"Wring it properly, Tiff," Mother scolded.
I threw up my hands in exasperation. "How can there be a wrong way to do it?"
She pointed at the wad of wet laundry in my hands. "Clearly, you've found a way."
I vented my frustration by twisting the water out of the fabric (again). Whatever I'd been doing wrong, I must've corrected it, because Mother appeared satisfied with my second attempt. "Isn't there a machine that would do this?" I demanded. "Why don't we get one of those?"
Mother laughed without humor. "As if we could afford something like that."
"Is it expensive?" I asked innocently.
She plunged her arms back into the laundry basin. "Of course, they are. We'd have to hire either a carpenter or a blacksmith to make it for us."
"Oh," I murmured, feeling more than a little disappointed. I set the article of clothing into the basket with the other things to be hung to dry.
"Hello, Mistress Evangeline. Hello, Tiff."
A grin appeared on my lips before I even looked up. I could recognize Tsuki's voice anywhere. "Hello!"
My mother was less enthusiastic. She looked at him uncomfortably. "Good day, Tsuki."
I was confused by her reaction, but I quickly moved on. "How's Master Heele doing? Are you learning a lot?"
Tsuki automatically started helping with the laundry. He shook out one of the shirts I'd wrung and walked it over to the clothesline. "Master Heele is doing well. He's started letting me work on my own, but only on simple things."
I did my best to look impressed, which made him laugh.
"I know, I know," he acknowledged. "It's not very exciting. But, it's really handy for when Hoshi's shoes need mending. I don't know how she wears out shoes so quickly."
"I saw her this morning," I offered.
He nodded. "She's the one that told me you were here."
Mother had gone back to rinsing, so her attention wasn't on us. Tsuki moved closer to me and spoke softly. "What about your lessons?"
I sighed. "I wasn't able to go today. Mother found out about them, so I may not be able to go for a while."
Tsuki's eyes narrowed. I could see that he was troubled, even though he was wearing his wooden mask. "What if she says you can't go ever again?"
I also felt a stab of worry, but I hurried to shake my head. "She'll come around. She's mad right now, but I'm sure she'll change her mind when she calms down."
He hesitated. "I'm not so certain of that…"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Tsuki picked up another piece of laundry. "Things in the village haven't been the same since the Smitta arrived."
I immediately tensed. "In what way?"
He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "They are less accepting of anyone different. Ama can't sell her embroidery these days. No one will do business with her."
"What?"
My voice was louder than I intended, bringing Mother's attention back to us. "What's wrong?" she inquired.
"Tsuki said his mother can't sell her embroidery anymore because no one will buy it."
Mother's eyes dropped back to the laundry. "Oh. Yes, I'd heard that."
"That's unbelievable," I continued. "Her embroidery is the best in the fief!"
"There's no need to exaggerate," was Mother's only response.
"I'm not," I insisted. "Everyone knows it's the best."
Tsuki snorted. "That doesn't matter when-" He stopped abruptly.
I nudged him. "When, what?"
Mother cleared her throat. "I'm going to change out the water," she announced, dumping out the laundry tub and walking toward the well at the center of the village.
We were in the 'laundry square,' which was a small area with good drainage where the women of the village gathered to do laundry. It was close to the well and had permanent clotheslines in the sunniest locations. Laundry was usually done first thing in the morning, so we were the only ones there at that time.
With my mother gone, I spoke to Tsuki in a normal voice. "What were you saying?"
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "The Smitta has been teaching all sorts of things since he arrived. One of the topics is about the dangers of foreigners."
I was dumbfounded. "What?"
"People have started saying that it's time for us to move on," he admitted.
"To where?" I demanded. "It's not like you can go back to Navon."
"I don't think they care," Tsuki said. "They just don't want us here."
I crossed my arms with a huff. "My mother said that Smitta Farlin is welcoming everyone to the village. Why doesn't it apply to foreigners?"
Tsuki shook his head but had no answer.
"It's not like they can make you leave," I muttered.
He raised an eyebrow at me. "Yes, they can."
I knew he was right, and that made me angry. "Your family has been living here for a long time. You've never caused any problems. Why would anyone think that you are a danger to the village?"
Tsuki shrugged unhappily. "The Smitta seems to think that there are a lot of dangers in the village."
I made a spitting noise. "No one should believe that."
"Should is never really considered," Tsuki reminded me. "They believe it because they trust the man saying it."
"Well, you can come live with us," I offered with forced cheerfulness. "We'll be a house of outcasts."
Tsuki laughed softly but shook his head. "I don't think your mother would approve."
"Why not?" I asked. "She likes you."
He busied himself with hanging the laundry, acting like he hadn't heard me.
My frown returned. "Don't you believe me?"
He shrugged. "I just don't think your mother would agree."
"She doesn't listen to what the villagers say," I pointed out. "She wouldn't let your family become homeless."
Tsuki reached up and tugged at a lock of his black hair. "Smitta Farlin is different from the villagers. He comes from the capital and he's well-educated. People listen to him when he speaks, no matter what he's speaking about."
"Not my mother," I insisted.
"She has been, though," he said murmured. "Everyone has. You haven't seen it because you've been with Budding."
Mother returned with a fresh basin of water. She set it down and continued rinsing out the remaining laundry. "Don't waste time, T'phani," she scolded. "Wring out those clothes."
I groaned but obeyed. I wanted to keep talking with Tsuki. He patted my shoulder sympathetically but seemed ready to drop the subject.
"Mistress Evangeline, what a pleasant surprise."
My head whipped around to stare at the newcomer.
It was Smitta Farlin. He wore his strange green robes and I wondered if he ever wore anything else. The puffed sleeves gave him a funny silhouette, but he still managed to look thin and angular. The square hat on his head only emphasized the sharp lines of his face.
Tsuki's eyes widened when he saw the Smitta. He bowed politely, but immediately started to leave. "I should get going. I'll see you later, Tiff."
I barely had time to acknowledge before he was gone.
Farlin watched Tsuki leave through narrowed eyes. I couldn't read his expression, but it didn't seem good. Once it was just the three of us, he walked over to stand closer to us.
The Smitta was taller than I realized—easily over six feet tall (2 meters). He towered over Mother, who was an average height for a grown woman. I wondered if he had to duck when walking through doors or if he had a special bed to sleep in.
Mother hurriedly wiped her hands on her apron, curtsying to him politely. "Greetings, Smitta Farlin."
I didn't like the way she said his name. It was lingering and breathless like she was in awe of him.
His gaze turned to me. "I see you have brought…the child with you today."
His tone sounded friendly enough, but I could see the cold disdain in his eyes. It was as if he was looking at someone's muddy shoes on his newly scrubbed floor. This was my first time meeting him, but he already appeared to be bothered by my presence.
I wasn't inclined to like him after what Tsuki had said, but the look he gave me made any hope of cordiality between us vanish.
Mother stepped over to stand by me, putting her arm around my shoulders. "This is my daughter, Theophana."
Normally, I would've suggested that he call me Tiff, but my instincts revolted against the idea. Even though I didn't care for my full name, I didn't want this man speaking to me in any familiar way.
Mother pinched my arm. "Be polite," she whispered to me.
I rolled my eyes and bobbed a short curtsey. "Pleased to meet you," I muttered.
Farlin's eyes narrowed. "Good manners are the mark of a developed society," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm certain your mother has taught you, as she has lovely manners herself."
Mother's shoulders straightened as she smiled with pride. She nudged me with her elbow, which only made me want to find new ways to annoy them.
I took hold of my skirt and swept it outward, lowering myself into the bow that Mother and I used when we were pretending to be dancing at the king's palace. "How do you do?" I asked, enunciating every syllable.
Mother laughed nervously, but she pinched my arm even harder. "I apologize, Smitta Farlin. She seems to have become wilder since I began working away from home."
I gave them both a cheeky smile, which Farlin met with an icy one of his own. "You don't need to apologize, Mistress Evangeline. This poor child has many challenges that she faces."
My brow furrowed as I stared up at him. What was he talking about?
He placed a heavy hand on my head, patting it harder than necessary. "Those unfortunate ones who are born with non-human blood are faced with the battle against their very nature. It is a fight they will have their entire lives."
I was bewildered. "Huh?"
The Smitta looked down on me with an expression akin to pity but without the compassion. "All living beings have innate weaknesses. This is a fact known by all, child."
I gave an exasperated sigh. "I know that."
He held up a finger to silence me. "Do not interrupt."
I pressed my lips together, but I couldn't stop the glare shooting out of my eyes.
"Some beings are more flawed than others," he went on. "This isn't prejudice, it's a proven fact. Just as chickens cannot fly despite having wings, so they cannot be compared to the sparrow or the hawk."
"Are you saying I'm like a chicken?" I asked incredulously.
Farlin raised his hand in a sharp motion, and for a split second, I thought he was going to hit me. His brown eyes were like the point of a blade as he turned on me. "I told you to not interrupt." His words were clipped and forceful.
Mother took hold of my hand. "That isn't what he was saying, Tiff," she soothed. "He's just trying to help you understand."
"Humans have proven their strength by their ability to withstand the evil influences of magic," Smitta Farlin said, getting straight to the point. "That is the gift that we were born with. Humankind, alone of the thinking peoples, is free from those dark forces that seduce and corrupt the heart. However, when human blood is mixed with others' it becomes weak. A half-human must fight twice as hard to overcome their innate wickedness."
My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. I looked over at my mother to see her reaction, certain that this horrible man was about to get an earful from her.
Nothing.
Mother didn't say anything. She didn't look angry or offended. Her eyes were fixed on the ground and her fists were clenched tight, but her face didn't speak indignation. Instead, she appeared to be…embarrassed.
At first, I'd been upset for my own sake. Were people loaves of bread, where the wrong balance of ingredients ruined the whole thing? What kind of idiot thought that an entire species was inferior to another?
Innate wickedness? What a cartload of manure!
But, now… Now I could see the shame on my mother's face. I could see the hurt in her heart that she tried to keep hidden. No one was allowed to expose her like that. I would fight an army of Smittas before allowing them to harm her!
"You shut up," I shouted at him. "You pretend to be nice, but you're really just a hateful old man!"
Mother grasped my arm, but I yanked it away. "You say that non-humans are evil, so what about the people who are friends with them? What about the people who love them? How is loving someone more evil than saying that they are corrupted and wicked? How can it be fair to say that an entire group of people are naturally bad? That's like saying that every dog in the world is mean, which is obviously not true. From what I can tell, the only ones who are always bad are the Followers of Purity!"
Mother slapped me.
Not once, but twice.
She forced me to my knees and knelt beside me. She bowed to Smitta Farlin, ducking her head low.
"Please, forgive my daughter," she begged. "She's nothing but a child! She doesn't understand what she's saying."
I remained kneeling, but I didn't bow. Perhaps I'd been wrong to speak out so recklessly—I certainly wouldn't have done so in the past—but I hadn't been wrong in what I said. My mother had taught me to be cautious around outsiders, for my own safety, but she'd also taught me to speak the truth.
Did the carelessness start with my lessons with Budding? Had learning about magic made me feel braver?
Honestly, I wasn't sure if I was braver but I was certainly bolder. Mother probably would've called it audacity, but I felt as if the world itself was encouraging me.
Regardless of the process, this was the result. I dared to defy Smitta Farlin openly, I dared to ignore my mother's wishes. I wouldn't beg for mercy. I would yell at him again, given the slightest provocation.
Farlin's eyes bore into mine. I could feel the contest of wills like electricity in the air. His lips parted to show his teeth, but I knew it wasn't really a smile.
"Do not be distressed, Mistress Evangeline. As you said, you have been working outside the home. She seemed to have picked up some bad habits…"
His gaze flickered toward the mountain forest where Budding still waited for me. My heart stopped at that moment. I could feel the blood draining from my face, leaving me a sickly shade of yellow.
He directed his next words to me, his calm expression tainted with spite. "You seem to think poorly of your mother, Theophana. Do you believe she is the type of person to rejoice in evil deeds?"
I was baffled by his statement. I couldn't think of any words to respond.
"Your mother is a victim," he continued. "She was tricked by the forest demon when she was too young to know better. She has spent years making amends for her mistakes, and she is walking a path that will lead to her regaining true Purity."
Mother let out a small sob, nodding with her face near the ground. "I am trying, Smitta. I want to be forgiven."
"And you will be," he assured her, "with time and continued effort. Purity is not perfection, but a heart devoted to the light."
My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. What was happening?
"As for you," he touched a finger to my forehead, "I worry for your soul. While it can only be considered half a soul, it is still important to save what we can."
"Half…" I started to sputter, but Mother reached over to force my head to the ground. She held me into the deep bow until I stopped struggling.
"I can see how much your mother loves you," Farlin approved. "She also wishes to bring you to the light."
"Yes, Smitta," Mother rushed to agree.
"I think it would be best for you to turn her education over to me," he decided. "She has a strong spirit, which can be beneficial. It will help her to overcome her tiernan tendencies, but only if she is properly directed."
My mother hesitated for only a moment before nodding again. "Yes, Smitta."
Farlin proceeded to give instructions on how the arrangement would go, but his words were jumbled to my ears.
Had my mother actually agreed to turn me over to that man?
My mother—who had always protected me from harm and assured me that I was just as important as any other human being—was going to allow Smitta Farlin to train and educate me?
I gripped a handful of grass, not caring that I was tearing it from its roots.
What had happened over the past couple of months? I was aware that I hadn't been spending much time with Mother, but I couldn't fathom how so much had changed. How was it possible?
Was she just saying these things to avoid trouble? It wouldn't be the first time that had happened.
Maybe that was it. She was just pretending, like when she would tell the soldiers that I was a stranger that she was taking to the mountains.
It was just a means of survival.
I could accept that. Sometimes it was more important to be safe than to be honest.
I would just wait until we were safe at home, and then I could talk to Mother about what had happened today. She would tell me that she hadn't meant any of it and we'd come up with a plan on how to avoid Smitta Farlin in the future.
Everything would be fine.