And Crystal Hollow unfolds before us.
I can see vestiges of what beauty it must have been before; sides of buildings that are still picturesque, a motley of stones that are now a kind of path, all nestled in the forested landscape.
But the village looks like it exploded.
I am looking at a village in pieces, reassembled imperfectly, while destruction still fills the streets.
Tasa weaves through walls fallen at diagonals covering the paths, sliding over and ducking through and casually picking up chunks—bits of siding and door knobs and iron works—to put into her pack.
She doesn’t even notice when I take some pieces out of her hands to drop them into my pack instead.
Tasa takes her time at this, and I think she is simply distracted by the copious interesting detritus around until we come far enough that we begin to hear voices.
Tasa doesn’t slow further.
But I canseethe tension growing in her shoulders.
Long before an elderly woman spots her and snaps, “Tasa! Where have you been? My kitchen sink still doesn’t work!”
Tasa approaches and stops a few feet short.
The elderly woman still takes a step back, glaring.
Theaudacity—
“Sorry about that!” Tasa says. “I had something unexpected come up—”
The woman snorts derisively.
“—but I’m here now. Is your bathroom sink still working?”
“Yes, you didn’t break that one, but I can’t be hauling my vegetables back and forth all the time. You know how my knees get. Come now, before youforgetagain, lazy girl.”
“I’m afraid I am the unexpected occurrence that came up,” I tell the woman in an even tone before I can punch her in the face with my actual fist like a barbarian. “Tasa has been ensuring I didn’t die without supplies while looking into the magical situation here. My apologies to your knees.”
The old woman narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t sass me, young man. If you’re giving her an excuse to flake out on the one job she can do—”
Tasa interrupts, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise, but I got word of some sparking magic that I have to see to first.”
Shecan lie, at least. I appreciate the utility now in a way I never have before.
Tasa continues, “You know your next-door neighbor will bring you a casserole if your knees need a break.”
“Ican cook for my own self, thank you,” the woman says coldly before stalking off.
I look at Tasa. “Am I correct to assume you’re the reason any of them have functioning water in their homes right now at all?”
She looks back, and I hate the weariness in her gaze. “She doesn’t want to be dependent on anyone, certainly not me, and I don’t blame her for that. She’s known me a lot longer than you have, Kovan. You’re not going to convince anyone I’m some kind of savior, because I’m not. I’ve made their lives harder my whole life.”
I open my mouth, but she cuts me off and says, “Stop trying to tell me otherwise andlisten.”
That draws me up short.
And when she continues walking without saying anything more, I realize what she means.
I’ve spent my whole life listening to the priesthood first and foremost, not to the people, unfiltered.
So now I do.
