Read Online The Chronicles of Mavin Manyshaped by Sheri S. Tepper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sheri S. Tepper
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Then, in moments, in a breath, he was all kindly thalan to us both, full of good will as a new keg is of air.”
The boy frowned, seemed to concentrate. “I don’t know, Mavin. It’s just something that happens sometimes when I don’t want people to be cross. It’s nicer to be happy and contented, so I do the thing and everyone feels better.” He stared at his feet, flushed. “I guess I make them love me.”
For a moment she did not understand what he had said. She confused it in her mind with something natural and childish he might have said, “I guess I make them love me. ...” What could he have meant? Some childish game? Some pretend magic? Then came a sickening combination of horror and understanding as she understood what he meant, a kind of nausea, yet with fascination in it. “Did you ... did you do that to Handbright, Mertyn?”
He nodded guiltily. “Otherwise she would have gone away. I would have been lonely. That’s the real reason she stayed, Mavin. I made her stay.”
She could not keep the words inside. They spilled out. “I wonder if you have any idea how horrible that was for her ...” Her anger went away as quickly as it had come at the response she saw. The boy wept, his face flushed and red, tears flowing in a stream, his thin chest heaving with the pain of it, all at once bereft and cast down by tragedy, lost to it.
“I’m so sorry, Mavin. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, really until you told me. They said ... they said it wasn’t so bad, not really. They said women just complained to be complaining. When I saw her so sad, I should have known better, Mavin. Truly. Shall we find her and tell her? Will she forgive me?”
She was distressed at his grief, as distressed as she had been at what he had said. A child. Eight years, perhaps twenty-five seasons in all? Certainly no more than that. And yet, to have bewitched Handbright, kept her behind the p’natti to be abused, used, beaten ... She pulled herself together. “There, child. There. No one really expects that you should have known better. I don’t myself. Handbright is gone. I told her she must go away ... as soon as we were gone. She isn’t there any more, so we needn’t go back. I’m all adrift, Mertyn. I don’t know what to say to you. I’m just amazed that you can do this thing. But I’ve never felt you do it to me, Mertyn.”
“I wouldn’t do it to you, Mavin. You’re childer, like me. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Ah. Do you know what it means, Mertyn child? It means you’re probably not shifter. It means you must be Ruler, King or Prince or one of those high-up Beguilers. But you only eight years old? A twenty-four or -five season child, and showing Talent already? I’ve never heard of that.”
“I didn’t think it was Talent. I thought it was just something I could do.”
“Well, that’s what Talent is, boychild. That’s all Talent is, something we can do. Well.” She looked at him in amazement, seeing that the world around them had become less shining, less marvelous, less peaceful. “You were doing it this morning.”
“Not to you. Just to me, to the world. To make it prettier for us. You know.”
“What I know, Mertyn, is that you’d better keep that thing you can do very quiet to yourself. Don’t use it unless there’s need. I’m worried now that those men may begin to think, there on the road, of how sweet a child you were, and thinking may lead them to more thinking, which might lead them to deciding you have a Talent. And there’s a market for any child, much more a child with Talent. I worry they may start thinking and come back for us. Me they’d hit over the head and leave for dead, but you they’d sell, I think.”
He considered this, thinking it over gravely before saying, “I don’t think so, Mavin. Truly. No one has ever thought it was Talent. Not in all this time ...”
“All this time? How long have you been doing this thing?”
“Oh, since I was a
The boy frowned, seemed to concentrate. “I don’t know, Mavin. It’s just something that happens sometimes when I don’t want people to be cross. It’s nicer to be happy and contented, so I do the thing and everyone feels better.” He stared at his feet, flushed. “I guess I make them love me.”
For a moment she did not understand what he had said. She confused it in her mind with something natural and childish he might have said, “I guess I make them love me. ...” What could he have meant? Some childish game? Some pretend magic? Then came a sickening combination of horror and understanding as she understood what he meant, a kind of nausea, yet with fascination in it. “Did you ... did you do that to Handbright, Mertyn?”
He nodded guiltily. “Otherwise she would have gone away. I would have been lonely. That’s the real reason she stayed, Mavin. I made her stay.”
She could not keep the words inside. They spilled out. “I wonder if you have any idea how horrible that was for her ...” Her anger went away as quickly as it had come at the response she saw. The boy wept, his face flushed and red, tears flowing in a stream, his thin chest heaving with the pain of it, all at once bereft and cast down by tragedy, lost to it.
“I’m so sorry, Mavin. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, really until you told me. They said ... they said it wasn’t so bad, not really. They said women just complained to be complaining. When I saw her so sad, I should have known better, Mavin. Truly. Shall we find her and tell her? Will she forgive me?”
She was distressed at his grief, as distressed as she had been at what he had said. A child. Eight years, perhaps twenty-five seasons in all? Certainly no more than that. And yet, to have bewitched Handbright, kept her behind the p’natti to be abused, used, beaten ... She pulled herself together. “There, child. There. No one really expects that you should have known better. I don’t myself. Handbright is gone. I told her she must go away ... as soon as we were gone. She isn’t there any more, so we needn’t go back. I’m all adrift, Mertyn. I don’t know what to say to you. I’m just amazed that you can do this thing. But I’ve never felt you do it to me, Mertyn.”
“I wouldn’t do it to you, Mavin. You’re childer, like me. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Ah. Do you know what it means, Mertyn child? It means you’re probably not shifter. It means you must be Ruler, King or Prince or one of those high-up Beguilers. But you only eight years old? A twenty-four or -five season child, and showing Talent already? I’ve never heard of that.”
“I didn’t think it was Talent. I thought it was just something I could do.”
“Well, that’s what Talent is, boychild. That’s all Talent is, something we can do. Well.” She looked at him in amazement, seeing that the world around them had become less shining, less marvelous, less peaceful. “You were doing it this morning.”
“Not to you. Just to me, to the world. To make it prettier for us. You know.”
“What I know, Mertyn, is that you’d better keep that thing you can do very quiet to yourself. Don’t use it unless there’s need. I’m worried now that those men may begin to think, there on the road, of how sweet a child you were, and thinking may lead them to more thinking, which might lead them to deciding you have a Talent. And there’s a market for any child, much more a child with Talent. I worry they may start thinking and come back for us. Me they’d hit over the head and leave for dead, but you they’d sell, I think.”
He considered this, thinking it over gravely before saying, “I don’t think so, Mavin. Truly. No one has ever thought it was Talent. Not in all this time ...”
“All this time? How long have you been doing this thing?”
“Oh, since I was a
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