Free Alexandria by John Kaden Page A

about any of them, before or since. She used to curl up in the corner right over there,” she nods to a dusty corner with sacks of grain stacked waist high, “and she used to just lay there and sob. If I went to try and touch her, she’d scoot back like I was aiming to bite her or something. Of course I meant her no such harm, but she didn’t know that. She was missing her old village, her old life, and I suppose that’s some of what’s bothering you. You’re stuck there up here,” she points delicately to Lia’s head, “and you’re having a hard time letting go. It took young Elise a very long time to let go, but in her own time she did. Sooner or later the crying will stop, and you’ll choose happiness. It’s such a simple choice, when you think about it.”
    She gives Lia a tender kiss on the forehead then goes back to the island to roll out flatbread with a heavy pin. Her words wash over Lia and she can only faintly perceive the fractures in her psyche they are causing. She looks up at Calyn.
    “But I miss my parents. I’ll never see them again. Because of you.”
    “Not because of me, dear. I’m sure they meant well, and I’m sure they treated you nice, but that’s dangerous magic they played with, Lia. I’ve seen the hills alive with Fire. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. It’s a tragedy that you lost your parents, but it would be a far worse tragedy if their foolishness got you and all your friends burned to a crisp by calling on the dark spirits. We don’t like this—don’t think that. Don’t think we take pleasure in this. It hurts us even more than them, but it’s the right thing and it’s got to be done.”
    “But they killed them—”
    “Lia, please—”
    “They waited until they were asleep and… and they killed them and burned them and—”
    “Lia! Stop it. I don’t need to know the workings of it. I’m sorry for what happened to you but it was for the best.”
    Lia looks up with eyes full of painful need and Calyn turns and busies herself at the counter, working a ball of dough with rough, flustered fingers. Lia watches her shyly, wondering how she’s gone so cold all of a sudden. She climbs back on her little step stool and picks up a skinny, green-plumed carrot from the tepid bath and stares at it absently. “Where is Elise now?”
    “She works down in the sewing shop. One of the head stitchers, and her work is good. She has her own family, four beautiful children. Would you like to meet her sometime?”
    Lia nods yes .
    “I’ll ask her when I see her next. I’ll bet she’d love to meet you. You’re such a sweet girl, Lia, it breaks my heart to see you sad like this.” She forages on the countertop and fetches out another sweet roll. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you this, I don’t want them getting jealous.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Oh, you’re adorable. You’re welcome, Lia. Now, finish rinsing these off so the girls can get chopping.”
    Lia slogs her way through the pile of carrots and potatoes, working her small fingers over the surface and rubbing away the dirt. She works in a daze, robotically, and when the pile is spent she reaches up and turns the stopcock on the waterspout to give everything one last rinse. She collects them, cleaned and shining, in little baskets and carries them back to the prep room where more girls huddle over the center table, dicing and cutting. Haylen is there, clumsily chopping potato slices, her bony fingers growing numb.
    “Here’s more.”
    “Thanks,” says Haylen, and pushes a small basket toward Lia. “These are done.”
    She takes the basket to the kitchen and Calyn hefts the heavy iron lid off the kettle.
    “Dump them on in.”
    Lia lifts the basket and tilts it over the edge, watching all the diced potatoes tumble into the boiling broth. Maybe if I just be good , she thinks, this will all end . She wonders, foolishly, if perhaps she did something wrong to deserve this. She goes back to the trough, where baskets of