“Sit in the corner and be quiet,” Gideon told the goblin.
Jurl’s gaze searched the round hut. “No corner.”
Gideon sighed. “Sit out of the way.”
“Hungry,” Jurl said sullenly.
The wise woman said in her soft, high voice, “We can provide food and drink for all of you.”
“What food?” Jurl asked, sounding skeptical.
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re fussy,” Chandra said.
“Thank you,” Gideon said to Falia. “Whatever you offer us will be much appreciated.”
The girl’s gaze traveled over Chandra’s bloodied, smeared appearance, the mud on Gideon’s clothes, and his darkening jaw. “It seems you’ve had a long and difficult journey. After we talk, perhaps you would also like to wash, and then to rest.”
Wash, Chandra thought with longing. Since they were stuck here, rest was obviously a good idea, too, even though she didn’t relish the thought of closing her eyes on this grim and sinister plane.
“Yes, thank you,” Gideon said. “We’re grateful for your hospitality.”
Falia’s gaze went back to Gideon and lingered there. The expression of dawning fascination Chandra saw on her face belied Falia’s girlish appearance. Gideon was a handsome man, beautiful without being pretty, strong without being bulky. His predatory grace was evident in every movement, and his expression was friendly and reassuring as he returned the girl’s unwavering gaze.
But Chandra didn’t see a frightened girl in need of reassurance looking back at him. Falia wore the expression of a woman encountering an attractive stranger in her drab little village where everyone knew everyone else, and where the choice of marriage partners was very limited.
Falia gave a little start, evidently realizing she’d been staring, and said to them, “Please, sit now.” The girl stuck her head outside the door of the hut to give instructions to someone while Gideon and Chandra helped Jurl sit.
“Free hands,” said Jurl.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Chandra.
“He can’t help it,” said Gideon. “He’s a goblin.”
The two of them sat down side by side on the woven mats that covered the earthen floor.
Falia re-entered the hut and sat down facing them. Despite her frail appearance and sickly pallor, she was a pretty girl, with a delicate, ethereal quality. Her dark, hollow eyes seemed too sad and haunted for someone so young, but they gave her a world-weary hint of tragic beauty and inner wisdom.
Looking at her now, Chandra thought it seemed a bit less strange that this girl was the village wise woman.
Gideon said, “Please believe that I mean no insult or disrespect when I say that you seem very young to be a wise woman.”
Falia looked puzzled. “I do?”
Gideon asked, “How is the wise woman-I mean men-arch chosen here?”
“It’s the calling of my family,” she said. “When I showed first blood, my mother knew that I was ready. Someday I will marry and bear children. My daughter will one day assume this duty.”
“That seems like a pretty short time in which to gain wisdom,” Chandra said.
Gideon glanced at her, but didn’t tell her to be quiet. So apparently he had a little wisdom, too.
“My wisdom was passed to me by my mother. Her wisdom is mine. She was given hers by her mother, and so it has been for generations within us.”
“How do you pass it?” Chandra asked.
“We share our blood in the ritual passing of our power,” the girl said pleasantly.
Chandra decided she didn’t want details. This wasn’t what they had come here to talk about.
“Ah, here is your meal,” Falia said.
A woman entered the hut, carrying a large pot. A boy followed behind her, carrying wooden bowls and spoons. The woman smiled kindly at Gideon and Chandra as she set the pot down in front of them. Falia ladled soup into the two bowls the boy had brought, then handed the bowls to Chandra and Gideon.
The boy, who also placed his wares in front of them, paused to gape with wide-eyed curiosity until Falia put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Please give the goblin food. We must show him our appreciation.” The boy picked up the pot, and carried it over to Jurl. He set it down in front of him, turned away, and left the hut.
With his hands still bound behind his back, Jurl wiggled around into a kneeling position, then stuck his whole head into the pot and started slurping noisily.
Chandra looked down into her bowl. It contained a translucent, pale gray broth with lumpy, white things floating in it. It didn’t look remotely appetizing, not even to someone as hungry as she was.
“How nice,” Chandra said politely, trying not to let her face contort when she took a whiff. The stuff smelled ghastly. “What is this dish?”
“Grub soup,” said Falia.
Chandra focused on keeping her expression courteous. “Ah.”
No wonder everyone here was so thin! Who would ever eat more than they absolutely had to, if this was a typical local dish? She suddenly missed Regatha.
“It looks delicious,” Gideon said in an admirably sincere tone. “Thank you.”
“You’re our guests, and guests are a gift from the gods!” Falia said with a bright smile as she rose to her feet. “That silly boy forgot to bring water for you. I’ll go get it.”
As soon as the girl disappeared through the doorway, Chandra said quietly, “I don’t think I can eat this.”
“It may be all we’ll get for some time,” Gideon said, looking into his bowl without enthusiasm. “And when was the last time you ate?”
“I can’t even remember,” she said. “But suddenly I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”
“Listen, it’s meat. More or less.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. “It’ll give you strength.”
“I don’t suppose many things grow in a land of constant darkness,” she said, noting the absence of vegetables in the soup. Chandra filled her spoon with the broth, which was much more viscous than she had anticipated, and lifted it to take a sip. The closer she brought it to her lips, the harder it was was. She dropped the spoonful back into her bowl, untasted.
“Eat. We have been given this food. We can’t refuse it,” Gideon said, also lifting a spoonful of soup from his bowl.
Chandra reflected irritably that Jurl’s noisy slurping wasn’t making the soup seem any less disgusting, either. She said loudly, “I think I’d have preferred roasted goblin.”