The Pain of Glass by Tanith Lee

Author:Tanith Lee [Lee, Tanith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mythic Delirium Books
Published: 2011-11-12T20:40:30+00:00

“Of women’s sweet skin and garments and young clean hair . . . so then we are all afeared, but Tesh rants on, so on we make. Then when he comes to blow the piece, soft light shines up above the brazier. Like green iron, or the rose-red that comes from glue-of-gold. But Tesh blows on, and then the vessel comes from the fire and is finished and firmed with a speed not very usual.”

“What had been made?” demanded Jandur.

“One slender goblet with a flower-like drinking-bowl.”

“And then?”

“Master touches it,” put in one of the other men. “And his face goes rapt, as if he saw the gods. And then white. And then he staggers out to his house.”

Jandur collected his wits. “Where is the goblet?”

“He took it with him.”

When Jandur pelted back in at the house door, he halted as if he struck a buffer of some sort.

For there sat his sister, with Tesh adoringly leaning on her, and the dog with its head on Tesh’s knee. And Jandur’s sister sang in a light and lovely voice, an evening song. And in her hand Jandur beheld a glass drinking cup, no longer than a woman’s hand, and full of mutable colours, as the stone-rubber had said. But just then the servant girl came in, and singing, Jandur’s sister handed her the cup.

In consternation and excitement, Jandur watched the girl, to see what her reaction to the goblet might be.

For a moment she only stood quite still, and gazed at it. She was not more than thirteen years, and next she turned away, rather as a child would who has found out a secret. Jandur though saw she smiled, and her face blushed like one of the tints in the glass.

Jandur went to her and softly said, “What is it you feel?”

“Oh,” said the girl, without either shyness or boldness, “only that one day I shall be in love.”

“You must give me the cup,” said Jandur. “It is mine.”

Without any hesitation the girl did so, but the smile did not leave her, just as Tesh was yet affectionate, and his wife yet sang to him.

When Jandur took the cup he braced himself, thinking all manner of insanities or ecstasies might overwhelm him, and that despite them he must not let it fall and break. But all he felt was a speechless fear, the very same which had already visited him on the goblet’s account.

He walked out into the little garden of the house. The moon was rising over the wall, where a mulberry tree grew, its leaves tarnished by exhalations of the makery. Jandur raised the glass, and the moon shone through it, grey and silent, telling nothing.

What shall I do with you? Jandur thought. You may work miracles or do much harm. I will take you with me because it seems I must, and in the first city I will sell you, if such is possible. If I am wrong in that, forgive me, spirit of sand and glass. I have no other notion what is to be done.

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