Энн Маккефри - Dragon’s Kin

“Not like that,” Nuella corrected him. “His mother was blind, too. There aren’t that many blind people, you know.”

Kindan nodded, then said, “I know.”

“Well,” Nuella went on, “I heard him and Mother talking about it several times. Arguing, really. My father’s afraid that people will wonder what’s wrong with him, if his children are blind. And they won’t trust him. And he’s afraid that no one will marry Dalor.” With a catch in her voice, she added, “He doesn’t think I’ll ever get married.”

“So he wants to keep you a secret?” Kindan asked. Nuella nodded. “I don’t see how. Master Zist knows, I know, and Zenor knows. It was a wonder others didn’t figure it out the other day.”

Nuella snorted. “Some people who have perfectly good eyes only see what they want,” she said. “I usually wear clothes to match Dalor’s. Once Milla brushed right by me without even noticing.”

“And what a choice bit of gossip she’d make of you,” Kindan replied.

“She would, indeed,” Nuella agreed, adding bitterly, “And then Uncle Tarik would spread the gossip throughout the camp. ‘If he can’t make decent children, what sort of miner can he be?’ ”

Kindan considered her words carefully. He could see Tarik saying such spiteful things, and he could imagine there would be some who would listen. Certainly Tarik’s cronies would. And they’d repeat the gossip. And, if anything went wrong, like the bad air in the hold, there’d always be some who would start believing the gossip.

“All the same, you’re going to be found out sometime,” Kindan said.

Nuella nodded. “I’ve been telling Father that ever since we came up here. And I want to get out. But he keeps telling me to wait until the right time. He had hopes—before the cave-in...”

Kindan felt his throat tighten as he remembered all that had been lost in that cave-in. Master Zist had kept him so busy that it was only in his sleep—his nightmares—that he remembered the past, and his family.

“There’s a Gather tonight,” Kindan said. “I’ve got to get over there.”

“I won’t hear it if I stay here,” Nuella said, downcast. She held up her fingers, which were dotted with tiny pinpricks. “Mother says that everyone does this. I’m not sure—”

“Oh, they do!” Kindan said reassuringly. “I saw Zenor with the same pinpricks—diaper pins, right?—with his sisters.”

Kindan could tell that his words had relieved Nuella’s fears. One thing bothered him, though. “How long has Zenor known?”

“Oh, since the first sevenday we moved here,” Nuella said with a grin. “He fell off the fence when he was trying to get away from Cristov and hurt himself pretty badly.” She made a face. “I heard him crying. I couldn’t just leave him there for Cristov to find and probably kick, so I bundled him up to my room and bandaged him up and we’ve been friends ever since.”

Kindan made a rueful face. “Well, your secret’s safe with him, that’s for sure. I’m his best friend and he never told me.”

“Good,” Nuella said firmly, causing Kindan to glance up at her. “He wouldn’t be much of a friend if he couldn’t even keep a secret from you, would he?”

“Well...”

Nuella nodded. “I see, you think that because he’s your friend he should tell you all his secrets, is that it?”

Kindan’s frown grew more thoughtful. “Well...”

“But now you know that anything you’ve ever told him he’s kept secret—even from me,” Nuella pointed out.

That thought cheered Kindan up. “Wait a minute! It was you who threw those rocks when we were cleaning Dask! You warned us. But how did you know...”

“There’s a difference between keeping a secret and keeping out of sight,” Nuella said primly. She giggled. “Or out of hearing. I may not see, but I can hear better than anyone in the camp. And I can smell better, too.”

Kindan didn’t say anything so Nuella continued, “I heard you and Zenor talking. I heard what you were talking about. I wanted to help you, but I hadn’t been invited and I wasn’t supposed to let anyone know about me so—”

“You hid out and listened in,” Kindan finished. He flashed a smile at Nuella that faded as he realized she couldn’t see it, but her hand reached out toward his face, found his lips, and traced lightly over them.

“People think that you can’t hear someone smiling,” she said, her fingers still on Kindan’s lips. “Maybe it’s not really hearing, either, but I can feel it somehow.” She drew her fingers back. “I always thought you’d have a nice smile,” she said. “I was right.”

“Thanks,” Kindan said, feeling a bit awkward. He found himself touching his own lips, as though feeling them for the first time. “But I’ve got to get over to the Gather. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

In the end, they used the Harper’s clothes basket. A brightly colored robe and a hat made Nuella look like she might as easily be a trader or a miner. At Nuella’s urging, Kindan applied a bit of makeup to darken her skin color.

“Make sure you bring some pipes,” she said as they headed out the door.

“I don’t play pipes,” Kindan protested.

“I do,” Nuella replied with a grin.

They arrived just as the great hall was being set up. Master Zist and Trader Tarri were parked in a corner with a plate of Milla’s best dainties and a jug of good klah close at hand. Master Zist’s eyes widened as he saw Kindan’s companion. Kindan gave him a don’t-worry look, to which the Harper replied with an I’d-better-not-have-to grimace.

Kindan helped Nuella up onto the table where he’d performed the evening before, settled her on a stool somewhat behind him, and set up his own drums.

“I’d like to hear your pipes, Nuella,” Kindan said.

Nuella obligingly started into a lively little song. Master Zist looked up, caught sight of Nuella on the pipes, and gave Kindan another probing look. As the song came to the end, Kindan said to her, “That was great. How many more do you know?”

“I’m best at that one,” Nuella admitted. “But Master Zist has had me practice on four others.”

Kindan nodded to himself. “Well then, I’ll make you earn your keep. I’ll start with the drums and when I’m tired, I’ll ask you to do a song. I won’t ask you to do more than one song for my three, can you do that?”

“I can,” Nuella said. “But I’ve never had to play for very long.”

“You’ll find that if you get enough rest in between sets you can play as long as they’ll let you,” Kindan assured her. Nuella smiled and Kindan was struck by how much she looked like her brother—only prettier. Her sharp blue eyes really lit up when her cheeks curved in a smile.

Kindan bent closer to her and said for her ears alone, “Sometimes I’ll want to leave you for a bit so that I can hear what people are saying. There are things they’d say when they don’t know anyone’s listening that they’d never share with the Harper.”

Nuella nodded. “It’s a pity the place will be so crowded,” she said. “I can hear much better than you.”

“I’ll bet you can,” Kindan agreed. “And if you listen in when I’m playing and tell me what you hear later, I’d be grateful.”

“Okay, I will.”

The first hour went marvelously. Every time Kindan caught sight of Master Zist’s eyes, it was only to get a cheerful wave or nod. Nuella’s piping was a great relief for Kindan, who mingled with the crowd—mostly women and younger folk—and caught tidbits of gossip as he did.

He was pleased to discover that everyone thought Dara lucky to have four apprentices put up in her place. A sour note was Dara herself who, as Kindan had expected, had discovered that Tarik was not thrilled to see his privacy so eroded. Kindan suppressed a smile at the thought of Tarik’s displeasure.