Cold Fire by Tamora Pierce Page B

like it-she wasn’t sure that she liked Camoc-but Nia was the one who had to live with the choice. If Camoc or his assistant Arnen had been handsome and charming, she might have forced Nia to meet other teachers. The girl wouldn’t be the first twelve-year-old to fall for a handsome face. When Daja thought of the healer-mage student she’d fallen for two years ago, she felt her cheeks warm. She had mooned over the fellow for months. But Nia didn’t show signs of a sudden infatuation, and Daja had only a feeling that Camoc might be too hard on her. It wasn’t enough.
    She would do better to let time decide. Nia might well change her mind. If that happened, Daja was fairly certain she could get Matazi and Kol to let Nia change teachers. They should know how uncertain anything involved with magic was.
    She took Nia out to Camoc, who introduced her to Arnen. About to go, Daja hesitated. “Nia, how will you get home? Have you money for a guest-sleigh, or-“
    “I’ll skate home. There are always lawkeepers on the canals-I’ll be fine,” Nia insisted.
    “Excuse me, Viymese-” That was Arnen. He spoke as quietly as Nia did.
    Daja looked at him. “What can I do for you?”
    Arnen glanced at Camoc, then pushed his spectacles up on his nose. “It’s about meditation. Most of us started with other mages, and we already know it.”
    “Impossible to meditate here,” Camoc said brusquely. “Too much noise. Can you take that part of it?”
    “It really is noisy,” Arnen told Nia apologetically. She nodded, too shy to speak.
    Daja wanted to object, but suddenly she could hear her grandmother’s voice. “Shirkers are half-kaq,” that fierce old lady told her grandchildren. “Traders take the burden they are given.” She had been given this burden. It wasn’t shirking to find teachers with the twins’ own skills, but if those teachers asked Daja to help, she would be a shirker to refuse. “We’ll meditate at home,” she told the men and Nia. “We’ve already started, anyway.” She did her best to seem happy about it, though her inner self was demanding to know how she was to work on her own projects if she had to nursemaid the twins. She stepped on that self hard. Nia would hear any touch of impatience in Daja’s voice. The minute she did, she would fade away like a ghost, learning nothing properly from anyone. Daja ran her right thumb over her brass glove. “We’ll practice tonight, when we get home,” she told Nia, who nodded.
    When Daja left Camoc’s, she was astounded to see Morrachane Ladradun, elegant in a sable-trimmed coat and hat, in the sleigh with Jory. There was liking and affection in the face that was so harsh when Daja had met her. Jory said something, and the woman actually laughed.
    She must have been pretty once, Daja thought. My mother was right-if you keep making the same nasty face, one day your face will set in that expression.
    “Daja,” Jory said eagerly, waving. “Daja, come meet Aunt Morrachane.” She grimaced and added, “Sorry. Ravvi Morrachane Ladradun. Aunt Morrachane-“
    “I have met Ravvikki Daja,” said Morrachane with a nod. “I understand you have brought the twins wonderful news. You are to be a cook-mage,” she said with a smile, cupping Jory’s cheek in one gloved hand. “Houses will scramble to offer marriages for you and my little Nia. But where is she?” Morrachane asked Daja. “Jory said she was inside with you.”
    Daja ran her fingers over the living metal on her left hand and silently listed the various coins used in Bihan. Normally she disliked the title Viymese. She felt nothing like the acknowledged mage it proclaimed, yet it irked her that Morrachane would not use it.
    Jory was unaware of Daja’s tension and Morrachane’s snub. “She won’t keep us waiting forever, will she?” asked Nia’s twin. “We’ve other boring carpenters to see-“
    “Actually, Nia wants to stay here,” Daja told Jory.
    “She does?” Jory asked, surprised.