Chasing Sparks

Chapter 7.3

The room was smokey and the burning smell very intense. The fire was just embers but something was smoldering or maybe cooking away on top. Marsh couldn’t make out what it was, but probably best not to know, he thought.

Without turning to face him, Jira’s croaky old voice said, “Tell your Sneak to wait outside.”

Marsh nodded, and the door opened and closed again quietly behind him.

“That’s better.” Jira said. “I hate Sneaks. Now come sit with me.”

Marsh obliged, seating himself on the long chair next to the stool where Jira sat, her pure white eyes gazing into the fire. She was blind in the conventional sense but somehow managed to see things and know quite a lot about what was going on around her.

“I heard you pay my daughter the usual fee. But I require an extra fee today,” Jira said, opening the conversation.

Marsh frowned slightly. “I think a gold piece is more than sufficient.”

“Well, today it isn’t,” Jira said matter of factly, a slight hint of anger creeping into her voice.

Marsh in one of his smoother tones, asked, “So what is this extra fee you ask?”

Jira turned her head towards him with her milky white eyes seemingly gazing right through him. “I am dying,” she said with a smile. “In fact, I will be dead this time tomorrow,” still smiling.

“I’m sorry,” said Marsh, wondering what it would be like to know the exact time of your death.

Ignoring Marsh’s attempt at sympathy, Jira continued, “So this is the last time you will see me.”

Marsh was about to offer another platitude but Jira carried on saying, “But my gift won’t die with me. It will live on.”

“Gift,” Jira repeated to herself, laughing softly at her own words. “Curse more like. But, gift or curse, it is a living thing that will pass to my daughter.”

“She knows this. I have told her many times,” Jira explained, “But she is doing her best to ignore the reality. When I die, the gift will enter her body. She will be completely blind within a week. Her complete lack of preparation for this, means she will die shortly afterwards. That is, unless I can find someone to care for her the way she cares for me.”

Turning to face Marsh, she said, “The extra fee I ask, is simply that by nightfall tomorrow you send someone here to live and care for my daughter.”

Marsh thought for a moment. “Finding someone to live here may be difficult.” 

That was somewhat understating the problem. No-one in their right mind would live anywhere near this place.

“I can move her in with some people in the city,” Marsh suggested.

Jira cackled a long loud laugh. “Do you think I live here by choice?” she said, still laughing, “The gift is linked to this place, you fool.”

Marsh didn’t appreciate being called a fool, but Jira was Jira, so he let it go. He also found it hard to believe that anything could be linked to this place unless it was faeces and filth.

Jira stopped laughing and turned back to face Marsh again, her sightless eyes peering right at him. “Today’s fee is for you to find someone to live here and care for my daughter.”

Marsh sat and thought in silence for a moment. “I accept your terms,” he said, “But I guess you knew that already.”

“Of course,” smiled Jira. “But I still had to ask.”