“Someone else is writing those words?”
“Yes. They have a second enchanted slate. The slates mirror each other. Whatever they etch, I see and so is the reverse. But you have to sand off the previous message to begin again.”
I closed my mouth so as to not look like a fish. Tintar was proving to be outlandish.
“Well,” he began. “You have much to learn, Edie Angler.”
It was vexing to hear my new name. I nodded. “I am nervous.”
“I meant you have much to learn, not just of Mother Earth and the rest of the Farthest Four, but of yourself. We must determine your penchant. A mere touch of my hands on yours will not tell me. Together we will uncover how you have been blessed.”
“And I understand a penchant to be a specificity?”
“Yes. Mine is dirt.”
I tried to turn my little, shocked laugh into a cough.
He shook his head. “It was meant in jest, but yes, I do have a penchant for dirt. All things soil and I am blessed in this general penchant. Often, the more specific, the less powerful a penchant. For instance, some of our farmers can grow barley time after time, an exceedingly bountiful crop. But should they try their hand at another harvest, in the same soil, even with the best of weather, they will not have the same luck. Or the boy who can tame a fox kit simply by speaking to it, cannot speak to any other animal. Does that make any sense? Please tell me if it does not. So much of this is fundamental. Everyone who has ever come to our temples was a born and bred Tintarian. This is all taught to children, all Tintarian children, even if they’ve no magic.”
I smiled. “You are making perfect sense. Continue speaking to me as if I am a child.”
He gave a short laugh. “I knew I would like you. Something about the way you handled my cousin in the throne room. I admired you from the first.”
Hinnom had not treated him like family, I thought.
He continued. “Perhaps that is why the captain spared you and your friends in that invasion. Alric is devout to Mother Earth. Maybe he sensed her blessing.”
I remained silent. Alric had not instructed me which rumor I was to confirm, his falling for me or for my ruse.
I will not shame you and I hope you will not shame me.
“Ah!” Cian sat up straighter. “I am forgetful. I have been so looking forward to meeting with you, once I had you all to myself, I forgot.” He pulled a piece of parchment folded in four from under the ledger and handed it to me. “Alric had to leave in a hurry for Sealmouth. He wrote this in the temple antechamber and asked me to give it to you.”
I took the parchment from Cian and went to unfold it, but he had continued speaking.
“Where was I? Oh yes. Your penchant. We will discover this together. And I will have you shadow me in my duties as archpriest as we do. It is the best way to learn the nature of our goddess. I will, as you are a literate woman, give you some books. On loan. They are scarce here. And some of these tomes behind me, handwritten.”
“I will handle with care,” I promised, my hands running over the parchment in them.
“I know you will. I truly look forward to our discovering your blessing. And once you have found your place in the order, you will have work in the temple. The pay is little. Our taxes only go to so many things. You can see our king only cares for his shark skeletons. He does not decorate his keep in finery. His coin is in his coffers and his temples and armies. We do not overtax our citizens.” He stood and turned to the shelves behind him, his right hand running over the spines. “Now, there are three that I am thinking will help you the most.”
I itched to open the letter. This is girlish nonsense, I thought to myself. I was about to learn about actual magic. I should put this note out of my mind. It was likely a grim and factual note as it was from a grim and factual man. I shoved the note into my pocket, next to the hagstone. I was confused at my own interest. This marriage would be borne and maybe one day, border on something more than civility and be genial. In our old age, we could even be friends.
36. Study
“Here we are!” Cian said, setting three thin volumes on the desk before me. All were leather-covered and rather amateurishly bound.
“One of these is handwritten,” he explained, picking up the book on the top. “It is an old earth Tintarian’s dull account of the terrain in Tintar, from our coast rock to our inner, more agrarian lands. But, I would have you read it as I feel Mother Earth in you and an understanding of her landscape is needed. Secondly,” he continued and he picked up the second in the stack, “this is ‘The Remarkable Loaming of Our Goddess,’ and this is printed, much more easy on the eyes. It is an explanation of all earth penchants, be it dirt or plant or animal. It’s exhaustive. Perhaps you have sheep magic. Perhaps you have herb magic. We will learn together. As you read ‘The Remarkable Loaming’ if you feel a pull to a particular chapter, tell me. This may be significant.”
“Might I ask—”
“You might ask me anything. This is your schooling.”
“How do you know I have earth magic?”
He shifted and crossed his legs under his robes. “At the risk of seeming arrogant, I am a powerful earth Tintarian. I can sense the blessings in others, but mostly fellow earth folk. The same is with Thalia and those blessed by Sister Sea. Yro, the archpriest of Brother Air and Bamber, the archpriest of Father Fire have the same ability. Like recognizes like. You may soon see the goddess in others.”
“And when you looked at me, you knew?”
