Maker of Fire

Lisaylos, Is'syal, 18th year of Imstay's reign, Growing Season, 8th rotation, 7th day

I borrowed working clothes from the Queen and was still wearing them when Kamagishi kicked me out of the great hall of the Fated Shrine. I lost track of time healing flood victims and worked straight through the night and into the following day. I took a short break to find something to eat sometime after the sixth bell. That was when Kamagishi found me.

After she gave me grief for working too hard, she evicted me from great hall. I didn't want to eat in the guest house dining room. I was feeling too grumpy to keep up polite appearances, so I returned to my guest room. I tried to rest but was too hungry and agitated to sleep.

It was still raining. I cast a thin barrier to keep the water off of me and grabbed my hooded mantle as I walked out the door. I couldn't hide my height but at least I could walk the streets with my hood up to avoid the obeisances of passers-by.

My feet took me over to the Westway. Since no one knew me here, I indulged myself and bought two skewers of grilled grouse and nips. I ignored the voice of my deceased high priestess mother in the back of my head, lecturing me about decorum and appearances. It was unbecoming for a princess to be seen eating cheap street food in public, after all. I banished my mother's posthumous nagging and enjoyed my skewers. I committed a further sin by eating them while walking. I smiled at the thought of my staff being appalled that I would stoop to eat street food. Little did they know that I considered street food a treat, the consequence of attending too many formal dinners and feasts as a child princess, and later as a high priestess.

I cast the charm of vanishing on the empty beaver reed skewers before knocking on the door at Six Brewers' Row. A middle-aged nohair in a housekeeper's kirtle and apron answered the door. She gasped when she looked up at me, realizing that a silverhair was on her doorstep. She eyed the embroidered sigil on my mantle nervously.

"Welladay, my lady," she recovered her composure in a breath. "How may I serve you?"

"I would like to speak with Craftmaster Oyyuth Kas'syo, if she is available."

"I will fetch her. Please, my lady, come in from the rain," the housekeeper opened the door all the way. I had to duck my head to enter, thinking that my son probably had to duck too.

The reception foyer and hallway were paneled with well-oiled oak and floored with glazed terracotta tiles. The housekeeper disappeared down the hall.

A full-figured woman in her thirties appeared, a frown of concern framing her hazel eyes as she approached. She was on the short side for a halfhair, silver intermixed with chestnut brown in her curly hair. She wore it in a disciplined bun. A few strands had escaped to frame her heart-shaped face.

She wore a quilted jacket over a sensible gown. Her cloth was excellent. The Kas'syo family was what people called crafter nobility, wealthier than some lord holders and just as famous. Though I would have found Irhessa a noble silverhair wife, he could have married much worse after running away from home. I was grateful that my son had the good taste to partner with a woman of such good standing. I wasn't one of those who believed halfhairs or crafters were unworthy of marriage with nobles.

She recognized the embroidered sigil of Mugash on my mantle and dropped to her knees. Before she could pay me obeisance, I reached down and picked her up, placing her on her feet.

"Craftmaster Kas'syo, obeisance is not necessary between family members inside one's home," I told her.

She looked startled and then worried, "Please, Holy One, has something happened to that little Coyn or my husband? Is that why you are here? To bring news?" She had paled as she spoke.

I tried to look and sound reassuring, "They are both fine. They encountered bad weather and took shelter last night in a warm, dry place. I expect them to return once the worst of the weather passes. I had some time to spend and decided I would like to meet my son's family, now that I know who you are."

I watched as she closed her eyes for a moment and her shoulders relaxed in relief.

"He's safe," she sighed, "thank the gods." Then she composed herself, "Holy One, have you eaten? We just sat down for dinner. You are welcome to join us. There's more than enough though it is a rather simple meal."

"Craftmaster, you are my son's wife," I studied my new daughter by marriage. "You should follow custom and call me Mother Lisaykos, since you already know who I am."

"But you're...," she began to protest.

"Yes, I am well aware of my standing," I sighed, "but I would love to meet my grandchildren without any of that nonsense in the way, at least initially. I know I can't hide my hair or how tall I am, but I find that I am rather fond of being called grandmother."

I guess what I said impressed my son's wife because she visibly relaxed and smiled suddenly. "Well, Mother Lisaykos," there was a mischievious glint in her eyes, "you should let me hang up your mantle where the children can't see it. And if I'm to call you Mother Lisaykos inside my home, you should call me Oyyuth."

She walked over to a wardrobe by the door and opened it, "We can put the mantle in here for now." She handed me a small hanging bar appropriate for a mantle. I draped the mantle on the bar and handed it back.

"So, do I need to set another place for dinner? I know the children will be thrilled. My mother died when I was young and my father died before I had my two youngest so only my oldest remembers having a grandparent."

"I will stay for dinner. How many children do you have?" I asked, consumed with curiosity.

"That husband of mine didn't tell you?" Oyyuth was surprised. "Have you had a chance to sit down and talk with him at all? From what he told me, you didn't speak much four nights ago when you ran into each other."

"We have not spoken at length," I stated, feeling conflicted. "I wanted to meet my grandchildren at least once, just in case Irhessa and I end up not speaking to one another afterward. I know I will be seeing your oldest once she enrolls at the shrine, but I know nothing about any other children you might have."

"Surely it can't be all that grim," Oyyuth said as she led me down the hall and turned right onto a longer hallway. "I've been expected something like this to happen for years now, except I thought it would happen before now. Here," she opened a door on the right, "let's step into my study for a brief moment." I stepped inside and sat in what was obviously a chair for a guest facing her work table. She closed the door behind me.

Oyyuth pulled open a drawer in the table and removed a letter box, "I don't want the children to accidentally overhear. I've been working on my courage to contact you for the last few years. This is my collection of letters I can never manage to complete," she handed me the box and sat down, looking pensive. "It's not easy to try to write someone who is a High Priestess and a Princess, to say, 'Hello, you don't know me but I married your runaway son.'"

I pulled seven folded pieces of parchment out of the letter box and skimmed them, "Was it really that difficult?"

"Mother Lisaykos," Oyyuth's expression was a conversation all by itself, telling me I ought to know better, "I may be one of the leading citizens of Is'syal, but the gap between me and the royal house of Foskos is one no commoner can cross. I need to remind you that Irhessa's great grandfather was Imdeseop King. Because Irhessa is within three degrees of royal descent, his marriage should have received approval from the current King and the Convocation. By the law of the land, the Convocation could send me to the mines with my property and business forfeit to the King and my children mind-wiped and adopted by strangers."

"Did you know who Irhessa was when you married him?" I had to ask.

"I knew he was on the run from his family. I didn't know he was noble until the night after our wedding, when he told me everything. To be honest, I have never worried about Imstay King. Imstay was the one who played matchmaker between us. He visits here when he needs to escape the palace. I know the King well. It's the Convocation that worries me, and you in particular. You are the most private and reclusive of all the High Priestesses. You rarely leave Aybhas and you seldom appear in public. With regards to a matter like this, common knowledge about you is not helpful. Your reputation is that you are strict, stern, proper, and law-abiding, though usually fair. I've never been able to guess how you might react if I ever found the courage to send one of those letters. That makes you dangerous. I found myself weighing a grandparent for my children against the possible ruin of my house, family, and fortune. That's quite a face, Mother Lisaykos."

"I confess, I never thought about any of those things," I replied, a bit shocked by her pragmatic analysis. "I had forgotten about erasing children's memories and adopting them out to strangers. I believe that was done to remove the offspring of an illegal marriage from the line of succession for the throne."

I sighed and considered my son's circumstances. If I remembered correctly, a Kas'syo married a haup Gampff a few generations back, so Oyyuth's descent wasn't bad. Given that she had avoid me to protect her family meant she wasn't interested in social climbing or exploiting a relationship with me. She had kept her relationship with the King quiet and discreet, which spoke well of her character. As the Presiding Craftmaster Elect for Is'syal, Oyyuth's social standing was just short of being noble. My son had married an outstanding woman. I wanted to get to know her better.

"Daughter Oyyuth, you have nothing to fear from the Convocation. Once this gets out, your only worry will be the line of nosy high priestesses at your door wanting to meet you and my son. They are the worst clutch of gossiping hens you are likely to meet, starting with that golden-eyed gossipmonger here in town at the Fated Shrine."

Oyyuth laughed, "Oh, you're right about the Holy Kamagishi. She is quite fond of what she calls social news."

"So, how many new grandchildren do I have?"

"Three," Oyyuth retrieved the letters and the box and put them away. "Fed'soas is the oldest. She's twelve. She's also motion personified. She has to work to stay still and stick to her studies. I worry about that a lot, especially since she will be traveling far from home to be trained. Troyeepay is my only boy. He's seven. He's quiet and very smart. He adores his father and tries to be like him. He's also very sweet. Imstay says he's got magic, though I didn't know magic could be discerned in a child that young. Amoythoy is our youngest. She's one and a half, so she doesn't eat with us. She usually eats in the nursery. She won't join the family at dinner until she learns her table manners. She's already in bed for the evening."

Oyyuth led me down the central hallway to the second door on the left. Inside was a spacious dining chamber. The two children were seated on either side of the currently-empty chair at the end of the large table. As head of the household, that was obviously Oyyuth's seat.

"Children, we have company," Oyyuth announced.

Both instantly got to their feet, which pleased me. Well-mannered children are a joy. The girl had the blond hair that's common in the Gunndit family, though I could see a lot of silver coming in at the roots. She had her father's thin face and build, but not the haup Foskos nose, thank the gods. She had her mother's hazel eyes. She would have stunning looks when she grew up.

The boy, Troyeepay, looked like his mother, with the strong chin and the curly chestnut hair, though he had the grey eyes that tend to run in the haup Foskos bloodline. I could tell, despite his youth, that my newest grandson had the nose, poor boy.

"Fed, Troy, I would like you to meet your grandmother," Oyyuth said, pulling out the chair next to Troyeepay. "Mother Lisaykos, please sit down and I'll get a place setting and your dinner." She hurried out of the room, leaving me with two awestruck children.

I sat down, "Please, be seated you two." I tried to look friendly without resorting to the scary smile.

"Are you really my father's mother?" the girl, Fed'soas, asked, slowing sinking into her chair across from me.

"Seeing that I carried him for a year and a half, and then gave birth to him, I have reason to believe that I am indeed his mother." I raised one eyebrow at my dubious granddaughter while my grandson tried to contain his laughter and succeeded. I raised my other eyebrow at him and he raised his right back.

"Do you have a question, Troyeepay?" I asked him.

"When did you meet our father?" he inquired, with more solemnity than most seventy year olds. "How did you find him? I thought he ran away from you?"

"Ah," I had to pick my words with care, "we met five days ago, by accident. It was a little earlier than anticipated. Your father planned for us to meet about fifteen rotations from now."

"He did?" Troyeepay's jay dropped and he reverted to looking like a surprised child instead of a seventy-year-old sage.

"Your father intended to bring your family to meet me in Aybhas," I explained.

"You're a healer?" Fed'soas brightened, her smiling lighting up the dining chamber. "You work at the Healing Shrine? I'm going to be training there come Cold Season."

"Yes, my son told me about your enrollment," I nodded. "I am a healer and I work at the main shrine. I specialize in healing head injuries."

"Why are you trying not to smile?" Troyeepay asked. My grandson was sharp. I never thought I'd get called out by a seven year old. I would need to watch what I said around him.

"Most people are unsettled when I smile," I explained, "so I try not to do so in front of people I don't know or who I have just met. My eyebrows have such a steep angle to them that I look like I enjoy torturing people when I smile."

"Show me?" Fed'soas asked, bouncing in her chair.

"Fed, that was rude," Troyeepay chided her.

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Too."

I laughed at the nostalgia of bickering children.

"Wow," Fed'soas blinked. "You really do look evil when you laugh."

I hooked my hands like claws, raised my arms menacingly over my head and loomed over Fed'soas, "I am evil when I laugh." I laughed for effect and then swooped in to tickle her sides. Troyeepay let out squeal of merriment at my teasing his sister. Fed'soas shreeked and squirmed to get away from me. She was unsuccessful.

Oyyuth and her housekeeper returned to the dining chamber at the moment of noise and hilarity. Setting a plate of food in front of me, Oyyuth smiled with satisfied contentment, "I guess I don't need to worry that you won't get along with your grandchilden."