were. The King and Queen don't usually show up in the middle of a ruined market and stop to talk to a weeping craftmaster. We attracted a lot of attention.

Aylem noticed that Prelb's hands were abraded and bleeding in spots. Without thinking, she knelt, took Prelb's hands, and healed them. Startled, Prelb looked up and realized who had been talking to her.

Prelb gasped, turned pale, and knelt, bowing her head, "May the blessings of the eleven gods be upon you, Great One."

Aylem took her by the shoulders and asked, "Was this your shop?"

"No, this was the shop of Haddados Woodwright and her family."

"Haddados and Hapushe, her husband?"

"Yes. You—"

"I knew them. I healed their daughter Uxthados last year, and their son Wolkayrs was my friend." Aylem, still on her knees, wrapped her long arms around Prelb, and a sob escaped her. "I'm going to miss him. He was so good to me, even last year when I screwed up so badly with Emily, and his friend Asgotl."

I was shocked. Was this really Aylem?

"Haddados took care of me after my family died in a wagon crash," Prelb sobbed. "She and her family sold my goods, cleaned my house, cooked my meals, and put me back together. They were family to me when I had lost mine." She buried her head into Aylem's shoulder and the two women wept together. I noticed some wet eyes in the growing crowd around us. I might have shed a few tears myself.

"Would you like a charm of peace, Craftmaster?" Aylem asked, drying her eyes on her sleeve. "It might help you through this terrible day."

"Thank you, but no," Prelb choked back her grief to speak. "This grief is mine, and I will own it." She sniffled and blotted her own tears.

"How did you hurt your hands?" Aylem asked.

"I'm a fool," Prelb drooped, looking spent. "I was digging in the rubble, hoping to find something to remember them. I lost all my work gloves and everything else in the fire."

"Here," Aylem took one of Prelb's hands in one of hers, concentrated for a breath, and then a pair of work gloves appeared in her other hand. "The least I can do is give you gloves so you don't ruin your hands again. I lined them with fleece because it's cold out today." Aylem sniffled and put the gloves into Prelb's hands. I could hear more sniffles and quiet sobs in the people watching.

"I can't...I can't—" Prelb tried to refuse.

"You can, and you should," Aylem smiled very sadly, "to remember mutual friends." She folded her big hands over Prelb's and nodded. Prelb nodded back.

"Did you live over your shop?" Aylem asked. Prelb nodded again.

"Do you have a safe, warm place to sleep tonight?"

"Yes, I have a cot across the river, Great One."

"We have shared the same friends, Craftmaster, and I own things you have made. In a way, that makes me a patron of yours. If you need anything, I will see what I can do to help. Leave word with the High Priestess, who knows how to contact me, if you want to get a hold of me. I mean this. Understand?"

Prelb nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Aylem hugged her again, saying, "I can't say it will be alright because that would be a lie, but it will get more bearable as time goes on. The pain of grief will always be there, but there will also be a time of fond remembrance for all the good times you shared with them. Hold on to that."

Shortly after that, Aylem set up her chair and talked with the people who had gathered. For all the laborers and soldiers, she made everyone with whom she spoke a pair of gloves with her marvelous creation magic. I don't think any of the halfhairs or nohairs realized how unique her magic was or how special those gloves were. She smiled at them, asked about them, joked with them, and saw each off with a silver piece slipped into the gloves.

When she began to look tired, I stopped her and politely withdrew the two of us from the north market. We took the Inner Ring Road to the Westway and walked over the bridge with its patches of new planking to the tent city that had grown overnight across the river. I wanted Aylem to return to the shrine and rest, but she declined.

"I badgered Emily so I could do this, and I will continue. You can do all the talking now and I can look regal in the background. Maybe I'll find a cot and take a nap, and then spend some time healing afterward, regardless of what Lisaykos thinks. I have enough stamina to do more than just the worst case healings."

"They probably are saving some of those for you at the shrine," I pointed out, "given that we've been out here for almost two bells."

"You may be right about that," Aylem considered, and then I could tell she was mindcasting as we walked. "No, I'm good for now. The three I healed for this morning appear to have been the last serious cases. It's a relief, actually, that there were so few. It could have been a lot worse."

"You did well back there," I told her, and I meant it. "Where did you meet that Craftmaster? What was her name? Prelb? You know her well enough to offer her patronage? Now? You could be paying to rebuild her shop."

"Imstay," she shook her head at me, smiling sadly, "that's the bronzeworker who makes all the fittings for Emily's ice cream makers. If she needs it, I will cheerfully rebuild her shop. She owns one-half of the license to make ice cream makers. Priestess Healer Thuorfosi has just inherited the other half."

"Oh." Leave it to Aylem and her mercantile nose to know everyone else's business arrangements.

The older of your two guards stopped us just as we stepped off the bridge. "Great One, Mighty One," the lady wraith trainee bowed as she addressed us, "a griffin with a priestess of Tiki approaches from the north. She will land at the chapel shrine of Mugash."

"Are you a near-time precognisant?" I asked.

"I am a battle mage," she replied. "Before I was recruited for the Wraiths, I served at the Peaceful Shrine as a Priestess of Erhonsay."

I had wondered about a trainee old enough to have had children but now her age made sense. She was one of the priestess warmages that Usruldes recruited after the attack when the Impotuans kidnapped Emily. Eighteen wraiths died in that attack, too many for the small corps of wraiths.

"Please forgive my forwardness, but my battle sense tells me you two should go there now."

"We should fly, Imstay," Aylem said. "I can see the griffin in the distance already."

"Then let us go. You two should follow," I told the two wraith trainees.

Both bowed at us. The priestess warmage said, "Our orders are to follow you everywhere you go. Don't look so nervous, Mole," she told her younger colleague. "Give me your hand, and we can levitate together. I know you're still learning. I won't let you fall." She smiled at him in a motherly way.

His cheeks turned red, and he looked ashamed, "Thank you, Peregrine."

After that brief exchange, we left for the chapel shrine.