Demon Daughter by Lois McMaster Bujold

Author:Lois McMaster Bujold [Bujold, Lois McMaster]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spectrum Literary Agency
Published: 2024-01-06T21:00:00+00:00

The next day was laundry, a twice-a-month production for which Nikys conscripted the whole household—even Penric, on rainy or cold days when drying strung across the atrium would otherwise take forever. Des also had some tricks for stains. Given that the Order devoted to a god of chaos and mischance had chosen white for the emblematic color of its divines’ vestments, Nikys thought it only fair. Daxi also earned his keep, hauling bucket after bucket from the communal well behind the row of houses, and keeping the fire going under the kitchen stove for the big water kettles.

Otta, not quite so unacquainted with this task as with cooking, trailed after Rina, who was happy to demonstrate and instruct in her share of the chore. And gratified to acquire a willing minion, Nikys suspected. At length, the wash lines all were up and loaded under the bright afternoon sunshine falling into the atrium, and Nikys freed the girls to get back to their chalking.

A little later, passing through after taking an armload of some quicker drying garments upstairs to put away, Nikys paused to watch the two young heads bent over their growing sprawl of scrawl. Rina had drawn a large flower, each petal consisting of her whole name, Florina, enclosed in a pink outline, the scheme repeated in the green chalk leaves. Otta had contented herself with simpler practice, her name printed in a column, OTTA OTTA OTTA, though each in a different color. The column beside it read ATTO ATTO ATTO.

“She’s getting it backwards,” Nikys observed. “Unless she’s thinking about turnip stamps.”

“No,” said Rina, “that’s what we named her demon. Because Papa says demons should always be given names by their sorcerers. He said Otta’s would grow more like a mirror to her, instead of all those dead women like Des, so I thought her name should be a mirror, too. …It will be a she-demon, right?”

“Uh… yes, probably.” Had Penric mentioned what would happen when they brought the girl before the Saint of Pef? Nikys had a sudden horrid memory of the conflict that had ensued after Rina had been allowed to name some of Penric’s experimental rats. So much howling and outrage…

Otta looked up from her chalking, following who-knew-how-much of this conversation. Suddenly her face broke into a huge smile. She started to say something, but then her expression crumpled into woe, and she burst into tears.

“Rina, run upstairs and fetch your papa,” said Nikys, alarmed for all the flammable cloth hung around them. And also for the weeping child. “Tell him to hurry.”

Managing any exchange of words was hard enough when Otta was calm. Nikys knelt, opening her arms to offer what physical comfort might be accepted, but Otta only shook her head and hunched away.

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