The Spirit Gate Read Online Free PDF Page A

to leave. But if you’re
of a mind to take this little bit of money I’ve earned—”
    “Ah!
Now it’s only ‘a little bit of money’. A moment ago it was this great treasure!”
    “It’s a lot of money to
me, brother-in-law, but in Ursel Trava’s
eyes it’s less
than a month’s
rent. If you want it, you’re
welcome to it, but know that if you take it, it’ll be that much longer I’ll be forced to stay under your thatched roof.”
    Blaz’s
mouth screwed itself into an wizened blotch. “Fine. Keep your damned witch money, if it’ll get you out of here
sooner. I want you out before the month’s
up, Kassia Telek. Stay one day longer and I will have some of your so-called
earnings.” Abandoning his supper, the blacksmith stomped around the table and out
of his house into the night.
    In their tiny room later that night, Kassia counted her day’s earnings while Beyla
slept. She began the task on a flood of fierce elation, sifting the coins—silver, copper, and
semi-precious stone—through
her fingers. She, Kassia Telek, had earned this money, money that would pay her
way out of Blaz Kovar’s
house. Her elation soon faded; her entire collection of coins came to only
about a quarter of the twenty rega she needed for rent.
    She pondered her situation for a moment, idly staring at the
gleaming bits of metal and stone, then shook herself. Stupid Kassia! Of course
you can’t earn an
entire month’s
rent in the space of one day—who
could? Tomorrow, you will go back and earn more, and more the day after that. A
week’s work for
Ursel Trava’s
rent is not so much, and then . . . And then, she realized, she
must work for food, for clothing, for household necessities. She must have the
time to prepare food, gather wood, care for Beyla and educate him.
    She rubbed her cheek, feeling suddenly exhausted, and
wishing, not for the first time, that she had been talented enough to learn her
husband’s craft.
But clay would not obey her clumsy fingers. That had been amusing in the days
when Shurik was alive to tease her about her tortured-looking pots and wilted
bowls; now it added itself to her burden of bitter grief.
    Suddenly angry, Kassia gathered up the motley collection of
coins and dumped them into a much-mended pot atop the little hutch that held
her clothing and Beyla’s. Tomorrow ,
she told herself. Tomorrow, I will raise my prices and bring back more .
    As she curled herself upon her straw-stuffed mattress, she
thought of Mistress Devora. “You
should cast your own fortune,” the baker had said, and perhaps she was right. But to Kassia Telek, an
unknown and uncertain future was better than a frightening one clearly seen.
She had long had the sense that the village of Dalibor would not contain her,
but what life could she have elsewhere?
    She fell asleep to dream of places both strange and
terrifying, where everything moved with the swiftness of the Pavla Yeva in
flood.
    oOo
    The next morning Kassia fed Beyla and performed her chores
in a rush, anxious to be off to the marketplace again. When she came close to
breaking yet another serving pot, her sister rescued it with able hands and
shooed her away from the house.
    “To
market with you!” she said, laughing. “Here’s some money and a
little list of the things I need. If Blaz asks, I’ll tell him you’re out doing the day’s shopping.”
    Relieved, Kassia obeyed, taking Beyla with her.
    “Mama,
what is it you do in the marketplace?” he asked as they walked, hand-in-hand, through the village.
    “I
divine,” she said. “I
tell people’s
fortunes.”
    He squinted up at her. “Can you teach me to do this also, so I can earn
money for our rent?”
    She shook her head. “You’re a child, Beyla. You
oughtn’t have to
worry just yet about earning our rent.”
    “But
mama, Fedor is learning his father’s
trade. He helps in the forge almost every day.” He glanced away across the
road in the direction of Blaz Kovar’s
smithy. “He
hardly