Maybe time passed at a different rate in the grove of the Huntress, for I am sure hours went by as we prepared for the ritual that was needed to plant a quirrelit seed and assure its swift and healthy growth. Yet as I stood now in my homewagon looking out the back window, the sky was just beginning to lighten up with the coming of the dawn. The Huntress had shown me a place to bathe and had given me the soft green gown I was even now wearing. While I had been cleaning up, she had taken my firestar gem and mounted it in a ring made of wood from the quirrelit tree. Just when I returned to the main room from my bath, with some alarm, I saw her toss the ring, mounted now with the black stone, into the fire. When I would have rushed to rescue it, the Huntress had calmly informed me I need not worry, the fire would not harm either the wood or the firestar gem. The fire would join them together and make both stronger. It would seem she knew what she was talking about, for a short while later, using tongs, she drew the ring out and dropped it into a bucket of cold water to temper it.
The sound of the hot ring hitting the cold water caused a pang in my heart. So often I had heard that very sound when Da would put the hot metal he had been working on in cold water and that familiar hiss would sound. All of a sudden, I felt an overwhelming pull calling me home, but I was not sure at this moment where home really was. Was it the cottage near Mumblesey, or the homewagon, or somewhere different all together? Where was my heart home? I was pulled out of my thoughts when the Huntress pulled the ring out of the cold water, and with what seemed to me some reverence, polished the ring and gem until they shone. She handed it to me with ceremony. I was surprised to note that the wood no longer looked like wood, nor did it look like metal, but rather something in between. The same patterns I had noted in the carvings in the room we were standing in appeared on the ring. It was a beautiful piece, but subtle. At first glance the ring appeared to be a rather plain band with a dark stone, but if you looked closely, it was an object of rare beauty.
“Come, we must hurry now before the light of dawn breaks,” she had said and had rushed me out the door.
What happened next was both strange and a memory I think I will never lose, but also one that I do not think I will ever share with anyone. I have the impression that an outsider would not have been allowed to witness the planting of a quirrelit seed, but sometimes necessity creates strange partnerships. A partnership between a huntress and a rover I do not imagine has been seen before and may not be seen again in this land. I still do not know what being Neebing blessed means, but in this case, it may have saved my life. After the seed had been properly planted, the Huntress mentioned that had I not been Neebing blessed, I would have perished during the planting. I am glad she had not mentioned that prior to hustling me out the door. When the planting was done, the Huntress invited me back into her home and again thanked me for the gift of the quirrelit seed.
“You have given a gift this night greater than I can explain, and my clan and I are forever in your debt,” she had told me. “In return, I would give you several gifts.” When I had tried to protest, she had quieted me with a look and preceded to hand me a satchel. “Open this later and feel free to use any of what is contained within. More immediately you need to know the properties of the ring you now wear on your finger. As you know, when the firestar gem is near an object that is more than what it seems by its outward appearance, it grows warm.”
No, I had not known that. I felt rather stupid at that moment, because I had not put together the incidents of feeling warmth with coming into possession of something at the same moment, like the two rings I wore around my neck or the object I had passed off to Beezle.
“When the firestar gem is near another firestar gem,” the Huntress had continued, “and it is in the possession of someone with good intent, it will arc, of like to like. It will be a way for you to know friend from foe should you be wandering in other woods. Also, those of my clan, should they be near you, will know you are a friend of my clan and the Neebings just by the carvings on the ring. That may be helpful to you at some point.”
The Huntress had then told me to follow her while it was still dark, and upon leaving her home, she led me down paths I would never have seen even in the daylight. Sooner than I would have thought possible, we were back at the edge of the woods right behind my campsite.
Clasping my hand with both of hers, the Huntress said, “Be safe, clan friend. Should you ever need and we are near, concentrate on the firestar gem and call. We will come.”
With that said, the Huntress had squeezed my hand, turned, and was soon lost in the shadows of the woods. I looked down and saw Carz touch noses with each one of the Huntress’ four hunting cats, and then they too slipped quietly back into the woods and were gone. Carz then turned and nudged me forward, and we moved quietly from the cover of the woods the short distance to the homewagon and slipped inside. It had been a long night; perhaps longer than I knew, and since I had been almost asleep on my feet, I had lain down to catch a nap before dawn.
Now I needed to change, get something to eat, and take care of the routine chores of the morning. It would not do for me to break routine or change routine and call attention to myself. I did not know if any of the searchers from the previous night were still within the campground, still looking for the silk merchant and his niece. Once outside the homewagon, I looked to see if Master Clarisse or Evan were up and saw no activity at their site. Before a worry could form, I saw Evan coming from the direction of the pasture where our horses were turned out to graze.
Evan called softly, “I took care of your horses too, so it is your turn to make breakfast, and I’m starving.”
After the events of the last ten to twelve hours, this small act of normalcy on Evan’s part was so profound I almost wept. I found out later that Master Rollag had sworn Evan to secrecy, not to tell anyone about the events of the night before. He had taken it literally, so he did not tell me what had happened in town. Had he been forthcoming upon greeting me, I would have felt immensely better sooner.
“You alright, Nissa?” Evan questioned, with a look of great concern on his face.
I was not sure if his concern was for me or for the possibility that if something was really wrong I might not be able to make breakfast.
“I’m fine. Just a piece of dirt flew in my eye,” I fibbed. “Will Master Clarisse be joining us, or is she going to sleep the day away?”
“Oh, um, she stayed in town for breakfast at Master Bircholm’s house. She and Master Rollag and others were having a meeting concerning guild business. Since she had anticipated it taking awhile, she decided she would send me on ahead to attend to the chores and open the booth. Master Bircholm is known for his cook and so any meeting there is always preceded by a large elaborate meal. Apprentices were not invited, so I have to fend for myself. I sure miss Mistress Jalcones. She always had an extra plate to serve to a growing lad like me,” Evan said, in somewhat aggrieved tones, all the while looking at me with a look that was half accusation and half pleading.
“I think you have missed your calling. Instead of being apprenticed to a glassworks master, perhaps you should have been apprenticed to the Players Guild or become a used horse trader,” I responded back. Just then Carz walked up to me, dropped a rather large rabbit at my feet, and gave me the same look that Evan had just given me. “Alright, alright, I will cook breakfast,” I said laughing, and was amazed I could do so after the night that had just been.
Sharing a laugh with Evan did more for grounding me in the present than anything else had done. I assigned Evan the task of skinning and cleaning the rabbit while I got a small fire going and set the kettle water to boiling. The campsites around me began to stir, and as the new day began, the events of the previous night slipped to the edge of my mind; not forgotten but no longer blazing with such clarity. While the events of the night before had faded just a bit, my worries had not. How was I going to find out if Da and Beezle were safe?
It was difficult to pretend that everything was as usual while eating breakfast with Evan, and he was unusually quiet. We cleaned up and headed off to the fair. I knew I needed to go to my booth and pretend this was just an ordinary day, but what I really wanted to do was go into town and begin a search for Da. While I knew that was my heart talking and not my head, it was still hard to sit down at my work bench, begin a project, and await the first customers.
Master Clarisse arrived shortly and thanked Evan for opening her booth. “Sorry I am later than I thought I would be,” Master Clarisse said to Evan. An almost imperceptible look of relief flashed across her face when she saw Nissa. “After the meeting, I helped Master Rollag load several large windows onto a wagon. He is sending Journeyman Mikkel on to Snoddleton to set up a display in the Hall of Masters, and these pieces required four folks to lift and move. It took Master Rollag, Journeyman Mikkel, his driver Jonzee, and I to safely get them into the wagon. That new driver Jonzee Smed is quite nice and really knows his way around horses.” Master Clarisse then leaned over our adjoining counters and mouthed, “Play along.”
I would have at that moment danced a jig if she had asked, so relieved was I that Da was alive and well. Maybe even a jig on the countertop. Well perhaps not. Once the momentary euphoria of knowing Da was safe passed, I began to worry about three things. What was I playing along with, why, and how would I get word to Da that I was safe? Without asking for directions, and then trying to explain why I wanted to see a driver I had just met the day before, I could not just jump up, rush into town, and try to find Master Bircholm’s house, hoping that Da and the journeyman had not left yet. Naturally, I could show concern for the man I had gone to the Inn of the Three Hares with and then had gotten separated from. I was grateful to Master Clarisse for letting me know that he was alright, but she did not know that the driver was my Da, and so would not understand my deep concern for him.
“Evan, Master Rollag wanted you to do him a favor. Seems he has a niece in Snoddleton and wanted to send a gift on ahead to get there by her birth date. He is particularly taken with the boxes Nissa made combined with the tops I made. Really wanted one in rosewood. Do you have one of those in stock Nissa?” Master Clarisse asked.
“Let me look,” I answered, going to my cart and looking through the boxes. “I have two.” Walking back to our adjoining counters, I handed them both to Master Clarisse. “Which one do you like best?”
“This one, I think,” she said, indicating the box with the glass top in blues and greens. “Evan, take this to Master Rollag, as quickly as you can, for he is anxious to get Journeyman Mikkel on the road before he strolls off following a mourning dove or hears bells in the distance and rambles off to find them. As an added incentive, he said to tell you that Master Bircholm’s cook was about to pull sweet buns out of the oven. Whoa, not so fast young man,” Master Clarisse admonished, as Evan tried to snatch the box from her hand. “Let me wrap this in a bit of fabric, and you be careful as you race towards those sweet buns. One more thing.” The look on Evan’s face was a cross between resignation and impatience. “Tell Master Rollag both Nissa and I picked this box out together, so it should be just right for his niece.”
I know I was tired, for I had not had very much sleep the night before, but my brain must have been dozing while my body pretended it was awake and alert. It took me way longer than it should have to realize that getting a present to Master Rollag for his niece’s birth date as quickly as possible was not what was important. Getting a message back to Master Rollag, and maybe one driver named Jonzee Smed, that I was at my booth was the real issue. It then finally penetrated my sluggish brain that when Master Clarisse suggested that I “play along” it was because there might be something to be concerned about connected to last night’s adventure, or someone might be very interested in our conversation.
I surreptitiously glanced around to see if I could spot anything or anyone who might be taking more than a passing interest in our booths or conversation. That is when it occurred to me that music from our pipe player, who had been like a fixture near us since the fair opened, was missing. Beezle, oh my, I had forgotten about Beezle. He had been the pipe player, and none of us had recognized him, and now he was not in his chosen spot. Had something happened to him?
It did not help that the morning dragged on so slowly. Every few minutes I would glance up from what I was working on to see if the pipe player was setting up his stool and hat, but then I cautioned myself to stop that. It was going to become noticeable that I was looking way too often at his spot should anyone be watching me. It was also not helping the project I was working on, so I gave it up and reached for the satchel the Huntress had given me as a gift. I did not know what to expect, so I opened it cautiously and found a book bound between two wooden covers. I had only a glimpse of the top cover before I was interrupted by a woman inquiring about one of the puzzle boxes. Then, because I wanted to get back to the contents of the satchel, the crowds picked up, and I was kept busy until the lunchtime lull. By then, Evan had returned and reported that the sweet buns had been delicious, and he and Jonzee had polished off a whole tray of them by themselves.
Evan seemed quite taken with Jonzee, and I of course could understand why he might like my Da. For a moment I was quite jealous of Evan and the time he had just spent with him. Da always did have a sweet tooth, and I remembered how the heavy sweet bread that Nana made on special occasions disappeared quite fast in our house. I had had to be quick if I thought I might get even a second piece out of the first loaf Nana pulled out of the oven. I was also grateful to Evan for being the messenger who let my Da know that I was fine and was not still behind that wall of greenery. I did wonder how Da had gotten back into town, and how anyone had convinced Da not to come to the fair or back to the campground this morning to find me, but he seemed to have made it back to Master Bircholm’s safely and was now leaving town. I wanted to stand up and scream, for once again, we had been so close and yet had so little time to talk. I still had so many unanswered questions.
The traffic began to slow as the noon hour approached and dwindled to almost nothing. Master Clarisse offered to go find some meat pies and bring them back. I once again had time to look in the satchel and was just about to remove the book when a shadow crossed my vision. I looked up to see Beezle standing in front of me.