EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (48 page)

‘Well met,’ a girl said. ‘I’m Emala. Your parents own Mystoria, huh? I’ve been there before. It’s Mother’s favourite shop.’

Shyly I said, ‘Yeah.’

‘How old are you?’ she asked.

‘Thirteen.’

‘I’m twelve. How come you aren’t in my class? Ain’t you been to school before?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘Oh.’

There was an uncomfortable silence. Mother had said to be polite and friendly, but she’d never told me exactly what I should say to strange children.

‘So, what’s it like not being able to see?’

I tried not to be offended at her question. Mother had said that people would always be inquisitive about my eyes and not to let it bother me. ‘I can hear pretty good,’ I said.

Emala laughed. ‘Don’t you miss seeing things though? Like clouds and food and street lamps?’

‘Sometimes. But I’ve seen those things before. I’ve only been blind since I was ten.’

‘Oh.’ She paused. ‘My dad is Mayor Vawdon.’

I stiffened. ‘I’ve met him,’

‘Yes, I know. He told me yesterday. He said you were quiet, but I think that’s just because you don’t know anyone.’

Emala was easy to talk to, warm and kind. Mother did not like Emala’s father. But one thing I had learned was that a child’s temperament can be different from their parents’.

‘People tell me I’m shy,’ I said.

‘Yeah, see? Everyone is shy at first. But shyness just means you’re not ready to be your real self. I read that in a book once.’

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Emala was refreshingly genuine and reminded me of Jemely in that way. It was exciting to think that she was the first girl close to my age that I’d ever talked to.

‘So how come you’re at school? You can’t read or write ‘cause you can’t see, right?’

‘Yes. But I can still learn by hearing.’

‘I guess,’ she said, sounding unconvinced.

I’d asked myself that question the night before when Mother had suggested school.

Would I be any use at school if I couldn’t even see the teachers or the books? ‘I do like to learn,’ I added.

‘Really? Ugh,’ she said. ‘You’re weird. Everyone hates school.’

My hands became moist. Oh, no. I’d said the wrong thing. Would she hate me now?

‘My aunt makes me,’ I added, trying to backtrack on my odd remark.

‘Yeah, my father makes me too.’ She giggled.

‘Hey, Emala, made a new friend?’ Jark asked.

‘Thought you and your big mouth had to help the headmaster,’ she teased. ‘I heard what happened.’

‘Nah, dad’s the town crier. Donlage is too scared Dad will say something.’

‘Jark is nine,’ Emala said. ‘For someone so small, he’s really annoying.’ That started a fight between them, and they groaned and howled as they wrestled.

‘Shut up, Emala. I’ll be big enough to beat you before you know it,’ Jark said.

‘And until then you’ve only got teeny-weeny arms.’

I couldn’t help but laugh.

‘You shut up too, blind girl.’

‘Leave her alone, Jark. Why don’t you go play with people your own age? Us adults are talking.’

There was more squabbling, until another voice cut in, ‘Hey, Emala.’ Whoever was speaking sounded tired, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. I realised that other children must be standing around, listening to our conversation. I tipped my head forward, making my hair hide my face a little.

‘Frooby, how are you feeling?’ Emala asked.

As if to answer, Frooby coughed several times. His lungs sounded as if they’d been cut into strips. ‘As healthy as a baby deer,’ he croaked.

Emala chuckled. ‘This is Adenine.’

‘Hello, Adenine,’ Frooby said.

‘Well met.’ I held out my hand. Part of me still worried about passing on the plague. It was a feeling I couldn’t seem to shake, even though I had been cured.

Children giggled at me. ‘What a dork,’ Jark said, but Frooby took my hand, wrapping his soft fingers around mine. Something passed between our hands, a sort of warmth, a connection. I didn’t understand it, and I yanked my hand away.

‘Oh, Frooby and Adenine, dancin’ near the lovetree…’ Jark sang.

My cheeks became hot.

‘Frooby’s father owns a vegetable stall and a farm outside of town,’ Emala said.

‘I’ve met your father,’ I said. ‘His name is Derkal, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Frooby replied. ‘Who are your parents? Please forgive me. There is no excuse for not knowing who you are in this small town. I’ve spent too long inside.’ He cleared his throat.

‘Me too,’ I returned, but that brought silence to our group.

‘What do you mean?’ Frooby inquired.

I panicked. They’d think I was a freak if they knew I’d been shut inside my parents’ house for twelve years.

‘Oh, er, well I spent winter at my grandma’s house. I didn’t get out much.’

Jark snorted. ‘Adenine’s father, Garrad, was killed by her uncle, Ardonian. Do you remember? Her father was stabbed?’

‘Jark!’ Emala cried. ‘That’s both mean
and
rude.’

‘How terrible for you, Adenine. I am truly very sorry,’ Frooby said with a charm that I was certain could disarm even Jemely. ‘Excuse me. I need to go inside now.’ He coughed some more and moved away.

‘He’s such a weakling,’ Jark said.

‘He’s also six years older than you,’ Emala scolded. ‘You should be more respectful.’

‘Why? He doesn’t care.’

Then, without warning, someone touched my blindfold.

I brought my walking stick up and hit whoever it was across the face. There was a sickening cracking sound before I lost my balance and started to fall over backwards. I moved my arms back, trying to break my fall, and my fingers sank into the mud, scraping on the rocks beneath it.

‘Ouch! My nose!’ Jark cried. ‘Oh, it hurts.’

‘Serve you right, Jark,’ Emala said, laughing. ‘Oh, dear. It is bleeding, though.’

‘What’s going on here?’ an adult said. ‘Who did this to Jark?’

‘Adenine, Mr. Sagglewood.’

‘Well, is this any way to behave on your first day of school, Adenine? That’s a walking stick, not a sword.’

The stick was yanked from my hand, and another hand roughly gripped my arm and pulled me to my feet. ‘Explain yourself.’

‘I-I…’ But my words caught in my throat.

‘He deserved it, sir. Jark tried to take her blindfold off,’ Emala said.

‘That’s not true!’ Jark cried. ‘I didn’t do anything, and she hit me.’

The teacher sighed. ‘Let’s go see the headmaster, both of you.’

And Mr. Sagglewood moved us inside. I could hear Frooby coughing nearby, and when we were questioned by the headmaster, Frooby cut in, saying, ‘Headmaster, if I may?’

‘You saw this fight happen?’

‘Yes, sir. I was standing near the door. Jark reached for her blindfold without her permission. I don’t believe Adenine meant to hit him across the face. After all, she is blind. She couldn’t see what he was doing.’

‘You make a valid point.’ The headmaster banged the whipping cane against a table. ‘Jark, I already punished you today. Your behaviour has been appalling. Your father and I will be having words.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Jark said between gritted teeth.

‘And, Adenine, try to be more careful.’

‘Yes, sir. I’m sorry.’ I wiped at my tears. ‘I’m sorry, Jark.’

The boy didn’t reply.

‘Oh, well, I can see you didn’t mean it,’ the headmaster said. ‘Come now. Don’t cry. You’re not in trouble. Just be careful. I want no more fighting between you two. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Jark and I said in unison.

The last two lessons passed without any more trouble from Jark. No one else teased me either, and I wondered if the young kids were scared of me.

Great.
I’m the forest witch girl who beats people up with her stick. Maybe I should just move to Meligna with the rest of the witches.

When school was over, Emala offered to walk me to the council building, where her father worked. The idea of walking with my new friend was exciting. Besides, Varago and Jemely would probably see me on the way.

As Emala and I walked, she asked, ‘So, what happened to you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your eyes.’

I paused, wondering what I should say. ‘I burned them with water. It was a while ago.’

‘You poor thing, that must have been so traumatic,’ she said and guided me out of the path of a horse drawn cart. The hooves clacked against the ground as it passed. ‘Greetings,’ Emala called cheerily.

‘It wasn’t that bad. I fainted at the time, so I don’t really remember much.’

‘If you don’t remember, then how do you know you burned them?’

The question caught in my mind like a fly in a sticky-trap. Up until then, I’d thought that part was strange too. I’d asked Varago about it, and he said that when the body experiences shock, the mind forgets in order to protect itself. But I remembered the worst parts: the blood, Uncle Garrad’s body, and how he’d attacked me. So why didn’t I remember burning my eyes? I struggled to remember the order in which the events happened, but everything was so muddled in my head. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.

‘My parents told me what happened,’ I said.

‘Couldn’t they have lied?’

I clenched my hands into fists. How could she ask me that? ‘Why do you care?’ I asked, folding my arms, which was difficult to do while holding a walking stick.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you. I guess… it just doesn’t make sense. Your face isn’t burnt.’

‘And? You weren’t there. Did your father tell you to ask me these questions?’

‘My father?’ she asked.

‘Yes, your father. He asked me the same things yesterday. In fact, lots of people have. I burned my eyes, all right? There’s nothing more to it.’ I stormed away. She wasn’t my friend; she just wanted to laugh at my misfortune like everyone else. I was too annoyed to go home, so I walked around for a while, clumsily navigating the streets, noting the familiar noises of the busy town.

‘Veal, chicken, pork, what meat do ya desire? Red, white, or pink, eh?’ the butcher called.

Then I passed the hammering of a carpenter, who I thought might be Krejald, and when he yelled, ‘Greetings!’ I yelled hello back.

Spring had begun to leave winter behind. While the nights were still freezing, the midday air filled with the chirps and cries of busy animals. I knew the lambs would have been born, the ducklings would be waddling clumsily behind the mother ducks, and the calves would be at their mother’s teats. But I had never seen it with my own eyes. Well, I’d seen some of the animals on my uncle’s farm, but it was so long ago that I’d forgotten.

The sounds of the town fell behind me, and with each step, I was careful to check with my stick that the ground in front of me was flat. I felt more and more pulled towards the surrounding forests of the west side of town, which I could tell judging by the position of the sun. As I passed beneath trees, daylight seemed to be playing hide and seek with me as my sight turned from red, to pink, to maroon.

Upon hearing a twig snap, I stopped walking. Someone was there, and one part of me said I should run. But I wanted to be brave; I
needed
to be brave. The person came closer. I clenched my fists and stiffened my arms, determined not to move.
Have courage
. The person would fear me. But when my resolve weakened, I realised everything I was telling myself was a lie. I turned to run.

‘Stop,’ a woman ordered.

I froze.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that you knew I was here when I was so far away, or I would have called out greet you. It was not my intention to startle you.’

I recognised the voice—Healer Euka. Mother didn’t like the woman, and that put me on my guard. I could smell the sweet perfume of soaps and oils on the breeze. The healer witches must be rich. Her fragrance was different: a mixed bouquet of wild flowers with a hint of pine. I breathed in deeply.

‘It’s Healer Euka.’

‘I remember you,’ I said.

Should I be afraid? A witch was a bad person. The North and the South did not like each other, yet I remembered that Mother had said King Erageo wanted peace. I remembered Varago’s hating of the healers; he had called them golden whores, but I still did not understand the meaning of the phrase.

‘Someone…’ I paused, thinking about how to frame my question. ‘My friend said you are a whore.’

She laughed. ‘Really? I don’t believe so. But I supposed what I practice could cause me to be mistaken for one.’

I didn’t want to ask what a whore was. It wasn’t polite conversation with a stranger. But I was talking to a healer, a feared woman of the North, and she didn’t seem threatening at all. ‘Are you a queen?’

The woman chuckled. ‘Oh no, I’m an ambassador of sorts. I’m on my way to Juxon City to see the king. What’s your name?’

‘Adenine.’

‘How lovely.’ As she moved closer, the strong smell of her perfume filled the air again, and material rustled as she walked. ‘Adenine, can I ask you a question?’

I hesitated. ‘Um, yes.’

‘We talked about your eyes last time, remember?’

‘Yes,’ I said, my stomach beginning to knot. For some reason, I became nervous when people asked about my eyes. It was stupid that I had hurt myself. It reminded me of that bad day. Was it sport for people to keep bringing it up?

‘Do you actually remember scalding them with hot water?’

I was shocked. Emala had asked me the very same question only moments ago. I was beginning to doubt that the incident had happened at all. But I’d woken up blind; I knew that much. Something had happened. And Mother wouldn’t lie to me about something so important. I had to trust her. I did trust her. ‘Yes.’ I said eventually. ‘Can you really heal people?’

She sniffed. ‘Of course.’

‘How?’

‘I will tell you. But first, I want to see your eyes. I won’t touch them. I just want to see how they are damaged. I might be able to heal them for you.’

My heart raced. The idea that I’d be able to see again thrilled me. I knew she had special healing powers, and all she wanted was just to look at the scars on my eyes. Surely, that wouldn’t hurt?

She moved closer, and I reached for my blindfold.

‘Adenine!’ Varago yelled.