The Tales of Tarya, Books 1-3

Chapter 8 - True Seeing-2

Even as a child Mina knew not to speak such thoughts out loud, for story tellers were supposed to be above petty considerations of fame and gold. Their gift was to be shared with all, no matter how poor, or distant. Yet for all the Festival of Light celebrations she’d known, she could count barely a smattering of visits from story tellers, although this should be the best time to travel to distant villages, in the golden, warm days of summer, with few showers and a land burgeoning with good food.

Thoughts of bright sunlight faded in the darkness of the forest, but the gentle, happy memories remained. Mina and Paolo had been inseparable during the Festival of Lights. The difference in their ages, which had become a painful, impossible gap for Mina during the last, sad season before her brother left, mattered not at all when making lanterns and dancing through the tiny streets.

‘Mina?’ Lisette looked into her face with concern.

Mina gave her friend a half smile, her eyes sad. ‘I was remembering celebrations from my childhood,’ she said.

Lisette gazed out over Petruchio’s broad brown back. ‘Celebrations can be dark times when someone is missing from them,’ she said softly, and was silent again. Suddenly Mina felt her secret was a terrible burden, keeping her alone amongst the noise and companionship of the players.

‘I lost my brother,’ she said.

Lisette glanced at her. ‘How did he die?’

Mina shook her head. ‘He didn’t. He left. I don’t know where.’

‘Perhaps you’ll find him. Litonya, it is not so big.’ Lisette smiled, a smile that quickly slipped from her face. Mina took a deep breath. Suddenly she wanted to tell Lisette everything, and ask for her help. Maybe Lisette would know how to find out about Paolo without revealing Mina’s quest to the others. Though Mina felt like part of the troupe now, she’d seen enough intimations of danger to remain wary until she knew why Paolo had left.

Lisette spoke before Mina could. ‘I had a little baby girl.’ She was looking straight ahead, her face grim. ‘You want to know why I live in Rien no more. I had a little daughter. She is dead now.’

She pulled her silver locket out from her neck and opened it. Inside, behind a sliver of glass, was a swirl of hair so golden it was almost white. Mina looked down at the unchanging, moving road, and the thoughts of her brother vanished.

‘She was born with a caul, a sign of powers. In my village, are many superstitious peoples. They tell me drown her, but I refuse.’

Mina turned to offer consolation. Lisette continued to look determinedly ahead, twisting the reins between her fingers.

‘I tell no one before you. It hurts in my heart too much. But you are kind. And you must understand, how it can be. Even kindness, it can kill.’ She brought her hands together, fingers pointing forward, then opened the palms outwards in the sign of the Creator. ‘He care for my girl now.’

‘What was her name?’ Mina asked.

‘Liliana. She was beautiful, my Columbina. This means little dove, in my country.’

Mina was startled, remembering how Paolo had used to call her his dove.

Lisette continued. ‘She used to dance with her arms up to the air, laughing. From when she walk she start this. She told me she dance with the sun. But also when she start to talk, she know what will happen. The other children, they thought it fun, to know. When a baby is to be born, if a cow will die. I say not to tell, but the other children, they ask. What could I do? Not let her play?’

‘How old was she when …?’

‘She was five. She said our patron will become sick and go to Tarya. They know she mean die, and they say she is making him to die. They say she has the Arcani. They lock me away, then take her. I hear later they drown her.’

Lisette continued to look out at the road, her back straight and her eyes dry. One of the reins was wrapped so tightly around her fist the skin was white.

‘What cruel, cruel people!’ The words burst out of Mina.

‘No,’ Lisette said. ‘They want to do right thing, to save the village. If the patron die, many will starve. Many work for him.’

‘But to kill a child! It’s evil.’

Lisette finally looked at Mina. ‘They think she is an adult, with spells. They did not see what they want to do as wrong. This is why I tell you this. It can seem easy to do the wrong thing if you think it is right.’

‘It’s easy to tell what’s wrong and right, Lisette!’

‘No. Not all times. And they did not mean to kill her. They meant only to wash the Sight away. But she was so small.’

She pulled her ever-present shawl forward over her hair, covering her face.

‘It must be a terrible burden, the pain,’ Mina whispered.

Lisette’s hand reached out and grabbed Mina’s wrist. Her grip was tight. ‘I did not tell you so I would have less of a burden. I told you so you will understand. Darkness can come from what seems to help others. Bad is done for the good of all.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Mina asked, feeling Lisette’s grip tight on her arm. ‘What are you warning me about?’

‘The Sight, it runs in my family. When you understand, it will be too late.’

‘Then tell me now!’

‘I can’t!’ Lisette sobbed from beneath the scarf, and released Mina’s hand.

Mina drew her into an embrace. ‘And the patron?’

‘He died anyway,’ Lisette said with a small, bitter smile.

‘I can see why you left your home, after what they did.’

Lisette’s body shuddered with her tears, and when she spoke again her voice was muffled. ‘I did not leave,’ she said. ‘They drove me out. Even my husband.’

~

They left the forest finally after the moon had passed its zenith, and found some clear, scrubby ground to encamp. In the morning, with five days remaining until the festival, Uberto set a punishing pace for the horses from first light, and they travelled all day, making good progress through lightly treed woods, stopping occasionally to rest the horses.

At sunset, when Uberto was satisfied they had covered enough ground, they rehearsed for an exhaustingly long time. Mama Tina, watching from the audience, could see that Mina grew more comfortable with each new story she learned. Uberto was driving them hard, but only as hard as necessary with the festival competition coming so soon. After Uberto had finished yet another scene, he hurried down from the stage to join his wife.

‘Cristina, sweetheart, what do you sense? Do we have Mina’s loyalty yet? Mourini has been watching her work in Tarya with much interest.’

‘I’m not sure, Uberto. She’s holding part of herself back.’

‘We have to know by the time we reach Aurea. If she is not one of us, Mourini will not want her powers to develop any further.’

Mama Tina gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘I’ll do what I can,’ she said. ‘Isabella’s asked me to See for Mina. I’ll give your plan a little push.’

Uberto called an end to rehearsal then, and after they had all packed up Mama Tina took Isabella and Mina into the costume wagon, a purple velvet cloth bundled in her arms. She pushed aside a pile of soiled costumes with an angry glare at Isabella, making her way to Mina’s bunk, where she unfolded the velvet to reveal a clear ball of crystal.

Lisette entered the wagon then, pushing past the trio with a disapproving glance, to reach her own bed beyond the curtain. Mama Tina gestured for Mina to sit at her side and took her hand, peering at it closely in the candlelight.

‘If I tell of a tall, handsome man bringing love, you won’t believe I have the Sight. We can all see that.’

Behind Mina, Isabella giggled. Mina looked at each of them in turn, confused.

‘Oh, don’t be silly Mina. We’ve all noticed you and Dario!’ Isabella said.

‘No!’ Mina choked out. ‘I wouldn’t … it’s not allowed.’

‘It’s fine, Mina,’ Mama Tina said. ‘What’s between you is real, not a dalliance. But I do See more. I See your gifts.’

Mama Tina pointed to a strange mark on Mina’s hand, like the whorls of a fingerprint on the skin. ‘This is a sign that the Creator has marked you as his own.’

Mama Tina looked to the distance as though trying to make out something just beyond the range of vision.

‘You have suffered much loss … it has given you deep pain, but also deep purpose. The path you are on was begun many years ago. You will soon reach an end. But often an end is but the beginning of a new journey. There are great shadows here … no, not shadows, but mountains. Much will be demanded of you. Yours is a solitary role, and one of …’ her voice deepened, ‘… of great import. Whom the Creator has thus marked will bring new gifts to our land. Yet there is a price to pay, beyond what has been paid. Those who are family will turn, and though you find what you seek, it will bring great pain. But the Creator is with you. You must develop your gifts.’

With that, Mama Tina turned white and slumped against Isabella, gazing at nothing.

‘Is this normal?’ Mina asked.

‘No. Get Uberto,’ Isabella hissed.

Mina hurried from the wagon to find Uberto. She soon brought him back to the costume wagon, by which time Mama Tina was sitting up.

Uberto helped his wife to stand. ‘Time to rest love,’ he said.

‘It never used to take this much from me,’ Mama Tina replied sadly.

Mina rummaged in her bag, kept on a hook on the wall, then turned and took one of Mama Tina’s hands between both her own.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

Uberto helped his wife from the wagon and back to their own. Mama Tina waited until they were on their own mattress, wrapped in the dark, before she spoke.

‘I’ve encouraged her as far as Dario is concerned,’ she said. ‘But I’m not sure she’ll ever give blind loyalty.’

‘Dario will always be loyal to us,’ Uberto replied. ‘He has been one of us since he was small. He knows no other life. If Mina loves him, she will stay with us.’

‘Then when she finds out the extent of what we take from Tarya …’ Mama Tina began.

‘Hopefully her loyalty to us will be greater than loyalty to a faceless dreamer.’

‘There’s a problem,’ Mama Tina said. ‘It was a true Seeing. Some of what was said … I feel like she’s part of our family now, but her future lies in a different direction.’

‘Tell me everything,’ Uberto replied. Mama Tina told him the words of prophecy she’d spoken. Uberto lay silent in the blackness of the wagon. Mama Tina reached for his hand and placed a small item in it.

‘She gave me this when she thanked me,’ she said. ‘It’s silver.’

Uberto twisted the small coin between his fingers. To give an Innaroi seer silver was to ensure they were unable to curse you. If Mina decided to leave them, Mama Tina’s hands were now tied.

~

Mina lay in the dark on her bunk, thinking about Mama Tina’s words. Her father had told her to find her own stories. Was this the same gift Mama Tina had spoken about? And how was she to find it if she only told player stories? Her head was full with all the stories she was expected to remember after today’s rehearsal. It was becoming easier though. Wearing a mask was beginning to feel familiar, and she had found that if she concentrated on her physical body, she barely felt the slight distortion that occurred when she first put it on. But none of it felt very important. She moved the story on, she created scenery, but what difference would it make to anything? It didn’t feel of great import. In truth, Mama Tina’s message had chilled her. It seemed the players knew about and approved of Dario, yet Mama Tina had mentioned a solitary role. What did that mean? Was a romance between them doomed before it began? Or doomed to never begin?