Zyke was bathing – or rather, prying the biggest dirt crusts from - her riotous baby brother when the clanging from the adjacent room overwhelmed even the twins trading insults.
“Kyewdz!” She called, keeping the baby goblin’s hands away from the strigil. “Don’t play with Dad’s things!”
“I can take some wire!” Her younger sister yelled back. “He told me!”
A memory came to Zyke as she let her brother take the little strigil and took the adult-sized one - he was dirtier than any adult she had ever seen anyway. “Weren’t you to learn knitting from Nan Tala, Kyewdz?”
“I went yesterday!”
“And today you’re a lord’s taylor, huh?” Zyke replied, not prying her eyes and hands away from little Loue. “Learned everything there is to know, I bet – Nuri! Othik! Quieter! You’ll wake Old Makti!”
The twins shot back a defiant choral reply about how little they cared about the elder, but lowered their voices anyway – no one wanted to be at the wrong end of Makti’s glare.
In the relative quiet, Zyke heard the tapping of bare feet leave the bedroom and come to her side. She spared a glance to Kyewdz, who was tinkering with a bunch of wire and had something colored held between her lips. She gave a last appraising look to Loue. “That’s enough for now, young man, but remember, tonight is bath night.”
“Ba’ Na’! Ba’ Na’!” The baby echoed as he was put into Zyke’s sling, the little strigil still in his tiny hands.
Zyke finally turned to Kyewdz. The girl was tweaking the tail of some winged figure made of wire, and had a multicolored knitted circle in her mouth. “What’s that?”
“’Raghon,” Kyewdz replied, raising the wire figure, “Hach ho’ lo’e,” she added raising her chin. She didn’t move her eyes from the wire.
Zyke took the circle from her sister’s mouth. “Once more, please, with feeling.”
“Dragon,” the girl said, “and hat for Loue.”
Zyke eyed the wire figure, which now had something resembling a mouth. “And what did you give Nan Tala for this?” She asked, dangling the hat before Kyewdz’ eyes.
Kyewdz stepped back and held the “dragon” closer to her chest. “Nothing.”
Zyke’s brow furrowed: Tala wasn’t one for gifts. “Kyewdz. No stealing from other goblins, remember? It’s a Rule.”
“Didn’t steal!” Kyewdz shrieked, glaring at her wire dragon. Her crest of wild orange hair trembled in anger. “She gave wool to practice. Said if we finished a thing, it was ours.”
Zyke took a better look at the hat, and started noticing some skipped or double passes. Not Tala’s handiwork. “And you did this at your first try?”
“No, but it was right at the end.”
“Kyewdz.” Zyke lowered her head to her sister’s level. “Kyewdz, look at me. Is that true?”
The goblin girl met Zyke’s gaze for the first time, her eyes defiant and bloodshot. “Nan Tala taught us the pass, gave us wool to practice. She said, I did. Did and undid, did and undid. Many times, more than nine. Was bored, made mistakes. Was sleepy too. But hat finished, I learned enough. And hat mine, like she said.” She glanced at the baby babbling in Zyke’s sling, and her anger softened. “Now hat is Loue’s.”
Zyke blinked, floored. Either her sister was a born liar, or… “But if you learned so much with one lesson, why stop?”
“Booooored,” Kyewdz whined. “Learned enough. Knitting is boring, I know now,” she said seriously. “Want to make metal things now. Fire, hammers, sparks! Want to make a metal dragon!” She showed Zyke her wire dragon. “Roar!”
“A very scary dragon,” Zyke replied absently. Cursed like Father, she thought, just in the opposite way. Or maybe Father’s dedication also focused with time?
Kyewdz beamed proudly, and ran away roaring. Zyke lowered her eyes on Loue, who was napping with the strigil’s filthy tip in his mouth. She carefully swapped the strigil with Kyewdz’s hat, and thought about the future.
* * *
Their father Rawa ate last, as always.
They tried to wait for him each time, encouraged by their mother Sarliz. Then Loue started crying, and Kyewdz folded on herself hugging her belly, her ears low not to hear the wailing and her knees bouncing like crazy. When the twins’ roughhousing systematically ended up with one of them sitting on the other’s chest, Zyke gave a weary look to Sarliz, and the mother capitulated with a last sigh. But Rawa never looked disappointed when he come home late at night. At least, not when the children got to see him.
That night Rawa came home early - still after they had began eating, but early for him – and Saliz started bringing him up to speed with the day’s events.
“So you want to work metal?” He asked Kyewdz, who nodded with her mouth full. “It’s dangerous, you know?”
Kyewdz swallowed. “Knitting needle slips, you hurt an eye or hand,” she replied, mimicking the incident with her knife. “Knitting dangerous too?”
Rawa’s snort didn’t dare to become a proper laughter under her wife’s glare. “Everything can be dangerous, but some jobs are more likely to hurt you than others.”
“But I’m careful!”
“Like with Loue’s hat, Q?” Zyke commented.
Kyewdz glared at her older sister. “Snitch!” She hissed.
“What’s wrong with it?” Rawa asked, eyeing it across the table.
“Was bored and sleepy,” she shrugged, lowering her eyes. “Made a few mistakes. Little ones.”
“That’s a few mistakes too many,” Rawa replied, suddenly dead serious. “There are places where you can’t afford mistakes, Kyewdz, and a smithy is one of them.”
“Won’t!” Kyewdz declared with a sweeping gesture. “Won’t make mistakes.”
“Even if it was true,” Sarliz said, “No smith will get an apprentice as young as you, Kyewdz.”
“But Nyla works with her father!”
“She just cleans and brings her father tools,” Sarliz pointed out.
“She also works vises, and she doesn’t want to become a smith,” Kyewdz insisted, working an imaginary vise. “I could take her place!”
Sarliz sighed. Rawa barked a laughter. Sarliz shot a glare at her husband. “Don’t pretend you don’t know where that stubbornness came from.”
“Do you know for sure?” Rawa replied with a playful smile. “I remember a certain headstrong girl leaving her family and her city behind just to move to Lakos with an outcast tinker-ow!”
“No doubt about the smartassery, though,” Sarliz said, flourishing her wooden spoon in Rawa’s direction. But she couldn’t hold back a smile, and the children shared a quiet chuckle.
“On this happy note,” said Nuri, standing up with his brother after meeting his gaze, “and about the “smart” part...”
“Since Nuri’s always an ass, so that’s-” Othik was interrupted by his twin’s elbow.
“We’ve got something to show you all, right Othik?” Nuri hissed. Othik nodded breathlessly, and both strode out of the room.
The remaining family members looked at each other, confused.
“Catch, Da!”
Rawa caught the flying satchel, but its weight almost toppled him. “What...”
“The result of a flawless Mockingbird’s Jump,” Othik announced proudly.
“Arin had a tear in his eye, yes he had,” Nuri added. “And the kor didn’t even notice, just… beautiful.”
“There must be at least twenty golds here...” Rawa muttered, eyes wide. At those words, Zyke and Kyewdz craned their necks to get a glimpse.
“Twenty-seven, to be precise,” Othik beamed.
“Arin like One-Tooth Arin?” Sarliz said with her Tone, and an icy silence fell on the table.
“...Yes?” Nuri ventured.
“Did he ever tell you why he’s down to the one tooth?”
“We supposed it was age...” Nuri said.
“...But a few other explanations come to mind right now,” Othik completed, wincing.
“You think Kyewdz’s fear of dogs is funny?” Sarliz asked somberly. “Show Arin a vedalken blackjack, you’ll laugh for days.”
The twins looked at leach other, crestfallen. “Yes, but… the Rules don’t...”
Rawa’s tattooed hand found Sarliz’s, and his fingers entwined with hers. Sarliz took a deep breath. “It’s like your father said, boys. There are jobs where a single mistake can cost... a lot. I lost a sister to the angels’ cells, well before you were born. I don’t want to...” She blinked fast, tears in her eyes.
The twins stared at their mother, horror plain in their faces. Zyka brought Loue to her chest and whispered something to his ear, keeping his face away from Sarliz. Kyewdz’s eyes darted everywhere. Rawa brought her wife’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, softly, and offered her a sad but warm smile when she met his gaze.
“...Just promise me to be careful,” Sarliz eventually said, her breath even again. “Please.”
“We promise,” the twins said in chorus, right hands immediately to their chest. “Mouth and heart.”
A somber silence lingered after the twins’ words.
“That’s almost how much I do in a whole month, boys,” Rawa commented in a careful tone, “no need for another score like this soon, right?” Rawa eyed the twins meaningfully. “We’ll make it last.”
The two shared a glance. “Yeah, sure, nothing wrong in taking it slow, right Othik?”
“Took the words from my mouth, Nuri, I swear.”
Rawa smiled to the twins, who sat down with a grateful breath, and put the satchel to the ground. “Steaks and cheese for a month, Sarliz? What do you think?” He asked encouragingly. The children brightened at the mention of rich food.
Sarliz glanced within the satchel. “Maybe not every day, but close to,” she nodded. “There’s gifts to account for.”
The twins looked confused. “Gifts?”
“To elders and cripples.” Sarliz took a deep breath. “I come from a family of thieves,” she explained. “When you score big, you give something to those who can’t work for themselves. You show you take care of those in need, so it’s more likely you’ll be helped when you’re the one needing something.” She sighed. “Like well-feigned ignorance, for example.”
“Our friends would never sell us,” Nuri said, appalled.
“Maybe not your friends,” Sarliz replied. “But are you friends with the whole block? And with Arin’s tongue being what it is, do you think someone in the block doesn’t know by now?” She sighed again. “Look, I’m not saying it’s likely, it’s just that I saw it happen more than once, and I won’t take any chances. Your father’s job at the leylines already makes us envied, we don’t need more distance between us and the other goblin families. Do you understand?”
The twins frowned, but nodded. Zyke, on the other hand, wasn’t convinced. “And why would they envy that? Sixteen to eighteen hours a day in the tall quarters? I wonder how many goblins could manage that.”
“There’s a reason why your father’s the only goblin working there,” Sarliz replied with a hint of pride. “But people only see he brings home half again the coin other goblins make, and to some that’s enough to envy.”
Rawa silently cleaned up his bowl and left the room. Kyewdz did the same, finding her father lying face-up at the center of the family’s large bed, eyes closed. She slowly and carefully crawled beside him, but despite her best efforts her father’s eyes opened again, looking at her with a weary smile. “You tired too, little Q?”
Kyewdz nodded. “Didn’t sleep last night.”
Rawa rolled on his side to better see her daughter. “Knitting, right? Why spending so much time doing something you called boring?”
“Wanted to get it,” Kyewdz replied, tracing the lines on her father’s arms with a finger. “After that, it got boring. Can get it right if I want, but...”
“There’s something more interesting to do.”
Kyewdz nodded.
“Like wire dragons.”
Kyewdz nodded again, more emphatically. “Want to make a real one, a metal one. Bigger than any dog. So my pet can scare theirs.”
Rawa smiled fondly. “That’s an admirable project. Two days ago, however, I remember you swearing you’d knit scarves and mittens for all of us. What has become of that?”
Kyewdz didn’t reply. She moved her father’s forearm so she could better follow the tattoo’s lines.
Rawa hummed thoughtfully. “Having fun there?”
Kyewdz gladly changed topic. “They look... strong. What do they mean?”
Rawa made an inquisitive noise.
“Qwati has a snake tattooed where a viper bit him. He told me it protects him from other snakes.” Kyewdz explained. “Told me every tattoo has a meaning.”
“Qwati says a lot of things,” Rawa replied. “...I guess my tattoos mean I’m a leyline worker. Like Qwati’s, they have a purpose, rather than a meaning. They… they allow me to interact with magic as easily I can touch you.” He tapped on Kyewdz’ nose, as to prove his point.
Kyewdz’ eyes went wide. “You can touch magic? Do all leyline workers have these?”
“More or less, and no. At work they call me Rune-Eye, because I’m the only one able to see mana and enchantments. So I-”
“Really? What do they look like?”
Rawa yawned. “...mana looks like colored, shimmering mist, while enchantments… something like glowing tattoos, I guess.”
“Can I have one too?”
Rawa frowned, confused. “One what? Enchantment?”
“Tattoo. I want one like yours.” Her finger stopped for a moment. “But to bend metal. And cut it. And meld it. And- how many things can tattoos do?”
Rawa didn’t reply immediately. Kyewdz looked up to make sure he wasn’t sleeping. Eventually, he said: “Let’s make a deal: we’ll wait a month, then if you’re still convinced about metalworking, we’ll start talking about what exactly do you want tattoos for. How does that sound?”
Kyewdz frowned, expecting to be told to wait more at that point. “But I want them now.”
Rawa sighed. “I was thirteen when I got mine, little Q, and my parents were very unhappy about that. If you’re really into metalworking, you’ll still get them younger than me, and I’ll talk Mother into it. Isn’t that enough?”
Kyewdz met her father’s gaze for a moment, than lowered it again and nodded curtly.
“Good. Now will you let me sleep, little Q?”
Kyewdz immediately rolled away, guilt burning on her cheeks, but her father dragged her back against his chest.
“I was rude just now, Q, I apologize. Will you forgive me, little Q? I could never fall asleep without hugging my favorite pillow.”
Kyewdz nuzzled against her father’s neck, giggling, and all was forgiven.
As I said, I'll look into that.