A Promise Broken

by Lynn E. O'Connacht

  “Ugh.”

  All Eiryn understood of the exchange was that her uncle was very tired and Keilan-minnai was now very annoyed and very hurried, and neither of them seemed very inclined to be thinking of food. “I’m hungry,” she said. Because she was a lady now, she tried to say it quite primly and loudly the way Syla-minnai sometimes spoke in class, but when her uncle and Keilan-minnai started to laugh she hunched in on herself.

  Her uncle pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. Eiryn grumped at him. “I’m sorry, safai. We’re not laughing at you, I promise.”

  Even then she did not quite believe him, but he combed through her hair with his fingers and rearranged some of what Keilan-minnai had done, humming under his breath. It felt comfortable and cosy and she wished her uncle would do it more often.

  “We’ll be late,” Keilan-minnai said. “I’m sorry, Eiryn, but if you want something to eat first we need to go the kitchens now.” Keilan-minnai held out a pair of slippers for Eiryn to wear and then offered her hand. She wriggled her fingers at Eiryn and Arèn-minnoi assured her he would be with them shortly.

  And then off they went, the soft thrum of Keilan-minnai’s voice familiar but confusing. There was a tug at Eiryn and the world shimmered and they were standing in the courtyard right outside the kitchens before she could blink.

  “What did you do?” she asked as Keilan-minnai ducked her head through a window and called for some bread.

  “Transported us both. I’ve done it before. Do you remember Anou’s birthday when I took you and Radèn-doi to the beach?”

  Eiryn nodded and frowned. Did that mean it didn’t sound the same because Keilan-minnai hadn’t taken her to the same place or because Radèn wasn’t with them? If she asked, Keilan-minnai might tell her. But if she figured it out herself, her uncle would be proud of her. Wouldn’t he? “Why don’t you do it all the time?”

  Keilan-minnai handed Eiryn a roll of dark bread with a pink centre. “It’s very tiring.”

  As she took a bite from her roll, Eiryn said ‘Oh’, and chewed. The bread was still nice and warm, and the pink centre turned out to be strawberry jam. The roll Keilan-minnai was holding was yellow, so Eiryn assumed it had to be honey. She ate her bread quickly and licked her fingers clean like a cat. She was very careful to keep Innas safe from the jam because Innas hated water and she was a bit surprised when Keilan-minnai gave her the yellow treat as well. Just to be safe, Eiryn tucked Innas into her new sash.

  “Shall we walk for a bit?”

  “Okay.” Eiryn bit into the second roll and followed Keilan-minnai. The woman merely walked through the archway to the big courtyard and then to the fountain in the middle, so that wasn’t much of a walk at all. There, once Eiryn had finished the honey bread, Keilan-minnai made her wash her hands and face. Eiryn drank some of the water too because she was thirsty and her throat felt sticky and thick.

  “All ready?”

  Eiryn nodded. “Innas isn’t, but ao’s never ready for anything.”

  Keilan-minnai gave a sharp nod and took Eiryn’s hand again as she started to sing the farakaoina again. Eiryn thought she could hear the linking one her uncle had pointed out to her too, but before she could exclaim about that she found herself at the foot of a tower. The stone gleamed white rather than shiny, and if Eiryn tilted her head all the way back then she still couldn’t see the top of it. Keilan-minnai walked into the building. It had no doors at all and the inside held little more than a dimly lit staircase.

  “I don’t want to be here,” the girl whispered as she pressed Innas closer. “We’re scared.”

  Keilan-minnai stroked Eiryn’s hair. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, asafai. I promise.” Eiryn wanted her uncle. Arèn-minnoi would’ve acknowledged that Innas was scared too. But there was little for it but to follow Keilan-minnai. She was going up the steep stairs and if Eiryn didn’t want to be left alone in a strange place she had to go up too.

  By the time Eiryn encountered a window, the incessant white had started to hurt her eyes and she stopped to look out over the water. She couldn’t see the sun because it was only a tiny window, but she could see the blue of the sea and the sky and a salty breeze brushed past her face. It didn’t make her want to squint either.

  “Hurry, Eiryn-dai,” Keilan-minnai’s voice sounded from above and Eiryn reluctantly followed.

  “Who made this?” she asked. “Where are we going?”

  “Lir-minnaoi Enrai’Sarrynna Enroi’Dyrmallen made it long ago. We’re going to Enkeina.” Keilan-minnai seemed so annoyed with her for asking that Eiryn trailed after the woman silently. She was getting dizzy from the amount of turning she was doing and she didn’t really want to think about how she was going to get down again.

  If this was her birthday then the necklace in no way made up for it. It was the worst birthday ever and Eiryn was grumbling to herself and panting under her breath from having to keep up with Keilan-minnai along the staircase. And just as she decided that she’d sit down on the stairs and refuse to take another step, Eiryn tumbled out into the sunshine.

  The breeze was much stronger up here and the light was particularly bright after the climb she’d just had, but even so Eiryn noticed the people gathered there and the big stone they stood around. The stone didn’t look like much. The platform they were all standing on was inlaid with all the colours Eiryn could possibly imagine, but the stone itself was just a plain, grey, star-shaped lump on the ground.

  Everyone around her seemed to have dressed up in their finest clothing, although Keilan-minnai had much nicer dresses that did not make her look like a giant bee. If it hadn’t been so early in the morning, Eiryn would have assumed they were going to have a big banquet right there. Though there weren’t any tables on the platform and those were important. People usually ate at tables. “Where are we?” she asked.

  Before Keilan-minnai could answer, Radèn-minnoi called Eiryn’s name. He had to push his way through the small crowd of adults, some of whom muttered annoyedly at him, before Eiryn spotted him. Her friend was wearing the great, floppy hat that made him look particularly silly, but Eiryn had never told him so. She felt better knowing that Radèn-minnoi was up there as well.

  She waved at him, but he ignored her in favour of running over to give her a hug. “Blessed birthday!” he said and hugged her again. Eiryn still didn’t understand why she was there, and her uncle hadn’t arrived yet either. Radèn grinned at her, stepping back to give her a little more space. The adults around them seemed to ignore them and even Keilan-minnai was perfectly content to wander off in search of her wife. It left Eiryn feeling very confused.

  “Why are we here, Radèn?” Eiryn was a lady now, so she could drop the honorific. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. She preferred the way his name sounded when it was all said in full. It sounded like a farakaoina.

  Radèn’s grin vanished a little and wriggled his eyebrows at her. He wasn’t very good at it. “Because it’s your birthday. Didn’t Arèn-minnoi tell you?”

  Eiryn shook her head. “Keilan-minnai only said to hurry.”

  Making a face, Radèn-minnoi plonked himself down on the raised, grey stone to great shouts from the gathered adults. He bounced up quick as a fish and settled himself against the one wall the platform had. It didn’t offer much shadow, but it was something and Eiryn knew it would keep Radèn’s mother from worrying too much.

  “Adults never tell you anything,” the boy said, and he sounded so much like a grumbling adult himself that Eiryn giggled as she sat herself down beside him.

  “Do you know what’s happening today?” she asked. “Innas says you don’t know.” She held the doll out for Radèn to see aos disapproving face, but the boy grinned and patted Innas on aos head.

  “Of course I know. I’m special. I know everything.” He winked at Eiryn as he spoke and she giggled again. “It’s because Amaru-minnai died, Eiryn-dai. I heard your
uncle and my father argue about it last night. My father said we should do this, but your uncle wanted to wait. They noticed I was eavesdropping then, so that’s all I heard.”

  “You don’t know everything,” Eiryn said. Radèn began laughing, but he hugged her too so that was all right.

  “One day I will. Your uncle was very angry with doi when he left. They made it so I couldn’t hear their words, but I can hear a door being slammed just fine.” Radèn looked like he was about to say more, but just then Arèn-minnoi walked through the doorway.

  Her uncle didn’t look angry to Eiryn, though. He just looked tired. And a little grumpy, but that wasn’t the same thing. The rysharoi rumbled some farakaoina Eiryn didn’t really want to pay attention to. Slowly everyone stopped talking among themselves and the rysharoi’s farakaoina faded into silence as everyone turned to look at her. Eiryn tugged at her hair and tried to hide behind Radèn. Since he had his back against the wall, all she managed to do was knock his floppy hat askew.

  Arèn-minnoi beckoned her forward and she got up reluctantly. Eiryn wanted to be away from everyone, away from this place that made her feel like she was standing upside down. But she came over to her uncle since he seemed to want her near him. With her free hand Eiryn tugged on her hair again and she did everything she could to keep from looking up at people.

  “Eiryn Enroi’Arèn,” the rysharoi said, kneeling down and lifting Eiryn’s chin up with a finger so she had to look into his eyes instead of at his feet. She liked his bright red slippers with gold embroidered birds on it more. The man didn’t look like his son at all, but he had the same kind glint in his eyes and he smiled softly.

  Eiryn couldn’t help but smile back even when the rysharoi’s voice was a low boom that made her teeth chatter. “How old are you?” he asked.

  “F-four.”

  Her uncle corrected her and Eiryn held Innas a little tighter. Nothing happened save that the rysharoi said she was too young and she had no idea what she was too young for. No one ever told her anything. So when the rysharoi asked her whether she had any family, she said as haughty and primly as she could manage that she did. “Arèn-minnoi looks after me. And Keilan-minnai and Radèn-minnoi help sometimes.”

  Chuckles ran through the gathered group, but they weren’t mean. Eiryn didn’t think she’d said anything particularly funny, but the adults evidently disagreed. “Why are we here?” she asked, then ducked her head and bolted behind Arèn-minnoi. Everyone else seemed to know.

  The rysharoi stayed kneeling down. Arèn-minnoi nudged her, not entirely gently, back towards Radèn’s father. Eiryn wavered, wishing someone would tell her what was happening. She startled when the rysharoi took her free hand in his. He looked very grave and very serious, and also a little sad. Eiryn wanted to give him a big hug, but she didn’t dare. “We’re here because it’s your birthday. You’re the eldest female of your family, so all your family’s belongings are yours now.”

  Eiryn frowned and looked up at her uncle. Arèn-minnoi added, “It means that anything that isn’t specifically mine is officially yours. But you’re far too young to run a small estate, so I will be taking care of those matters until you come of age.”

  Nothing the men were saying made any sense to Eiryn. “Does that mean the bed’s mine?” she asked. The question sent another ripple of laughter through the crowd and even her uncle smiled at that. If the rysharoi hadn’t been holding her hand and she hadn’t been keeping a tight grip on Innas, Eiryn would have tried to hide again. She didn’t like being the centre of attention. It always made Janyn much worse.

  “No, asafai. The bed’s mine. But the paintings Amaru bought are yours now, and there’s a whole house you’ve never seen before.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re not old enough yet.” Eiryn was never old enough for anything, but this time that was all right. She liked Lir. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to live outside it. Some of the other children told the most terrifying stories and Orryn-minnaoi didn’t seem to like it very much. He made them learn about it, though, and it didn’t sound as scary as the stories suggested. Maybe it could be fun to be outside Lir just once, just to say she’d gone and to have a scary story of her own to tell people. But she’d have to gather up all her bravery before she went because she didn’t want to run home on the first day.

  “I’d like to be older when I go to see it, then,” she said. She tried to make it sound very regal the way Radèn could, but it hurt her throat and it didn’t sound at all like his voice did. No one laughed this time at least, so she tried again. “I’m five today.” Nothing. “I’m five, so now I’m a lady.”

  Baesou-minnoi looked very serious as he rested his palm against hers. “That you are, Eiryn-minnai Enroi’Arèn. Blessed birthday to you.” He smiled a true smile then and it dimpled his face so much Eiryn laughed because he looked even more like a very large Radèn. “I believe my son has something he wants to give you.”

  Indeed, Radèn appeared beside his father with a small box in his outstretched hands. As Eiryn took it from his hands, he said, “Blessed birthday, Ryn.”

  Eiryn didn’t open the box immediately. It was so heavy that she was certain it must have been made out of stone and she was afraid of dropping it. The sides were a pale blue with white veins running through it. There was a seal sunning itself on a rock — she recognised the animal from a drawing Keilan-minnai had shown her once — carved out of the lid, but the sides all had waves and strange, horned fish that Eiryn had never seen before instead. “What are they?” she asked, not sure how to point at the fish with her hands already holding the heavy box.

  “They’re narwhals,” Keilan-minnai answered. “The northern seamen see them sometimes. They’re very rare.”

  “Narwhals are supposed to bring luck,” Radèn added. “Though gaodansaoina say they only do so if you leave them alone. Open it, Ryn.” Eiryn had to put the box down to do so and gasped. “Do you like it?”

  “What is it?” Keilan-minnai and Arèn-minnoi asked at once, then laughed. Eiryn was entranced. On soft, white velvet lay a blue stone that shone like a star. Eiryn took it out carefully and held it up to the light to see the star twist its shape around. “That’s beautiful.”

  “Anou-minnoi told me that you wanted to see star-flowers. They don’t grow here, so I got you this. May I?” The boy held out his hand and Eiryn gave him the gem. Radèn moved until he was seated right behind Eiryn and held the stone up, waving it around in the air as he spoke. “If you hold it something like this…”

  “Oh!” Eiryn cried. At the gem’s heart was something that looked like a six-petalled flower. “Thank you!” She twisted around to hug Radèn and she almost knocked them both over. Arèn-minnoi was quick to grab the gem from the boy’s hand and Radèn laughed as he let himself fall back onto the ground, floppy hat drifting after him, and dragged Eiryn with him. She laughed too.

  “Shall we go, Eiryn-dai?” her uncle asked. “Everyone’s waiting for you to leave.”

  “Why?” Eiryn asked as she helped Radèn put the hat back on his head. He still looked silly.

  “They were just here as witnesses. There’ll be a bigger ceremony of transfer when you’re old enough, but for now it’s just a formal acknowledgement that the Sarrynna lands and deeds fall to you.”

  “Oh.” Eiryn paused and picked up Innas. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s all right,” Keilan-minnai said and straightened Eiryn’s hair. “It’s a big thing for a five-year-old to understand.”

  Radèn leaned towards Eiryn’s ear. He got so close the brim of his silly hat brushed her head. “I don’t understand either,” he whispered then tapped her on her nose so that she giggled. “Let’s go. I’m told there’ll be lots and lots of cake.”

  Before Eiryn could respond the boy was already dashing towards the stairs and she squeaked. Eiryn did start to run after him, but then she remembered the box h
e’d given her and bolted back to pick it up. She couldn’t leave it behind.

  “I’ll carry it,” Arèn-minnoi told her with a smile and waved one hand at the entrance. “Go on. We’ll be along.”

  And so Eiryn bolted after Radèn down the stairs. He hadn’t waited for her, so he had quite a head start on her already. She finally caught up with him at one of the windows. He was staring out of it across the sea. By now Eiryn was quite dizzy and breathless, so she plopped herself down on the steps. After a little while, Radèn joined her, the floppy hat drooping over his knees like a wilted flower. They were still sitting there in silence when Arèn-minnoi arrived and tried to nudge them out of the way with his foot. His hands were too full of box to shoo them that way. Eiryn staggered to her feet and wobbled a little.

  “I don’t want to go on,” she said and hugged her uncle.

  “You have to, asafai. You can’t stay on this step all your life.”

  “Keilan-minnai could sing me down.”

  “She’s already done it twice today, Eiryn.”

  Radèn rose, deftly restoring the hat to his head as he did, and picked Eiryn up. “I’ll carry you for a while.”

  Eiryn squealed as her uncle said, “You spoil her.”

  “It’s her birthday. I’m allowed.” Eiryn couldn’t see Radèn grinning, but that was the tone he used when he was. Arèn-minnoi sighed, but he did tell Radèn to ‘go on then’ and followed behind them. Eiryn couldn’t see where they were going because she was facing her uncle and he didn’t seem very inclined to talk. His lips were moving, but no sound came out.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing, safai.”

  “Your lips are moving.”

  “It’s nothing, Eiryn.” Arèn-minnoi gave her a tired smile. Be careful you don’t twist too much or Radèn-minnoi won’t be able to see.”

  “We’re very careful. Innas says we’re always careful.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  Radèn carried Eiryn almost all the way down. By the time he did tell her she had to walk again because he was too tired to carry her any further, descending the rest of the way didn’t seem so scary anymore. The boy lowered himself on the steps and rested his head between his knees.