As she opened the door, Kay called softly "Hello ?". She didn't want to disturb Master Painter if he was busy.
Although he was in a back room, searching for a misplaced oudrhaki-hair brush, when he sensed someone approaching the door, Tomas went to open it. "Oh, come in, Mestra MacDonald," he said.
A shy smile came in reply. "Thank you kindly, Master Painter", said Kay gratefully, stepping quickly into the shop and pushing back the hood of her cloak. Now it was clear that her large green-brown eyes were rimmed with red, as if she'd been crying or perhaps not sleeping well since he'd seen her the previous morning.
"I'm not disturbing you, am I ? ... I could always ... come back later ... if you're busy that is ... I don't mean to be in your way ...", Kay continued. She fidgeted uncertainly, and tugged nervously at the end of her messy braid (though obviously not for the first time -- there was more hair straggling out of it than there was left in it).
Something was different about Kay, Tomas mused. He looked at her from his artist's eyes and realized her complexion looked different and her hair not as well-kept as usual.
Kay sighed with relief at the warm sympathy in his look, the end of her now-very-messy braid slipping free of her fingers as a smile lit up her face. She had hoped she'd be welcome, but hadn't been entirely certain. Much of her accumulated tension leaked out in a rush, as if a pressure-valve had suddenly sprung open. Never mind that it had been an unsettling evening, and a sometimes-awkward-sometimes-dissapointing morning. Being here was like soothing balm to her raw nerves, like when she was a child in Grand-dad Malcolm's hobbycrafts room.
Still, he couldn't think of a tactful way to ask why she looked so poorly, so instead he said, "Oh, no. I haven't even gotten started yet today. I was just about to go see if yesterday's work is dry." Tomas gestured to several wet partially painted portraits and a landscape against a wall. He usually worked on multiple paintings because he sometimes got distracted enough to start new things before others were finished.
"They can dry THAT quickly ?", she asked eagerly, taking a few small steps in order to get a closer look at each piece. Then I might be able to hang the portrait of great-gran Cassilda on my wall sooner than I thought, won't I ?". Then a pause and a self-concious giggle. "Though, to be entirely honest, it wasn't only impatience that brought me here ... if I wouldn't be in your way, I'd like to just watch you paint for a short while ...". Kay's voice trailed off. Yes, she DID want to see how a painting was made. But she also wanted some peaceful company too.
"That's fine," Tomas said. "I'd welcome the company.
Kay's face lit up with a smile. This was exactly what she needed -- the company of someone who wasn't likely to gossip about her or do anything bizarre, someone who wouldn't think her to be mad when they heard what she thought she'd experienced last night.
"Cassilda..." he mused, looking at the painting. "Oh, yes, she is practically dry. A dream to work with. Sometimes I leave the windows open at night to dry them faster, but then it takes Melora so long to warm the room up that she gets angry."
Practically dry -- that meant the painting was almost ready to be hung on her wall. Great-gran's portrait would made her quarters ever so much more home-like, thought Kay, suddenly wishing she'd had the chance to know her from more than just Gran's stories. "I used to leave my windows partially-open back home ... it lets in the fresh air ... and I could still hear my best friends when they left the barn in the morning", Kay said wistfully, half-wishing that she could call back the past, "The barking of the dogs and glad whinnying of the ponies, the soft calls of the woolies and goats, the clucking of the fowls ---and the clip-clop of so many hoofed feet going past".
Kay sighed, looked thoughtfully up at him, then continued "I've had somewhat of a rough time of it since I last saw its progress yesterday morning ... I must have been a fool to let my brother (and my new sisters) convince me to go to that fancy party ... if I'd minded my mum and da's advice and stayed away from that castle, I wouldn't have ended up with aches in his head, aches in my gut and all the rest ...". She reached up a hand to rub at one of her temples. Everything would be so much simpler if the previous 28 hours could be undone. It was too bad that such a thing wasn't possible
"A comyn ball?" Tomas quirked an eyebrow. "Didn't know what you were getting in for, chiya, did you?"
Being called a child wasn't something Kay particularly cared for. But then she spotted the mischief in Tomas' eyes and realized he was just teasing her. That was different then. "Not at all ... it was like being suddenly thrown among the mad, some of it almost too bizarre to be real", she teased back, with a small ironic laugh.
Tomas laughed. "Well, I'm not surprised they seemed mad... I heard the ball was thrown by the Elhalyns."
Kay frowned and made a sharp sound of disgust. "Now I see why my ma warned me to stay away from the Hali'imyn ... A PROPER party should be fun and relaxing --- not full of armed guards, where people get hurt, and some of them die. It's just not RIGHT !", she declared firmly, not caring that she had used a term Gwenn had told her was considered rude.
Wide green-brown eyes looked pleadingly up at him as Kay then demanded "Is it all just some sort of Zandru-bedamned GAME to them -- that some of the party guests attack each other and the host ? Can't they think of any BETTER uses for their sorcery ?".
Tomas stopped laughing instantly. "Death is never a game," he said. "We have not had real trouble among the Domains for a long time--while I hear Council members have their differences, they have seemed content to rule their own lands and not interfere with others for many, many years, as last I recall.
With a sigh, Kay admitted "I find all of this rather disturbing, mestru Painter. As long all the combatants are willing, then I'll make no public complaint (though I disagree with their choices). But I DO take offense at being drawn unknowing and unwilling into a fight I've not chosen. It makes me think twice about seeking out my blood-kin here".
"Blood kin is often weaker than foster ties," Tomas said softly.
Kay wondered if he was speaking from his own experiences, and hoped he'd say more. But as curious as she was, good manners dictated that she not inquire.
"My mum gave me that same piece of wisdom once", she commented, "she said it's because the universe holds too many fools who see their offspring primarily as tools or as game pieces. And such crimes can often be not easily-forgiven after the child is no longer a child".
"Very true," Tomas sighed. "I fell into that trap once myself and have always regretted it. I know only I have a daughter somewhere that I have no legal ties to. Still, had she been a son, her fate might have been a hundred times worse."
Kay sighed softly, wishing she dared to ask what had happenned to this daughter and how it could have been worse (but afraid that it would be something terrible that she'd later wish NOT to have heard). "It never ceases to amaze me how even the actions of well-intentioned parents can bring troubles down on the heads of their offspring", she said instead.
"Who was it who died, do you know? Not a member of the comyn, surely?" Tomas asked. He'd not seen or heard signs of mourning.
"I didn't see what happenned", she replied, "But there was a large fuss near Dom Elhalyn and guards hurrying everywhere. At least one of them died in the line of duty. I don't know what the man's name was, but he was a friend of my new sister". She paused, unsure how best to explain. Fumbling for suitable wording, she continued "He was chasing some ... stinking foulness ... that wore the form of a man".
"A guard died in the ballroom?" Tomas looked up again, surprised. Shaking her head, Kay replied "As ye are a man of dicretion, I believe I can trust that ye'll nae repeat any of this. So I will tell what little I know of it. He died somewhere else ... after _IT_ left the ballroom, and he went off in pursuit".
She shudderred as if a cold wind had blown through the shop. "News of the death must have been carried by sorcery ... naught else could ha' prompted such sudden grief".
"Of laran fighting?", He was terribly worried now.
This time, Kay simply shrugged. "Of THAT, I canna say for certain". Leaning closer to him, she said very, very softly, "I doubt verra much that I was the intended target. 'Tis more likely that I was simply within the blast radius.".
"When I tried to comfort my sister", she admitted, keeping her voice so low as to be barely audible "what ye call laran, and what my gran called sorcery ...". Kay shudderred again, and wrapped both arms tightly around herself at the memory. "It _BIT_ me, like a spark of Terran electricity ... and then BATTERRED me near-senseless, like a leaf in a windstorm".
"It sounds as if you touched a leroni while they were using laran, which is a dangerous thing. If your family has never taught you that, they have been remiss." Tomas frowned. "One of the reasons telepaths seldom touch is because laran-energy is so volatile and our emotions can be shared... too well."
"The only warnings I've ever had were to stay away from sorcerers on account of they're dangerous company", came the reply. Kay wasn't sure how much it was safe to say. "We've no such things back home -- except in fairy-tales and scary-tales ... and official policy at the Base is that such things do not officially exist ...", she explained, initially only offering part of the truth.
Then another thought occurred to her, "If they can get inside other peoples' heads so easily", she asked, "then how can someone (who's NOT a trained sorcerer) keep them out ? In my Gran's old fairy-tales and scary-tales, it's said that the only way to be safe is not to look them in the eye and not to let them touch you". This was as close as she dared come to what she REALLY wanted to ask.
"I'll not willingly go among THAT crowd again -- not while such madness reigns", Kay said firmly, "I fear that both sorcery and madness might be contagious". A thoughtful look crossed her face as she added "Exposure to such things ha' never brought me aught good". She paused, then frowned, "If I was ever so daft as to want troubles, then I've nae doubt I could be finding them on my own".
Tomas looked troubled. "I've no desire to be in those crowds myself," he said.
"This is no good," he said, "no good at all. The people cannot find out there is trouble in Comyn Castle or there will be even more trouble."
Now THERE was an understatement indeed. Darkover had a rather bloody history, as Kay had heard from her grand-parents' stories. Could it be that such times were coming again ? "But if someone is trying to murder Dom Elhalyn and those close to him, how long can such a secret be kept ? Especially if this was not the first attempt, eventually people will notice".
"Indeed," Tomas sighed. "I am sure Dom Elhalyn is aware of the threat and is doing all that is possible. He has named an heir, I hear, and is going to marry. Perhaps whoever is behind the attempts will decide their are too many people between himself and the throne now."
Kay shrugged "Politics is a dirty game, my friend", she said. Then she added with a grin "All the more reason to steer clear of such things. So I thank you all the more for listening to my small brush with it."
A small beep sounded from Kay's timepiece, reminding her that it was time to return. After making her farewell, she hurried quickly back to the Base. Idly, she wondered if there would be a reply from Melissa or Gwenn waiting for her there.