The Strangers of Kindness (14 page)

Jared jumped back to it, already too late. The glass had hardened, with the raw slashes of separation still bumpy. “Don’t worry,” Pasha told the crestfallen apprentice. “Tomorrow when we work on the next one, you can learn to drip small amounts of glass on the rim and make a beaded lip. They’ re lovely, too. Now, let’s be good hosts, shall we? And see what our delightful visitor came for.”
 

It led them back upstairs. “Jared, make a pot of tea will you? You can clean up a bit while you’ re in the pump room,” it added. Jared winced, stung again. But he was glad of the chance to wash away the sweat. He dodged out the rear door of the pump room to go put on a clean tunic, then returned to the others with the teapot and cups. Pasha had given Anna the most comfortable seat, which also just happened to be the only one long enough for two people. It lounged across from her in its usual chair. Jared placed the tea things on the low table between them, and stepped back to wait further orders. Pasha glanced from Jared to Anna, who still looked frightened.

“Jared, please pour our guest’s tea. She seems a little nervous, and I think you could put her at ease better than I.”
 

Jared knelt by the table and smiled at Anna. “Please don’t be nervous. Do you want sugar? One? Two? Try two, you’ll like it.” He chastened himself, “This is insane, she’s lucky to eat let alone know how she likes her tea.” He handed her the cup. Her fingers trembled as she took it.

“He’s a wizard,” Jared said smiling.

She gasped.

“Not really!” Pasha protested.

“Close enough,” Jared said. He gestured at his master. “He doesn’t look like that at all, really. He’s got magic to make him change shapes.”

Anna’s eyes were globes of horror.

“But he’s a good wizard,” Jared rushed on. “He likes you, and he’s good to me, Anna. He means no harm. Really.” The young man and the alien smiled at her, friendly, expectant.

“What does he look like?” she said faintly. The shadow of Kalda’s orders haunted her face.

“Quite different,” Pasha said, when Jared looked uneasy. “But you won’t see me, until you’ re quite comfortable with us. Maybe not at all, or not until it’s time for me to leave.”
 

Jared knew what she was afraid of. “You don’t have to—you know—do what they said. He’s not like that.”

This frightened her even more. “How did you know?” She glanced at Pasha, and it shook its head. Seeing its kindly expression, she relaxed slightly. “You won’t tell, will you?”

“You know we wouldn’t—”

And Pasha at the same time said, “Don’t be silly. Drink your tea, my dear. Let’s sit back and have a good long chat.” That night Pasha learned much to grieve it. How Anna, sold into slavery as a child by parents with too many mouths to feed, had labored in fields until she became a young woman. Then sold as household slave to Kriessa’s friend, trained and doing quite well until her mistress noticed her husband casting too-appreciative glances in Anna’s direction. Kalda’s and Kriessa’s wedding couldn’t have come at a more opportune time, as far as her mistress was concerned. But of her life with her new master and mistress, Anna would say nothing. Her hosts knew enough anyway.
 

And how Jared as a small boy was abducted and dragged into slavery after his remote inland village had been overrun, burned to the ground, and all the adults slain. He barely remembered his mother. For Anna’s sake, he made them laugh with some comical stories of misadventures with a particularly cunning donkey, and pranks executed at the expense of a ridiculously inept, impotently furious master.

But Pasha listened, and heard what they didn’t say. Powerless to direct their own fates, between their stories yawned dark crevasses hiding despair. It saw Jared trying to put the girl at ease, to forget for awhile her own miserable present. It saw her warm to Jared’s efforts, saw her allowing herself to laugh at him even while tears misted her dark eyelashes.

And it saw Jared losing himself in those dark eyes. Pasha sighed inwardly. It marked each nuance of posture and inflection for future use in its pose as a besotted lover. They would be useful, but it could only wish for Jared’s sake that the demonstration was not so real.

When Jared poured the last cold dregs of tea into his master’s cup, the evening’s spell was broken.

“How long do you suppose she should stay for this first visit?” Pasha wondered.

Jared thought, “Forever.” But he regretfully admitted, “For this first time, it’s probably late enough.” Sundown had passed two hours ago.

Her face an impassive mask, she let them take her to the door. Jared hovered just inside the house, out of sight of the spice store.

“You should see her outside,” he told Pasha, “Hold onto her hand,” he instructed, cursing the strange thickness in his throat. “That’s enough. Now, stand there and watch her until she’s—until she’s settled.”

A moment later he heard the distant harshness of Kalda’s sour greeting, and her quiet reply. Hatred boiled in his stomach. When there came the faint clinking of chains, he sagged against the door-jamb, eyes squeezed shut, and said, “That’s good, Pasha. Better come in now.”

He heard Pasha’s soft footsteps and the gentle closing of the door. Then a hand on his shoulder.

“Better to bed, now, Jared, don’t you think?”

He couldn’t look at his master as he went off to his room.
 

If he’ d seen sympathy in Pasha’s face, he couldn’t have borne it. As it passed Jared’s room, Pasha reminded him, “She’ll be back again, you know. Many times, if I can arrange it.” There was no answer.

While Jared lay sleepless in his own room, Pasha sat downstairs in the
nalsha
workshop, ramrod-straight on the stool. Its feet were flat on the floor, its hands symmetrically cupping the little blue
nalsha
, its bald head erect on its morphed body. It sat like a statue, staring sightlessly at the opposite wall. Jared, had he seen it, would have thought it praying. In fact it was doing quite the opposite. Watching the two young humans that evening had set distressing, conflicting emotions churning in Pasha Sand’s
frombur
. It knew that wisdom could be tapped by harmonizing with Geilsharah’s
nalsha
. But it already knew what that Wisdom would say: “Leave it alone. You’ re a chance stranger here and have no right to alter this world’s story.”

Pasha didn’t want to hear that. So it sat, not harmonizing, with only the familiar feel of the
nalsha
between its hands, and not its resonating spirit, for comfort.

Deep in the night, Jared was awakened from his long-delayed sleep by a tug on his arm.

“Whassit? Fire?” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Then his manners returned and he added, “Master Pasha?” He squinted in the light of Pasha’s lamp.

“I’ve had a wonderful idea,” Pasha whispered.

“Huh? No fire?”

“When little Anna next comes to visit, instead of sending her back to the cold planks and Kalda’s chains for the night, I’ll go!”

Jared’s sleep-laden head spun. “You! You can’t!”
 

“Yes, I can! I’ll make my morph look just like her. Kalda will never know the difference.”

Jared gaped at him. “Why?”

“Why? You have to ask? Did you think I liked sending her back over there? This is in my power to do for her, to give her at least a night’s respite whenever he sends her to us.”

 
“But—you’ d be chained. How could you get loose? And what if Kalda came out when there were two Annas, in the morning before you got back home?”

Pasha scowled. “Getting loose would be no problem. But you have a good point, with the two Annas. She couldn’t stay until dawn, that’s all. We’ d switch, here, before the shopkeeper stirs. At least she’ d have a few hours, safe and warm.”
 

“If you got caught, they’ d burn you for a sorcerer,” Jared said. And me, too, he thought.

Pasha smiled. “They’ d find that harder than they’ d expect. But we’ll just make sure we’ re not discovered.”

Jared stared at his master. Such a mixture of strange powers, generous heart, and foolishness. “You’ re a marvel,” he murmured.

“You’ll help me then? You’ll do it?”

“What do I have to do? You’ re the one with the—the magic body. I’ll do whatever you want, Pasha. But what?”
 

“Take care of Anna; feed, entertain her—or just let her sleep—whatever she wants. So she knows she’s safe, for a little while.”

“Of course. I’d—” Jared bit off the rest.
I’d die for her,
he’ d almost said.
If they’ re caught, I might, too.
“How will you know when it’s time to come back?”

“Oh, I’m well-acquainted with the stars in their nightly dance. I’ll know. You can both be assured, I don’t sleep, so I won’t slip up.”

“You know, I don’t care for me, but they’d punish Anna, too, if we’ re discovered.”

Pasha nodded, the playfulness gone from its face. “That, too, I know well. I wouldn’t put either of you in danger. Do you trust me that much, Jared?”

Jared surprised himself: “Yes. Why—yes.”

His master’s eyes glowed in the yellow light. “Excellent fellow. Then we’ll do it.”

The next time, several nights later, that Anna came timidly knocking at the door, Pasha was in tearing high spirits. Jared had turned out five fine market-grade bowls that day, and Pasha had sold several others, and enjoyed some highly entertaining chats with customers. And for the first time, it had spoken with a couple of the shy but curious children who had watched the activity around the house from cautious distances.
 

It flung open the door and swept its arms apart, robe-sleeves billowing. “Hello, little one! Come in! Come in!” She hesitated, shrinking. Then she stood up straight and walked in with her chin out. Jared saw the fright still lurking in her eyes, and thought how brave she was.

Pasha set him to assembling their meal, and fluttered around their guest, offering pillows and lap-robes, chattering about the weather.

Jared returned carrying a tray with their dinner covered with a cloth. He placed it on the low table, but didn’t remove the cover, and sat cross-legged on the floor by the table. He glanced nervously at his master. They’ d discussed and argued and rehearsed how to propose Pasha’s idea to her without scaring her, and Jared wondered if Pasha would remember the agreed-upon course in its jubilant mood.

“Well, now, Anna.”

Anna looked at Pasha Sands directly, clearly expecting some unwelcome something, but ready to face it. Jared’s heart thumped for her.

“Anna,” Pasha said again.

“Yes, Master Pasha?”

“This will be a most interesting night for you,” Pasha said. It was nervous, too, Jared realized when their script was thus immediately abandoned. He glanced at Anna—this opening was obviously not setting her at ease.

“Pasha—” he said softly, reminding it.

“Jared and I have something to propose to you,” Pasha rushed on, and Jared groaned inside. “It may seem completely outlandish to you, but please hear us out.”

Worse and worse.
Jared moaned. But Anna’s face was set. “Jared my assistant, has told you that I do not really resemble you humans. Would you—um—like to see my real body?” Anna turned slightly green.

“Master!” Jared said, sharper than he’ d meant to. “You’ re scaring her!”

Pasha looked astounded. “Me? Of course not, don’t be foolish. How could I . . . My dear, see here, this is what we think: I am capable of making myself look just like you, you see? And—”

She swayed on the couch, and Jared leaped up next to her to prop her up with a tentative hand on her arm. She didn’t welcome the touch, but she didn’t actually pull away, either. Her breath hissed faintly through pinched nostrils.

“Pasha, please, this is too much for her to take in.”

“Oh, well, all right,” Pasha pouted. “You tell her, then.” It flounced against the back of its chair. But the pout didn’t last long. Pasha was too eager to see the girl’s response to its idea.

Jared said in a bored singsong, hoping if he made it sound mundane and commonplace to himself, it wouldn’t frighten her so much. “Master Pasha can change his body to look like whatever he wants it to. Right now, since he used mine as a model, his body looks just like mine, under his robes.” He blushed, and hurried on: “What he’s thinking is, you could stay here for a few hours, and sleep in a real bed—alone, alone—warm and safe, and he wants to go over and take your place on the store-front. Before dawn we’ d get you back over there, and your master would never be the wiser.”

She listened to all this with her lips parted and her black eyes wide. As he finished, one corner of her mouth lifted. “Are you both madmen?” She stared at Pasha. “Master Pasha, if that’s so, it makes no difference to me, I do what I’m told; you may do as you like with me. But this—this child’s bedtime tale—it’s foolish past laughing. Why take up your time with this? I don’t understand. I don’t mean to spoil your game . . .”

Jared sighed. “It isn’t a game. It’s all true.” Glancing at Pasha he ventured further: “I don’t know what my master is, but he’s not a man, and he’s not cruel. If he’s a demon, he’s the kindest demon I’ve ever heard of. He only wants to help you, not hurt you.” He stopped, seeing she still didn’t believe any of it. He couldn’t think of anything more to say to reassure her.