Chapter 242 — Ayari Has News

Chapter 243 — Ayari Has News

Ayari arrived with a basket of dark fruit on her arm and began talking before Nia had finished inviting her inside.

“Garrick went to the market for a replacement knife yesterday. He came home with that, two lengths of cord, more wooden fastenings than he needed, and almost everything a fruit seller had left.”

She handed Nia the basket.

“He bought all this?”

“I mentioned you liked them. After that, he kept asking the seller how many were left.”

The fruit carried a faint dusty bloom, and several pieces were soft around their stems. Nia set the basket on the table and selected a handful to wash.

“Tell him thank you. Although he doesn't need to buy half the market whenever I enjoy something.”

“I told him something similar. He said the seller was pleased.”

Ayari sat down, making herself comfortable while Nia brought back the washed fruit in a small bowl.

“Bram wasn't quite as pleased when Garrick started testing his new knife on the basket fastenings. There were wood shavings everywhere. He told Garrick to clean them up before someone stepped on a sharp piece.”

“Did Garrick finish?”

“He moved to the other side of the room and kept carving.”

Nia laughed. She could picture Bram finding another pile of shavings just when he thought the floor was clean.

She offered Ayari the bowl and tried one of the fruits herself. Its sweetness gave way to a pleasant tartness around the seed.

“These are good.”

“Garrick will be pleased.”

Ayari ate one too, then brushed her fingertips together and leaned forward.

“Now, I came to see you, but I also have a story about Mira and Tessa. Luma told me yesterday, and I still haven't decided whether Mira was actually offended or simply wanted everyone to know she'd been overlooked.”

Nia settled opposite her.

“Go on.”

Tessa had received several lengths of woven cloth from relatives traveling along the southern route. The colors were unusual enough to attract visitors, although Tessa hadn't decided what to make with them.

Pella had already seen the cloth. Luma had seen it too.

Mira, who heard about the visit afterward, went to Tessa's cave to ask why she hadn't been invited.

“She asked whether she'd done something to upset Tessa,” Ayari said. “Tessa was surprised. She hadn't finished inviting people.”

“That must have been awkward.”

“Luma said Tessa kept trying to show Mira the cloth, but Mira was talking about being forgotten. Eventually Tessa told her she could come whenever she liked. Mira answered that she might be busy.”

Nia sat back in her chair.

“I wouldn't know what to say to that. If she wants to see it, she's welcome. If she's busy, she can come another day.”

“That's how you would handle it. Mira likes an invitation before she has to ask.”

“She could tell Tessa that.”

“She could, but I don't think she wanted to admit she'd been waiting for one.”

Nia considered the explanation. She'd seen enough of Mira to know that the female placed importance on how others approached her, though Nia wasn't certain how much of the present argument came from their previous friendship.

“Did Tessa deliberately leave anyone out?”

“Not according to Luma. Tessa's been getting visitors every day, and she's growing tired of having everyone tell her how she should use the cloth.”

Ayari reached for another fruit.

“Pella thinks the blue-green piece would make a beautiful long wrap. Luma likes the green piece. I haven't seen either one, but I'd like to.”

“Then perhaps leave Tessa alone until she's ready to show it again.”

“I intend to. Although if she comes to the pond gathering, I may ask whether she's decided what to make.”

“She's going to hear about that cloth everywhere she goes.”

“Probably.”

Ayari sounded sympathetic, but not enough to abandon her curiosity.

Apparently Luma had overheard the argument while carrying water past Tessa's cave. She stopped to water the pots outside and stayed until she'd emptied her vessel.

“She was very thorough,” Ayari said.

Nia laughed at the image of Luma lingering among the pots while voices carried through the entrance.

“Now I understand how she heard so much.”

“She said the pots needed water.”

“I hope they did.”

Ayari looked thoroughly untroubled by the possibility that Luma had found an excuse to listen.

The conversation wandered to Keva's younger sister, who had broken a tooth from her comb and decided to buy a new one at the market. Her brother had already begun carving a replacement and was offended that she intended to choose one herself.

“He won't let anyone see it until he's finished,” Ayari explained. “Keva told him he couldn't expect his sister to want something she'd never seen.”

Nia agreed with Keva, although Ayari thought the brother probably wanted to surprise his sister rather than control her choice.

“Perhaps she'll like it once he finishes,” Ayari said.

“Then he can show it to her. She might end up with two good combs.”

“Keva says they both inherited their mother's stubbornness.”

“I'd like to meet their mother.”

“She visits when the lower roads are dry enough. Keva says her brothers become much better behaved for the first day.”

“And afterward?”

Ayari laughed.

“Apparently they forget.”

They had been sitting for a while when Ayari rose to stretch her legs.

“Let's go outside. It's too pleasant to spend the whole afternoon in here.”

Nia agreed. She took two cups and a small water vessel while Ayari went ahead to the sheltered stone beside the entrance.

The lower passage was busy without being crowded. A few people carried baskets toward the market, and someone across the path was sweeping dried leaves away from a household entrance.

Nia sat where the wall shaded her shoulders. Ayari chose a place nearby with a clear view of the path.

Two young males approached carrying a wide basket between them. The one walking behind kept turning his head toward a group of females farther along the passage.

The basket tilted.

“Watch where you're going,” his companion complained.

“I am.”

“Then stop staring at them.”

The young male straightened the basket and hurried to catch up.

Ayari smiled as they passed.

“Those two have been arguing since yesterday.”

“About the basket?”

“About which of them a female smiled at near the market. Apparently neither is willing to believe she might have been greeting someone else.”

Nia watched the pair disappear around the bend.

“I hope they put that basket down before they start again.”

“They'll find something else to argue about.”

A few moments later, the pair returned empty-handed. One glanced toward the females again, and the other caught his sleeve before he could stop walking.

Ayari raised a hand in greeting. The taller male responded. His companion hurriedly straightened his hair.

Nia hid her smile behind her hand until they were past.

Ayari let them go before speaking again.

“Sera finally chose a day for the pond gathering. Three days from now, after the midday meal.”

Nia turned toward her.

“Good! I'll come.”

“Mari walked down there with Sera yesterday. They found enough dry places for everyone who wants to sit near the lower bank.”

“Did Mari volunteer to carry the stools?”

“Absolutely not. She said anyone who wants a particular stool should bring it themselves.”

“Fair enough.”

Ayari looked toward the slope leading down to the pond.

“Luma's thinking of bringing something sweet. Pella heard about it and started asking what kind.”

Nia recognized the beginnings of a competition.

“I don't mind tasting two sweets. I refuse to decide whose is better.”

“You may not get a choice if they ask.”

“Then I'll tell them I liked both, provided I actually do.”

Ayari laughed.

“I knew you wouldn't pretend to like something.”

“I wouldn't want them to do that to me either. How am I supposed to improve a recipe if everyone insists it's good?”

“Not everyone wants to improve it. Sometimes they just want someone to enjoy what they made.”

“Then I'll eat it and enjoy it. Unless it tastes terrible.”

Ayari laughed harder at that.

“Please don't say that before we see what they bring.”

“I haven't said anything about their cooking.”

“Not yet.”

They talked briefly about who might attend. Ayari intended to invite Keva, though she wasn't certain whether Keva could leave her household work that afternoon. Nia said she'd enjoy seeing her there.

A group of children interrupted them as they ran past with a rolling hoop.

The youngest lost his grip when it struck a stone. An older girl caught it before it reached a woman carrying a basket and handed it back to him.

“Carry it until we reach the flat path,” she instructed.

The boy complained, but he tucked the hoop under his arm.

Ayari watched them go.

“Pella's youngest has been following his brothers everywhere lately. They took him all the way to the water station yesterday and had to carry him back.”

“He wanted to keep up?”

“Of course. Pella was more annoyed with the older boys than with him. They'd promised to bring him home before he became tired.”

Nia watched the smallest boy hurry after the older children.

“He probably thought he could go as far as they could.”

“That's what Pella said. She wants one afternoon when nobody is hanging on her clothing, although I expect she'll spend plenty of it telling us about them.”

Nia wouldn't mind. She liked hearing about the children, especially the ordinary mischief their parents had to manage.

Ayari adjusted her position on the stone.

“I hope the bank is more comfortable than this.”

Aurel appeared along the passage carrying a bundle of braided strips under one arm and a rolled sitting mat beneath the other.

He stopped when he spotted them.

“I thought you might be here.”

Ayari lifted a hand.

“Did Bram finish with the grain?”

“He's taking the last load. I'm going to the north storage frame after this.”

Aurel laid the mat beside Ayari.

“You said the stone hurt your hips last time.”

“Oh, thank you.”

She moved aside while he spread it. Once he'd finished, she settled onto the woven surface and stretched her legs with a pleased sigh.

“That's much better.”

Aurel retrieved the repair strips.

“Bram's started supper,” he told her. “He's trying those broad greens Sareth brought home.”

“Did he leave any whole?”

“He was asking Garrick to cut them smaller when I passed.”

Ayari made a face.

“I wanted some for wrapping.”

“Tell him when you get home. He's still preparing everything.”

She caught Aurel's hand before he left.

“Have you eaten?”

“I brought food with me.”

“Good. I won't have to come looking for you.”

Aurel smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

He continued toward the storage entrance, where another male was waiting beside a damaged carrying frame.

Ayari smoothed the edge of her mat and made herself comfortable.

Nia glanced at the thick weave.

“That does look better than the stone.”

“Try it.”

Nia moved beside her. The mat softened the pressure beneath her hips, and she could understand why Ayari preferred it for long visits.

“I might ask Kael where we can get one.”

“Ask Aurel where he found this one. I'm not sure whether he traded for it or made it himself.”

Nia returned to her own place.

Ayari watched Aurel and the other male examine the carrying frame. They lifted it onto its side, and Aurel began inspecting the split binding.

“He can spend a long time on repairs,” she said. “As long as he remembers to eat, I don't mind.”

“Shen loses track of time at the care station sometimes. If he's working on something difficult, I have to remind him to stop.”

“Bram gets like that too. He talks while he works, though, so it's easy to keep him company.”

Ayari pulled the mat's edge beneath her feet.

“Last time I sat with him, I fell asleep before he finished. He stayed where he was until I woke, even though his leg had gone stiff.”

Nia turned toward her.

“He could have moved you.”

“I told him that the next morning. He said I looked comfortable.”

Ayari seemed amused by Bram's decision, although she admitted she'd apologized for leaving him in an awkward position.

“He told me to stop apologizing and sit with him again that evening.”

Nia smiled.

“I suppose you did.”

“Of course. He was making the little basket fastenings, and I wanted to see whether they'd work.”

Ayari looked down at her hands.

“He kept handing me the finished pieces to sort, and eventually I got tired of counting them. Garrick said I'd put two different sizes together.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. Bram wasn't pleased. I told him he shouldn't give me work that requires counting after supper.”

Nia laughed.

From the other side of the passage, someone called for help moving a bundle of leafy stems. Two children followed their mother, each insisting that he should carry the empty basket.

Ayari greeted the woman as she passed.

“I've been hearing them argue since the gathering path,” the woman complained. “They each carried it for half the walk, and that still wasn't enough.”

One of the boys tugged at her clothing, eager to leave.

The woman excused herself and continued down the path, ordering both children to walk beside her.

Ayari watched them go.

“She'll be ready for supper by the time she gets home.”

Nia nodded.

“Those two have enough energy for another whole afternoon.”

They learned what had happened to the missing market tray when a female stopped near the cave entrance with a bundle tucked against her hip.

“She put it beneath the drying leaves herself,” the woman told Ayari. “Then accused her sister of moving it.”

Nia recognized the story.

“Kael and I passed them yesterday while they were searching. I thought they might take every pot apart.”

“They nearly did. Her sister has been reminding her about it all morning.”

Ayari laughed, and the woman continued toward the market after adjusting her bundle.

Nia watched her disappear around the bend.

“I'm glad they found it. They looked ready to argue for the rest of the day.”

“They probably did, even after they found it.”

Ayari took a drink of water, then turned back toward Nia.

“Someone saw you and Kael on that terrace, by the way. She said you looked happy together.”

“We were.”

“It's been a while since I've seen Kael take a morning away from his work.”

“He arranged it the day before. Selvan and Tarek had the work that needed doing, and he wanted us to spend the morning together.”

Ayari smiled.

“That was thoughtful.”

“He showed me the terrace after breakfast. I didn't know he'd liked going there himself.”

“I've sat there a few times. The stone stays warm even after the sunlight moves away.”

Nia remembered sitting against Kael, watching the activity below while he told her why he loved Hearthfang.

She liked knowing a place that had belonged to his ordinary life before he shared it with her.

“Garrick used to take me to the southern lookout to watch the evening birds,” Ayari continued. “He was very proud of the spot he'd chosen. Then Sareth told us there was another place nearby where the birds came much closer.”

“Did Garrick take you there?”

“Eventually. He complained that Sareth had spoiled his surprise, but I liked both places.”

Ayari's smile widened.

“Aurel came the second time. He spent most of the evening telling us which birds were nesting and which were only passing through.”

Nia laughed.

“Did Garrick ever get to show you the sunset?”

“He did. We brought food and stayed until the light faded. It was a lovely evening.”

“We should visit sometime.”

“I'd like that. The path is farther out than the terrace, so we'll want a good day.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to activity along the lower path.

Above them, a bird crossed the opening between two slopes and disappeared behind the caves.

Later in the afternoon, Ayari mentioned that one of Sera's cousins was expecting a visit from her mother.

The household had been saving a particular bundle of dried fish for her arrival, but one of the cousin's husbands had given it to his older brother without realizing it had been set aside.

“He went to the market this morning to find more,” Ayari said. “Sera hadn't heard whether he succeeded.”

“I hope he did. I'd be upset if someone gave away an ingredient I'd been saving.”

“Her mother particularly likes that fish. She'd promised to serve it when they arrived.”

Before Nia could ask about the visitors, a female stopped along the path.

“Have either of you seen Keva? I need to return something before supper.”

Ayari directed her toward the upper household passage, explaining that Keva's sister was visiting that day.

The woman thanked them and hurried off.

“I wonder whether Keva's brother finished that comb,” Ayari said.

“You'll find out when you visit her.”

“I will. And I'll ask about the pond gathering.”

Nia glanced toward the lengthening shadows.

“You'll have plenty to tell Sera afterward.”

“I'm sure I will.”

Ayari began gathering her things a little later. She rolled the mat and secured it with the attached binding while Nia carried the water vessel and two cups inside.

The fruit basket remained on the table where Nia had placed it when Ayari arrived.

When Nia returned, Ayari was standing near the entrance with the mat tucked beneath her arm.

“I should go. Bram's probably far enough along with supper that I can still persuade him to leave some of the greens whole.”

“If he's already cut them, tell him to save the next batch.”

“I will. He likes trying different things, but he doesn't always believe me when I tell him how I want mine.”

Nia laughed.

“Enjoy supper.”

“You too.”

Ayari stepped onto the path, then glanced back.

“Three days from now, after midday.”

“I remember. I'll see you at the pond.”

Ayari waved and continued toward the upper household passages.

She had almost reached the bend when a woman standing outside a neighboring cave called to her.

“Ayari! Have you heard about the cloth trader at the eastern market?”

Ayari stopped.

“No. What happened?”

“He received the wrong bundles. His brother sent the dyed lengths west and kept the plain ones.”

“Oh, he's going to be annoyed.”

The woman came forward, describing the confusion at the stall. Ayari shifted the mat beneath her arm and walked beside her, asking who had discovered the mistake and whether the seller had already sent word to his brother.

Nia watched the two women turn into the neighboring passage, still absorbed in their conversation.