Maker of Fire

Lisaykos, Healing Shrine of Mugash

Wolkayrs took care of setting my son up for the night in one of the guest rooms on the fourth floor. I made my way downstairs and out to the trainee residence. The first-year trainees shared quarters, six to a room. The trainees for the first three years ate in their own separate dining hall unless it was a special occasion when the whole shrine ate in the great hall, which was the only room large enough.

I had avoided seeing my granddaughter because I didn't want to create any favoritism problems. I had seen her at whole shrine assemblies twice, from a distance but that was it. I had arranged the trip to the Gunndit first growing day festival through normal channels, with a note sent to her floor supervisor just like any other family member who wanted to take their children home for the two-day holiday.

Today would mark the first time I bent my own rules, but after 20 years of not having my son in my life, I found myself feeling remarkably greedy about spending time with my new family. It was a shame we couldn't get Oyyuth and the other two children here. I would have to make sure that Irhessa spent at least a day at his home before he returned to his current task.

I noted with interest, but no reaction on my part, the startled expressions of the shrine staff who I passed in the hallways of the first story. I usually spent two to three bells a day making my rounds of the patient wards and administrative offices and otherwise kept my nose out of my supervising healers' business unless asked. I had enough of my own work to do; I didn't want to micromanage my staff. So the sight of me downstairs after the sixth bell was uncommon.

The time between the sixth and seventh bells was a free period for all trainees though first years were not allowed to roam. They had to stay within their residence wing. Dinner was at the seventh bell. Study time was after dinner until half past the quarter night bell.

I climbed the stairs to the third and top floor and knocked on the door of the young unmarried healer who was the floor supervisor for the year.

"Come," a voice called. I stepped inside.

"The answer, Trainee Poyoy, is still no, I will..." Priestess Healer Emdiyo looked up and gaped for just a breath when she realized I wasn't whoever this young misbehaving Poyoy was.

"Great One," she stood up and made a bowing obeisance. "I beg your pardon. Please, sit down. May I get you something? Tea?"

I sat in her guest chair, "no, I'm fine. Who is Poyoy and what is she about?"

"Poyoy is a darling child who has just received word three days ago that the divine she ordered is finished and ready for pick-up. She's asked every evening since then if she might walk the four blocks to the instrument maker's shop before dinner, and the timing was just right for her evening visit to try to wear me down again."

"Well, she is at least asking, and not just sneaking out like a certain trainee Emdiyo I recall having been brought before me for discipline," I studied the ceiling.

She laughed, "yes, there is that. I'm just trying to keep them out of the trouble I got myself in."

"Well, that should be easy, given what a handful you were," I said gently. She had grown up to become a very reliable and responsible young lady, though I had my doubts early on.

She had the good grace to blush. "So, Great One, what may I do for you?"

"I believe there is a Fedso'as haup Gunndit under your supervision, who I confess I have been working hard to ignore lest I create a situation of favoritism."

"Yes," she smiled fondly, "Fed is quite a smart girl, studious, easily the best-mannered girl in her year, and not too much trouble."

"Not too much trouble," I felt my eyebrow raise on its own. "That implies some trouble."

"Well," she smiled a bit ruefully, "she was the target of some mean-spirited harassment during the first three rotations or so, because of certain family associations."

"And?" I wasn't too surprised but I wasn't happy to hear of it, either.

"Your talented granddaughter crafted an interesting little magic, which I haven't figured out yet, I confess. Whenever the room of girls who were picking on Fed had their turn in the washroom, the hot water would never be hot when it came out of the faucet, regardless of how many charms of warmth were cast. Fed would remove the curse, as she told them when they stopped the harassment of her and one other girl who was their target. It was a reasonable response but it broke the rules on magic use outside of instruction times. I regretted the necessity of disciplining her for it because the girls picking on her and several other trainees are a bunch of stuck-up little spoiled princesses who needed to be knocked down a bit."

"What did you do to discipline her?" I was curious.

"Cold water only in the washroom for her until the end of the third rotation of the planting season," Emdiyo made a wry face. "Enough of a punishment to shut up the girls of room four without creating undue hardship for Fed. Your granddaughter is a good egg. She stands up to bullies, and I like that a lot. So, Great One, you're here because of something that deals with Fed, yes?"

"Well, this is up to your discretion. Her father stopped here just now, expecting to expedite his current business, which was with the shrine, and then leave immediately to complete his current mission for the King. He's been traveling for 8 rotations outside of the kingdom without being home. He asked to see his daughter. I have talked him into having dinner and sleeping in a real bed. I would request that you release Fedso'as to have dinner with her father, and just incidentally, me. If that's not possible, I would like to arrange a few minutes so he can see her."

"Of course, you may take her for dinner," Emdiyo said. "It wouldn't matter if her surname was ratcatcher. This is for the succor of a hard-working royal attendant. Let me fetch her, by your leave." My hand automatically made the motion granting my leave and Emdiyo walked down the hallway. She left the door to her room open so I could hear everything in the hallway.

I heard a door open followed by the shrill squeal of 12-year old girls. Then Emdiyo said loudly: "Girls, stop this right now and get this mess cleaned up."

I could not resist the temptation to see what had transpired. Emdiyo was not the sort who raised her voice often. I had a sinking feeling when I saw some feathers escape the room to fall on the hallway floor. I looked in at a sight I had not seen in at least two decades: the air of the room was afloat with feathers everywhere. There had been a pillow fight and one or more pillows had broken open.

I haven't had the opportunity in a long time to use what Katsa called the death stare, where---to hear her tell it---I draw myself up to my full and considerable height, and then glare flames of divine judgment down my long and considerable nose, which some say is a weapon in its own right. I found my granddaughter, who had a look of resignation on her face, and gave her the look. I liked that she didn't try to hide or make excuses. She was standing there ready to take whatever was dished out to her as discipline with an appropriate attitude of contrition. It reminded me of a certain young son I used to have long ago before we were a broken family.

I thought then to myself that I was getting old and soft; and I heard an absent Emily say to me in the back of my memory, "no, just getting old and wiser."

Emdiyo looked up at me, "I'm not sure what I am going to do to discipline this lot, but I will allow you to take Trainee haup Gunndit for now, but not for her sake; only for the sake of the one who traveled so far to speak to her."

"Are you sure?" I asked, just so the children in this room would have a clear idea who had the final decision here.

"Oh, I will have something appropriate devised when you return her, Great One."

"Well, then," I glowered at my pillow-destroying granddaughter, "you, out that door. There is someone here who needs to speak with you."

"Yes, Great One," she made a perfect bowing obeisance and then, with perfect etiquette, waited for me to go first. Her parents had done a splendid job in training her. I did not even look at her, except when holding a door so it wouldn't close in her face.

By the time I returned to my study with my granddaughter following me in silence like any other obedient trainee, Wolkayrs was exiting from the guest suites holding a razor. He saw my questioning gaze.

"I took the razor before he got started shaving and he refused to let me shave him," Wolkayrs groused. "He is so tired his hands are shaking, now that he doesn't have to fly any further. I apologize but you'll have to continue to be offended by his unshaven face. I would advise asking the kitchen to make him something to eat that doesn't require finesse. He is in very bad shape."

"Wolkayrs, I will let you decide what my family will have for dinner. I trust your judgment but it can not wait past half til the quarter night bell. This one must return to her room at a reasonable hour, give or take a little. There are extenuating circumstances, though. Fed is pending the receipt of her own judgment, having been caught with her roommates in an act of indiscretion just now. I don't want to get her into more trouble than she's already in."

I looked back at my granddaughter with her head appropriately bowed and her eyes on the floor, which is where they should be right now.

"Alright, Fed, you are free to forget I'm high priestess. It's family time."

"Grandmom!"

"Fed!" She ran to me and I caught her and swung her in a circle, put her down, and hugged her tight. She pushed me back and grinned.

"I missed you," she said, and then she hugged me again.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around more often but I...I..."

"I know," she said, the epitome of reason. "Mom and Dad must have repeated it to me seventeen times every day for at least 500 rotations, that I can't treat you like family when I'm a trainee at the shrine. I got it. I understand. It's okay, Grandmom." To my horror, she patted my hand. I saw Wolkayrs save his own life when he succeeded in not laughing out loud. Then he wisely disappeared down the stairs to consult with the kitchen and serving staff.

"Hey, short stuff," Irhessa said from the doorway, where he was leaning.

The look on Fed's face was worth the trip to fetch her, given the absolute delight when she saw her father. She ran to him and they hugged. She then pushed him at arm's length and scrutinized him, "Dad, you're a mess. We'll have dinner but you must promise me to go right to bed and oversleep in the morning. What have you been doing to yourself? You are oozing blue fatigue fog all over the place."

"You can see the blue fatigue fog already?" he looked overjoyed. "That's my little girl," the proud father hugged his talented daughter.

"Dad," she scowled at him. "Don't change the subject. You're a mess. This is worse than the last time when the king brought you home and had to carry you in himself. You can't keep doing this. One of these days, you will really hurt yourself." She was not happy with him. This looked like one of those ongoing dialogues that families get into and seldom resolve.

I sat down in one of the armchairs, "he does this often?"

"This is the fourth time I remember him looking and acting this bad," she said with a frown. "You should talk to him about this, Grandmom. He might listen to you."

"No, child, he hasn't listened to me for twenty years," I said sadly without thinking. "He might listen to his sister, but I'm afraid I have little traction with your father."

"I'm not that bad, am I?" he asked, looking wounded.

"Oh yes, you are," Fed and I said almost in unison. She and I looked at each other and laughed.

"I'm sorry," he fell back onto the lounge. "I just wanted to get to a safe place so very badly. The coast north of Inkalim is not an easy place to be." He looked at her suddenly with a questioning look, "why is there a feather stuck in your hair, Fed?"

I stood up, walked over, and removed the offending feather, "where do you think white feathers this soft come from, son?" I handed him the feather.

"Oh," his eyes grew wide as he looked from his daughter to the feather and back. "You've been in a pillow fight." He grinned at her. "Did you win?"

"Don't know," she shrugged. "We got busted before we finished."

"There will be other times," he smiled at her with understanding. "You should treasure them since you only get to be young once." There was a bitter sadness in what he said that stabbed at me where I didn't even know I was wounded. I bit my tongue and said nothing. This was father and daughter time, and I let them be.

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