The Fortune Tellers

At least she could make good bread.

Marya made herself useful to the family that saved her and her brother. It took many days and thousands of questions to reach their village well away from the border, and the little house they called home. It did not take long to have then help her set up an oven, and she quickly gained a reputation as the best village baker.

And they helped with her brother. As far as she knew, her brother didn't have a name - her parents had called him "the idiot boy" her whole life. Davide insisted on fixing that, and "Micha" seemed to fit.

Davide was amazing with Micha. He noticed that Micha would grunt when he was annoyed, whine when he was upset, and would now make a humming noise when he was happy. He was learning a few simple signs, and just the fact that they were figuring out ways to communicate with Micha was exciting - and saddening. "I didn't think to do this when we were kids, and I didn't have time when I got him out," she confessed miserably.

Davide shook his head. "You had no support, or time. You were doing what you could to survive. When did you have any time to watch him, or think to play with him? I had a dog and an older brother, and watching them talk to each other, I figured out what the sounds meant. We talked with our hands, since his mouth didn't work. I had time to learn their language. So I'm doing the same with your brother. If it works, why fuss?"

Micha hummed, and gently reached out and patted her cheek. She smiled, and Davide nodded. "See, he doesn't hold it against you. You probably saved his life keeping him out of the Dogs. That's... you know that's not right, yes?"

She sighed, nodded. "I don't get it. All the politz jump on anything that even whiffs of fortune telling, but any other crime? They don't really care. You'd have to kill someone on the steps to their barracks to get them to notice. They killed all the schoolteachers years ago, and closed the schools. If you seem to be doing a bit better than your neighbor, your name will be turned in. They patrol the streets like they're saving the people, but the people just get poorer and sicker. The land keeps drying up. They took your brother and tried to kill you. You're both strangers and younger than the drought! What are they thinking?"

"They aren't, child." Davide's father, Ivo, came to join them. "Being married to one, and siring another, I can tell you from inside experience that fortune telling isn't evil. But someone is blaming all the kingdom's ills on them, and ignoring the very real problems. That's not ruling, that's controlling through fear. Something is very wrong, and it's near the top of the pile."

"So, the king himself? Or his Council?"

"That's my guess. But I can tell you, I'm not going back. And I've sent out messages to all the other travelers to stay out. We didn't know about the Dogs. That's evil, that is. Time to let this kingdom fall, and if no food's coming in, then the rats at the top can die and let someone more sane take over."

Marya thought about her neighbors, just trying to survive like she did. "The poor will die first."

"Yes, and that's hard. They should get out, if they can. You didn't see, but I did - that thunderstorm that took out your town just boiled up out of nowhere. And didn't move. Just stayed, and pounded the town into the ground. That's not how storms work. I'd say the town was getting its just desserts, killing innocent folk all these years and letting the evil ones walk the streets."

Or maybe the presence of a fortune teller really did kill the town, Marya thought, but didn't say out loud. What she did say, is "Ah, I have to get back to work. Your town is in love with my bread, and I'm certain I've caught people from other villages stocking up and taking it home!" She set off to the snug shed where her bowls sat, patiently waiting for her to punch them down. Micha shuffled after, to stoke the oven. He could do simple tasks now, and didn't shy away from the flames.

Ivo shook her head. "Davide, does she know?"

"No, Father. I don't want to be the one to tell her, and I don't think she wants to know herself. Time will tell. Or not."

So philosophical, for one so young.

*******************

She woke up cranky, and Micha wasn't helping any. He'd been thrashing and grunting in his sleep, and his twitches would turn into kicks often and repeatedly. He hadn't hurt her in a long time, but she'd now have some shin bruises from tonight. Moving her pallet was no help. He'd just wake up enough to move his too, and it would start all over again.

And Davide couldn't help either. He tried to distract Micha with toys or simple hand games, and nothing was working right. All Micha wanted to do is be as close to Marya as possible, which doesn't work in a small bakery.

She tried having him sit on the threshold, within sight - didn't work. She'd turn around from the mixing bowl and run into him. How does someone that large sneak so well? She'd sit him on a stool, and he'd still constantly slide off and she'd bang into him again. Her temper was fraying, and she still had work to do, and she was getting woefully behind.

Pushing him outside and closing the door - and locking it after he just opened it and came right back in - only provoked more whining and pounding on the door.

She was busy punching and kneading dough balls, so she didn't notice the sky darkening, and thunder rumbling in the distance.

Davide did. He suddenly stopped trying to soothe Micha and went sprinting for his mother.

Micha didn't stop pounding on the door, Marya's head was about to explode-

The wind and lightning hit about the same time, and the crack of thunder seemed to hit somewhere right above them.

Micha went from pounding on the door to shoving on it, trying to break it down.

Davide came galloping back with both parents just as the rain began sheeting down. Ivo protectively carried a strangely-shaped case, and he ducked into the roofed porch where Marya usually sold her bread. He popped it open and brought out a violin, and quickly started to play. He didn't even tune it, he was in such a hurry. He still kept his back to the wind and rain, though the roof helped a bit to keep the instrument dry.

The effect was magical. Micha stopped banging on the door, but didn't move. He slid down to the threshold and whimpered occasionally, but it was interspersed with humming, so it was hard to gauge his mood. Ivo kept playing.

Fenna and Davide finally got Micha to move just enough for Fenna to tap on the door and ask to be let inside. The door was unlocked, and Fenna slipped in and gently closed it behind her. Micha didn't notice, staring at the instrument making noise in Ivo's hands.

Thunder rumbled, but in the distance. Rain fell, but the wind died down.

Fenna looked around to a disaster. No bowls were broken, but the dough was obviously not cooperating. It lay in gobs and drips and bubbling piles. Marya was sobbing and literally pulling out her hair over the mess. So Fenna stepped forward and swept Marya up in a huge hug, and didn't let go.

Marya was not one to cry silently. She didn't howl, but she cried hard into Fenna's shoulder, eyes squeezed tight against the mess. Fenna just held her, telling her over and over they'd fix it, they'd make it right, it will be all right, it will just take some time.

Fenna could barely make words out: "But - customers - dinner - "

"Ah, child, we have a bit of time. We'll build up the fire, and I will show you how to make porridge bread. And that storm you whistled up will keep people away for a little bit, and they might even have messes of their own to clean before getting here, with that wind."

That stopped Marya's sobs. "I - what?"

"Oh, sweetheart, did you truly not know, all this time? Then I have been a bad person to not tell you. You have the gift too, a very strong one. The storm that damaged your town when you fled, was from the combined gift of you and Davide. When you caught his eye? The stress caused the storm. Whenever I read the runes, there is rain. Not much, some. When Davide reads the tea leaves, there is more rain. When you have a bad day-" she shrugged, and gestured.

Marya's mind could work fast when she had to think hard. "Then, the politz are right. We're evil because we bring destruction."

"No, child! Never! No, the freak thunderstorms only happen when the gift is misused, or the gift goes out of control. Davide tells me Micha has been bothering you all day? Not letting you alone, getting in the way?"

"Yes, and kicking me all night! I could not sleep, and when I moved my pallet, he'd move his next to mine over and over!"

"Hmm." Fenna thought deeply. "Child, our Tomas was ever so. He would wake us up with his kicking and whining, and we knew something bad would happen that day. And it would, somehow. I do not think the special ones bring the bad luck, I think they dimly see it coming, and of all things the special ones do not like change. They show their distress the only way they know how, we just need to know how to read and interpret it, like the runes. This dough - it doesn't look right. Is something wrong with it?"

Marya looked around, gaze narrowed in thought. She got up and pinched off a bit, sniffed it - and gagged. "Ugh, this is terrible," she gargled.

"Hmm, something got into the mix, you think?" Marya nodded. "Then we destroy this batch. Hunh, we'll get the boys to build a fire so we can bake it in balls that don't hurt anyone, then dump it in the midden. And you and I will scrub these bowls to get rid of any traces, so the new starter batches will be good. And porridge bread doesn't need the time to rise."

As the rain faded, they all set about sorting things to rights. Ivo kept playing and Micha gained enough of his normal calm back to help build the fire outdoors. They toasted balls on sticks, and he didn't even try to eat one. He seemed to take great pleasure in dumping them in the midden.

Another fire was then built in the oven, and enough porridge bread was made to serve the townspeople who regularly bought from her for dinner. Micha was humming by the time people came to purchase their loaves, and accepted her explanation of kitchen disaster with equanimity. Some even nodded wisely. "Happens to the best of us," they nodded sagely. "Good for you not feeding us bad bread, and coming up with a good substitute."

Platitudes? Maybe. But Marya accepted them with ill-concealed relief. She needed some good news after a horrible day.

Fenna studied her at dinner, and after. Marya's bread was always the centerpiece of the meal, though they would add in vegetables or fruit depending on the season - and eggs when their few chickens were laying, and a chicken if they had extra. Micha had already gobbled up two loaves and was snoring upstairs. "Child, I don't understand. You have a double batch of the gift, more than both Davide and me combined. You should have been plucked up by the politz years ago. Why were you not targeted? How did you escape their notice?"

Davide gulped his tea, swirled the cup, gulped again. Stared at the cup in the fading light. Then pointed upstairs.

Ivo's eyebrows went up. "Micha? How?"

"Whatever it is, it is most likely why I wasn't targeted till Tomas was taken. Maybe they give us protection?"

"That...is an interesting thought. Micha was reacting before the bread went bad, like he knew something was going to happen. But not having the words to tell her, he reacts by being smothering? Marya, Davide told me what happened when you went to rescue Micha after escaping the politz. He was gripping you so tightly. I wonder why? What was he reacting to? Your fear, or something else?"

"That's probably why the politz confiscate the special ones to turn into Dogs. Treat them badly, cover their eyes, they instinctively aim for the people who could help. Who, of course, have the gift. That's diabolical and cruel."

"Small wonder there's no rain. You kill off the rain-bringers, what do you expect?"

"Or torture them, and it brings rain in their death."

Marya's eyes were huge. "We...bring rain?"

"Child, I think that's the first time you admitted being one."

"I don't want to be. When I was little, mother would have to drag me out onto the streets screaming. When my brother was around, I felt safe. But then they made plans to sell us, and I knew I had to run away with him. I knew separating us would kill us both."

"Likely. But you were away from your brother most of the day when you worked. You were on the street, coming and going. You were not trained. What were you doing?"

Marya shrank into herself. "I wished on the bread," she whispered. "Pushed the gift into the bread, wishing health and life to the ones eating it. Then everyone had a tiny bit, and it was good bread, and the Dogs wouldn't find me, or anyone. I wished a lot."

They were stunned. Fenna tapped the table, then stood up. She reached into a cupboard, pulled out a thing wrapped in a cloth, set it in the middle. Then she reached into her pocket, and set something aside of it.

The first was a large loaf of bread, the second was one of the bread balls that should have gone in the midden.

She tapped the loaf, and there was a hollow thunk. She slammed the dough ball on the table, and it thumped solidly. "This is the bread you brought with you when you fled the town. You carried it through the pouring rain, and you said people were trying to pinch pieces off for themselves. It should have been mush or moldy ages ago. And yet it's still here, and looks like it's only a few days old. I put it in our stores while you slept in the wagon, and forgot about it. We had other food, anyway. I found it when we arrived, put it away, and promptly forgot about it again. And we know the bread balls are bad for some reason. Break the bread ball open - what do you see?"

Marya hesitantly reached for the blackened dough. In her hands, it broke in half, though they had watched Fenna try to crack it with no success. Her nose wrinkled at some smell the others could not see. "It stinks."

"What does it smell like?"

She sniffed again, frowning. "Ugh. Of frustration, anger. "

"Hunh." Fenna sat back, and so did Ivo. "So it seems you bake your intentions into the bread? And if you lose concentration, you bake the emotions you're feeling into the batch? Does that sound right?"

Marya smiled and reached for the loaf she'd made so long ago. In her hands, the bread broke properly at the wedge lines she's so carefully pressed into it. She sniffed happily. "Satisfaction, pride in my work, strength for the tasks I need to do, keeping me healthy."

Davide's jaw dropped. A fresh bread smell wafted through the room. He had a thought, shoved a leftover piece of the porridge bread at her.

She sniffed it, took a bite. Chewed thoughtfully. "Determination to make tomorrow a better day, relief that people aren't mad, glad that the bad part of the day is over."

Davide took a bit of another leftover piece, handed the rest to her as he chewed. Marya stared at it. "Worried about me and Micha, scared for what I can do but fascinated all the same, curious about the future, planning on how to get Micha to help next time."

Ivo and Fenna's jaws now dropped. Fenna took a bite of another piece of the porridge bread, handed it over. "Ew, no! I don't like him that way!"

Ivo and Davide stared at Fenna, and she blushed. "Are you matchmaking again? Fenna, the runes and tea leaves are clear. Stop it."

Davide glared. "She is my adopted older sister. And the tea leaves know my mate is out there somewhere, not here yet. Maybe not even born yet. And I'm still a bit young for that, yes?"

Fenna muttered something into her mug.

Ivo chuckled. "Well, they have you there, and now we have many questions answered. Marya trained herself through fear, and it worked well. And now we know why we were given a special one, and lost him, and gained another. Fenna, who was yours?"

She blinked with memory. "Ai. A neighbor's child, up the road a bit. No one wanted to play with him, he looked so sad sitting there. Like a lost puppy. I would sit and talk to him, near him. We made our own games, I sang songs. Two of the pebbles in my rune stones, he gave to me as gifts. When he died young, I carved the love symbol on one, and friendship on the other. I miss him, and when Tomas was born, it was like I was given a second chance. To lose him... Micha's presence helps, a bit, but oh I miss them both."

Marya was staring at the broken bread ball, listening, letting the pain wash over her. She didn't know she was crying, but she reached out for one of the pieces. She rubbed it like she was kneading it all over again, and it changed shape. When she finished, she handed it to Fenna.

I was hard, like a pebble. On it was the rune for "destruction."

Fenna shook her head, smiling sadly through the tears. "Child, you have an amazing talent." She tucked it carefully into her rune pouch.

Late that night, Ivo took some pigeons from the cote. He'd already written the messages, so he tied them carefully to little legs in the candle light, then set them in a protected cage nearby. Tomorrow he would set them free at first light.

********************

Marya was surprised when Ivo told her to make a triple or quadruple batch for the morrow, and gave her the flour to do so. She didn't have that many extra bowls, but she could make do with what she had, and her gift. She hoped.

She wasn't terribly surprised when a full unit of army boys came marching into town. So young! She noticed the armor wasn't shiny and parade-ready, but strong and serviceable. And carts with lots and lots of water.

So they were going to do something across the border.

The leader stopped in front of their house, and he hopped off his horse. Greeted Ivo warmly in a huge bear hug. "Brother! So good to see you well!"

"Aye, and you! And please to keep it that way!"

"Ah, we have units coming forward at every border crossing. All the neighboring kingdoms, in fact. We all march to take out those in power. Their madness has gone on too long. Someone will be left in charge, but they will have their work cut out for them. Decades of drought leaves more than a mark. Ah, Davide, there you are! Nephew, it is good to see you. Fenna, I am so sorry about Tomas. Had I known, I would have never sent you to spy for us. I had no idea. Please forgive me."

Fenna shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Make it right by getting rid of the politz and everyone supporting them. You know there's no army. They've only lasted because no one wanted such an obviously cursed land."

"Indeed. And now that we know why and how, it has to end. Too many people dying for no reason." He spotted Marya peeping from the bakery. "And you, my dear, are the reason we now know what to do. Thank you, for your courage. We will do what we can, to save as many as possible. I do not know what to do with the Dogs, but we will try something."

Fenna fished out a rune. "Hard striving. Well, that sounds a bit hopeful."

Davide gulped his tea and stared at the cup. "Success through much work. Come back to us Uncle, please."

"I foresee many messages between us, to help me figure out how to best help. But for now, we need sustaining bread. Marya, may we buy your many loaves? Enough to get us through?"

Marya slid her gaze to Ivo, who tried to look innocent. "Someone has been talking about me?"

"Only what's important. We have a pigeon cote, but we do not eat them. I am eyes and ears for my brother, the Commander General here."

Marya shook her head, and went to gather loaves in cloth wraps to distribute to the soldiers. Micha helped, surprisingly. She wondered how much he knew about what was going on.

He held the impromptu bag while she handed bread out to each and every young man there. They looked much the same, very young and fresh-faced and oh, so young. She tried to look at each face, to remember.

One face caught her attention.

How was he different? She did not know. But those eyes! He seemed just as stunned, and they stood, staring at each other over a loaf of bread.

Ivo and Fenna and Davide, they noticed too. Ivo's brother's eyebrows reached his hairline, looking so much like Ivo for a moment.

"Wait." Marya let go of the loaf, and ran for the bakery. When she ran back, she held a muffin in her hands. She stopped in front of the boy, held it, stared at it for a minute. Stared hard. Clouds had already covered the sky, but now they darkened like rain would soon fall.

She handed her little treasure to the boy. "Keep that in your pack. Come back to me, please. I wish you success, and health, and - please come back. To me."

He smiled, and tucked it into the pack he had set down.

Micha had continued to wander around, letting everyone take a loaf for themselves. Most broke off a bit to eat right away, with fresh water right from Ivo's well. Did their eyes seem brighter? Their movements quicker? They enjoyed their rest while Ivo and his brother talked with Fenna, and all too soon they were collecting their gear to march down the road.

Marya stared after them, far longer than they could still be seen. Rain began to fall gently.

Fenna finally chuckled and put her arm around Marya, gently steered her toward the bakery. "Let's get the rest of the bread ready for tonight's villagers," she urged, "while I talk to you about - things. Women things. And - things. Yes, things."

Davide made a face, and Ivo chuckled. "Keep it up, and I'll talk to you about man things," he warned, but with laughter in his voice. Davide made a rude noise and ran away.

But Micha took his pallet out of Marya's room that night, and put it in Davide's room. Where Tomas' used to be.

Part 1: https://vocal.media/fiction/the-fortune-tellers

Part 2: https://vocal.media/fiction/the-fortune-tellers-li6a0x4u