instant more and Jemhara rose up from her shape-shift, a woman black of hair, fair of face, naked as cloudless morning.
Outside, with an aggrieved rasp and crackling, the diamante wall gave way, showering the alley with sparklers that quickly dimmed and melted, then again froze over in the ordinary manner.
Inside the room Jemhara saw a fire burning, a glass goblet of wine, a green apple dewed with snow, a silver ring, a tall man made of shadow but with the eyes of an eagle.
For an old woman in rags she was haughty enough, so they all thought in the Holasan-garth. Brought to the Holas House by one of the night watch, she clacketed through the joyhall uninvited and unabashed, and stood there by the table, where this evening Arokâs wife was sitting among her women. Arok was away of course on his hunt. But the garth looked fine, decked with lamps and hangings, a couple of lions and a dozen dogs there, and some hawks on the rafters, and plenty of tough young men and weapons.
âPardon, Nirri-lady, she justââ
âHold your squeaks,â yapped the old crone the watch had let in, he said, from sheer compassion. âItâs her Iâll talk to.â
Nirri, who everyone knew had been a fishwife before Arok got her with child and wed her, was now an excellent Chaiordâs lady. She sat with dignity, and only a slight smile whisked over her mouth.
âSpeak then, Mother.â
âIâm no mother. I renounce any mother I was. Iâve come a long distance. I have mage powers.â
âYouâre a wise-woman?â
âBetter. Behold!â
There had been a cooked bird on the table. The old beldame pointed at it and it leapt, whole and live, covered all over in its original feathers, flailing its wings and knocking items about, honking through its angry beak before taking off into the rafters. The hawks fled.
The whole hall danced to its feet. Children shrilled, women yelled, men bellowed. The lions and dogs got up rumbling. Nirriâs girls were upset, but Nirri only said, âVery clever.â
â Clever ?â Granny did not like that evidently. âCan you do it?â
âNo, I can only cook it. Which is more useful, do you think?â
Some laughed. Others held their breath. After all this wise-woman was wise. Be careful.
But then the witch too broke into a cackle.
âWhat shall I do with it? Make it into a roast again?â
âNo, poor thing. Let it live now. Weâll eat something else.â
The old witch flumped herself down among the unsettled Jafn waiting ladies, and reached for a pie.
âYou must be hungry, madam,â said Nirri.
âNot unless I feel Iâd like to be.â The witch ate the pie. Something odd there. She had pedantically good table manners.
Nirri, who had brazened it out till now, began to experience a curious tug in her recollection. She stared at the witch. Where before had Nirri seen this raddled mop of yellow-grey-white hair, these creased yet once delicate features, hands and frame?
âDo you tell any your name, lady?â she asked the witch abruptly.
âIâll tell you. Not here. Who dâyou think me to be?â
âThere was an old â lady once, when I lived by the shore in the other country. Fishers found her and brought her to me. A great while she lay in my hut. She was a foreigner. I called her Saffi.â
The witchâs face broke like a plate in shards of bitterness.
âThat, that. You would have to recall that to me, wouldnât you? That was never me, fishwife. Just some bit of me that sloughed off. My real old age I shall never have. And so maybe I had to have it somewhere then. And besides, do you think I donât recall how you left the old bat in your hut, left her to her fate, didnât you, when the whale-demon poured up the vast wave? She must have died, must she not? Let me tell you, I met her after. Saffi . She taught me how to act this out, this
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