Note: For the purposes of this story, I'd like to mention that, while Nori is stated as being 18 years old, he is the equivalent of nine years old in human terms.
Almar buried her face in the crook of her arm, fighting off a violent sneeze, then she groaned and pulled open the door to her farmhouse. She hadn't intended on cutting her workday short, but after the fifth time her sneezing had sent the goats into a frenzy, she had decided it might be best to leave the herding to the farmhands and give herself a chance to recover from whatever ailment had come over her this time.
All she really wanted now was a bowl of hot broth and a few minutes with her feet propped up before a fire; but when she reached the kitchen, the hearth was cold and the stock-pot was empty. She squeezed the bridge of her nose and shook her head, then opened her mouth to call out for her nephew. But her voice came out in barely a squeak before she was overcome by a fit of coughing. When it finally passed she groaned again, then she stalked out the kitchen door and into the hall.
If Nori was anywhere, he would probably be in his room - sleeping, as usual. Why Almar had ever agreed to take in her sister, Jes's son was beyond her, as the boy seemed to have no more work-ethic than his father, Nisti, did before he died. Almar felt that it might have been better, after all, if she'd have just told her sister that she did not have room for him. She hadn't even considered doing it at the time, though; and she would not turn him away now, no matter how much trouble the boy was being.
Truthfully, though, the 18-year-old hadn't actually been much trouble, except by what he had not done. When he had gotten to the farm five months before, he had been in the midst of his mourning; and so his aunt had asked very little of him. Over time, his chores had been increased somewhat, though never to the point where they would be overwhelming. It was Nori's job to keep the fires going, to keep the soup pot full, to keep the floors swept and the dishes cleaned - and that was all. But even those simple tasks seemed to be too much for him, and more and more, they were going undone.
She stepped up to Nori's door and straightened herself up, flattening her beard with her palm; then she stifled another sneeze before pushing the door open hard enough so it swung back and hit the wall.
Nori looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, then quickly slid something behind his back. "Aunt Almar!"
Almar furrowed her brow and bounded inside. "What have you there, boy?" she demanded.
"Nothing!"
She tightened her jaw. The guilt in Nori's eyes was quite familiar to her, as Nisti had always looked off to the side the same way when he'd been caught stealing - it was bad enough that Jes had allowed that of her husband, but Almar was determined that Nori would not fall into that way of life while he was living under her roof.
"Give it to me," she said, holding her hand out.
Nori shook his head slightly. "I don't have nothing..."
The old Dwarf reached behind Nori, and though the boy shifted away, she managed to get hold of the object he was gripping; but as she did, she felt a slice across her palm and pulled her hand back. Blood seeped out of the shallow cut and she curled her hand into a fist and scowled at her nephew.
"Give it to me, Nori!" She held her other hand out. "Now!"
The boy lowered his face as he slid a long, stag-handled knife out from behind his back. Almar's eyes widened and her stomach began to ache, then she reached out and grabbed the knife, gripping the handle tightly.
"You would steal from me?" she asked, shaking the weapon at him; then she saw him jerk back and lowered the blade to her side. "It is not enough that I give you food and a place to sleep, you would take things out of my room?"
"I wasn't going to keep it," said Nori almost sheepishly. "I was just curious about it... I was going to put it back after I was done."
"You've no right to be curious about my belongings," she snapped. "And what were you doing with it that you need to get done with?"
Nori shrugged and opened his mouth as if to answer, then he seemed to think better of it and let his shoulders slump. "Nothing. I just thought it was interesting to look at."
Almar felt the blood beginning to seep past her curled fingers and looked down at her injured hand. "Well, you've seen it," she said, pressing her bloody palm to her trouser leg. "And I hope it was worth it, because starting tomorrow you'll be learning to scrape hooves in addition to your household chores," she told him. "And if you shirk your duties or I catch you stealing again, you'll be sleeping in the goat pens. Am I understood?"
The younger Dwarf nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said just barely aloud.
The look on his face was one of ultimate defeat, and Almar softened her own tone and stare with the realization that she had gotten her point across. "And you'll start now, by getting the kitchen fire going," she said. "I'm a bit ill and she could use some broth."
"Yes, ma'am," Nori repeated, rising to his feet. He kept his head low as he stepped past his aunt, but as he got to the door, he halted. "Did he die?" he asked without looking back.
Almar's breath caught in her throat and she coughed. "Did who die?"
"The Man you cut. Did you kill him?"
He then headed into the hallway without waiting for an answer, and Almar rushed after him. A few steps on, she reached out with her hurt hand and grabbed the boy by the shoulder, pulling him to a stop.
"How do you..." She lifted her hand, then stared for a moment at the bloody print she had left on his shirt. "What are you talking about?"
Nori shrugged again, then continued making his way to the kitchen with his aunt close behind. There, Almar paused in the doorway, watching as he walked immediately to the fireplace and swung the pothook out, then opened the ash dump door.
"I want to know what you were talking about, Nori," she said, stepping up behind him. She held the knife out to the side, where he could see it as he stooped with the hearth shovel and began shoving the ashes into the pit. "Did somebody tell you something about this?"
"Nobody told me nothing," he said without looking up. "I only seen it, myself."
"And what, exactly, did you see?"
"I seen you cut someone with it."
She shook her head hard. "I never..."
"He had a blue hat, right?" Nori interrupted. He shut the ash dump door and set the shovel back into its stand. "And this kind of cockeyed mouth with none too many teeth?"
Almar nearly dropped the knife. There was no way the boy would known any of that if he hadn't been told. He hadn't even been born until many years later; and even so, nobody would have told him such a thing - not even his father, as disreputable as he had been. She tightened her grip on the handle of the knife and walked over to the table, then thrust the tip of the blade into the wood before flopping down into a chair. She sneezed again, then reached up without thinking and wiped her face with her bloody hand.
Nori looked back at her, then grabbed a washrag off the mantle and stepped over to the water bucket by the door. He wet it and walked to his aunt's side.
"I want to know how you know about that Man," she said as he handed her the rag.
Nori walked back to the fireplace and grabbed a few split logs off the firewood rack, then stacked them neatly on the andiron. "You seen him, an' I seen him like you did," he said. "An' you cut him right across the face."
Almar heard her heart began to thrum in her ears. Whatever it was that the boy thought he knew, he was frightening her with this talk - but she could not long keep herself quiet.
"You aren't making any sense," she said, wiping her face clean with the rag, then holding it tightly in her sliced palm.
"It don't make sense, no," said Nori. "But it's there, an' that's what I seen."
The old Dwarf stared at the knife, then turned to her nephew. "Come here, boy, and sit."
Nori looked up from where he was setting the kindling. "I gotta get the fire on."
"The fire can wait."
He nodded and tossed the flint down onto the hearth, then walked over to the table and sat across from his aunt. "Am I in more trouble?"
"You're already in trouble enough," she answered, watching as he tapped his finger absently on the tabletop. "I just want a straight answer out of you. And if I get it, we'll be done with this."
"I gave you a straight answer."
She pulled the knife out of the table. "This has been on my bed-stand for longer than you've been alive," she said. "And never once has anyone said a word about it until now. So, tell me how you know about... about it. About what happened with it. Did your father tell you?"
"Dad never talked about you, so no," he said. "But I know some Man tried to hurt you, so you cut him."
"And how would you know that?"
Nori turned his face aside and his cheeks reddened. "I told you, I seen it," he said. "When I touch things, I see things. I see it like them that was holding it did."
Almar let out a derisive breath, though she had really begun to feel a fright. "You do no such thing."
"I do, just like my dad did." Nori crossed his arms and tilted his chin up. "An' nobody ever believed him, neither. I know why he said not to tell no one... no one's gonna believe me."
The older Dwarf set the knife down on the table and rested her palm on the handle. "Can you not hear yourself?" she asked, trying to calm her voice. "Do you know how ridiculous you sound?"
"I'll prove it, if you let me."
Almar stared hard at him, then shook her head and stood. She walked over to the pot rack and pulled down a copper kettle, then returned to the table and held it out to the boy.
"Look here, then."
Nori took the kettle and turned it over in his hand. He squinted at it, then pursed his lips and shook his head. "There's nothing there."
"So you are lying," said Almar, taking the kettle back from him and very nearly slamming it down on the table. "This has been in plenty of hands, and..."
"Plenty, maybe," said Nori, cutting her off. "But none when someone was upset or mad or really happy or what all."
"What has that to do with anything?"
"Give me something like that," he said. "Give me something else to look at. Something important."
Almar tilted her head at him, then drew her eyebrows together. Why she was humoring the boy in his ridiculous request, she couldn't fathom; but still, she looked around the kitchen for something that he might find some kind of meaning in. She found nothing, however, and instead walked towards the door to the hallway.
"Come on, then," she said. "Follow me."
She held back a sneeze, though it made her head ache, then turned back just long enough to see Nori stand before she continued out. She walked down the passage and to a vacant bedroom and halted, staring at the door for a long few moments before reaching up over the lintel and drawing down a key. She fit it into the lock and paused again, not yet wanting to push the door open.
"Have you ever been in here, Nori?" she asked as the boy stepped up beside her.
"No, ma'am."
"And, so you don't know to whom this room belonged?"
"No, ma'am."
Almar nodded, then pushed the door open. Inside, it was dark and dreary, and there were few furnishings save a single bed and a chest of drawers. The windows had been boarded up over a decade before, and in that time, not a single person had stepped inside; and as Almar looked down at the undisturbed layer of fine dust on the floor, she could tell that Nori had, at least, been telling the truth about not having been in there.
"This room belonged to..." She stopped and cleared her throat; then the dust she and Nori were sending up with their steps got into her nose and she sneezed loudly. She heard a small laugh and looked over at Nori, who quickly covered his mouth to hide his smile. "This room belonged to someone dear to me," she went on.
"Did bad things happen in here?" asked Nori, his eyes darting from side to side.
"That depends on what you consider bad," said Almar. "But if you are gifted in the way you say you are, then you can tell me that for yourself."
Nori glanced from side to side. "What should I touch?" he asked. "There isn't much in here."
"Not much, perhaps," she said, "but enough that you might be able to find something to satisfy your curiosity. Go on and have a look around."
The younger Dwarf bobbed his head in what might have been a nod, then stepped away from his aunt's side. He made his way to the fireplace and ran his fingers along the dusty mantle, then pulled down a small lead figure of a bear. He stared at it, squinted, shook his head, then put it back; and all the while, Almar watched on and held her breath.
"Nothing?" asked Almar, surprised to find that she was tensing up.
Nori pulled down a musty book, which he examined as he had the figure before returning it just the same. "Not yet," he said, turning from the mantle and making his way towards the bureau. "Guess someone just didn't care that much in here."
Despite herself, Almar felt anger rising in her chest. "Can you do this thing of yours with anything?" she asked.
Nori shrugged as he opened one of the drawers and peeked inside. "I guess."
She grabbed him by the arm and led him over to the bed. "Then do it with that," she said, pointing at the old, moth-eaten quilt that covered the feather mattress. "Tell me about it."
Nori bit down on his lip, then sat on the bed and ran his palm over the coverlet. His mouth twisted, his eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared; then he smiled gently.
"Someone little's playing," he said. "He's running, an'..." his smile failed and a look of horror crossed his face; then he stood and backed away suddenly from the bed. "That's not good!" he yelled at his aunt, his hands shaking as he held them out in front of himself. "Why'd you wanna show me that?"
Almar shook her head and stepped back, her mouth falling open. "What are you talking about?" she said, looking down at the quilt. "What did you see?"
"No!" yelled Nori, then he made his way towards the door. His aunt managed to grab him by the arm before he got too far, and he spun around and slapped her hand away. "Why would you show me that?"
"Show you what?" asked Almar. She placed a hand on each of Nori's shoulders, trying to still his shuddering. "What did you... what did you think you saw?"
"What did you want me to see?" he asked. "There was... I was watching a boy an' he was... there was a laundry line..."
Fright stopped Almar's breaths and she shook Nori. "Stop it!" she yelled; then she pushed him away and squeezed her eyes shut against the memory he had dredged up.
What he had seen-what he had claimed to see-was not what she had hoped for. That bed had been where Nori's mother had been lying when her first son had been born. Jes had been in pain, but joy had followed - and Almar had hoped that Nori would have seen that moment, if what he claimed to be able to do was the truth.
Instead, what he had described to her had been a far-distant memory of her own - one that she had almost forgotten, and had never wanted to recall. Why he would have picked up on that, though, she couldn't say. The the bed, the room - neither of them figured into that memory, and she hadn't even been living on the farm at the time.
She spun around and stepped to the bed, then stared warily down at the quilt and swallowed hard, ignoring the sting in her throat. Placing her fingertips on one of the squares, she felt along the linen weave; then she clutched the wet rag tighter and turned, sitting down on the bed and hanging her head.
Nori's feet stepped into view. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked softly.
Almar looked at the square again and rubbed her fingers over it. "I had a dress..." she said, her eyes blurring with tears. "I wore it all the time... it was my favorite. I was little then." She looked up at Nori, who was chewing on his lower lip and listening anxiously. "I had a younger brother. It was... it was before your mother was born."
"Is what who I seen?" asked Nori. "Was that your little brother?"
Almar nodded, turning her eyes aside. "We were playing... I was chasing him. He didn't see the laundry line... my mother was fixing it, and she had it loosened so it was lower than it should have been... and he... his neck hit it..."
"He died?" asked Nori breathlessly; and when Almar looked up again, she saw that his eyes were wide and watering. "An' that quilt piece was from your dress?"
She let out a long breath and grabbed her nephew by the hand. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have..." She stopped, realizing that, in the face of the evidence, she could not deny Nori's claim. "I'm sorry I made you see that. I didn't remember it much, myself."
"Then I'm sorry I made you think about it," said Nori. He sat down next to her and draped his arm over her shoulder. "You believe me though, I guess..."
Almar patted him on the knee and tried to calm her breaths. "So, that's why your father liked to steal, then?" she asked, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "He wanted to... see things."
"He couldn't really stop himself from looking," said Nori. "An' he said it was better if it was other folks' stuff instead of folks' he knew. Cuz' if he knew 'em, it would be too much like eavesdropping, an' it's better if you don't know some things about the folks you know."
An ache rose in Almar's chest. "He was right about that," she said; and at once, she felt a touch of shame for maligning Nisti's thievery. "I think, if you knew everything about the people in your life, you wouldn't like them very much."
"I know what you did with the knife," said Nori, "an' I still like you."
She smiled slightly, then let out a heavy breath. "How do you see these things?"
"I don't know. I just see them."
"No, I didn't mean to ask how it is done," she said, though she had to admit to herself that she was immensely curious about that. "I mean, do you see it from the eyes of the person?"
Nori nodded. "Yeah, but I can only see," he said. "I can't hear or feel or nothing."
"Then how would you know it was me that held the knife?"
"I know your ring," he said, pointing at the silver and emerald band that she had on the small finger of her right hand. "You was wearing it at the time an' I seen it when you cut that Man."
Almar looked down at her hand. "Do you want the honest truth, Nori?"
"That's fair, right?" he asked. "That's what you want from me, so shouldn't I get it from you?"
She tilted her head in half a nod. "Absolutely," she said. "And if you want to know, the ring belonged to someone else before it was mine."
"So I wasn't looking at what you seen?" asked Nori.
Almar shook her head. "I'm afraid not," she told him. "And I never hurt anyone with that knife. I just keep it by my bed for safety's sake... just in case."
He looked around the space again, his eyes shining even in the near-darkness. "So, whose room was this, anyway?"
"You are very curious, aren't you?"
Nori smiled crookedly and nodded, and Almar went on.
"It was your mother's room."
"You know I don't know nothing about her..." he said, his eyes lighting up. "Maybe I could..."
"You will not pry, Nori," said Almar. "Not in my home. You will not... look at anything that belongs to anyone else without permission. I don't know how you do what you do, except that there's more in this world that we could understand... but I think it would be best if you didn't go looking in on other people's business; even their past business."
Nori let out a long breath. "Yes, ma'am."
With that said-and despite Nori's pleading look-Almar stood and made her way towards the door. When she reached it, she stopped and sniffled a bit, then she turned around and motioned for the boy to join her. He rose to his feet and together they stepped into the hall, and after they both gave the room a final glance, Almar shut the door.
"You will not steal from me again, will you?" she asked, locking the door and sliding the key into her trouser pocket.
Nori shook his head and they again made their way back to the kitchen.
"What you can do is a dangerous thing," she went on. "You know that, don't you?"
"How?"
"You claimed..." She let out a breath, reminding herself again that he had proven himself, then she sat down in a chair and scratched her beard. "You saw what you thought was one thing - me with this..." She pointed at the knife on the table. "But that wasn't what you really saw. Can you be so sure that what you are looking at is accurate every time?"
Nori hung his head as he stood by her side. "No, ma'am." He looked up at her past his eyebrows. "Am I still in trouble? Do I still have to tend the goats?"
"Yes," said Almar flatly; then she smiled. "But not for a couple of weeks. For now, get the fire going and set up the stockpot... your old aunt needs a rest and a bowl of broth."
The younger Dwarf spun on his heel and made his way towards the fireplace, but as he reached the hearth rug he halted and turned back around. "You said not to steal from you," he said. "Does that mean I can..."
"No stealing from anyone, Nori," scolded Almar. "If you have need to use this... gift of yours, then we will find you a way to do it without thievery."
Nori stared at her for a few seconds, then the corner of his mouth twitched up into a brief smile. "Yes, ma'am," he said, then shifted back to the fireplace and kneeled, picking up the flint he had dropped on the hearth.
Almar closed her eyes and reached out, blindly grabbing the knife handle with her uninjured hand and gripping it tightly. There was a lot she wanted to tell Nori now-though not so long ago, she had seen him as a burden and a nuisance-but neither did she want to hurt him with the full truth.
She could not yet let the boy know about how Nisti and the Man had broken in to their home - she couldn't tell him about how, when the Man had been spotted by the young widowed mother, he had tried to take Dori as a hostage for her silence, and how Jes had cut him with the knife in her infant son's defense.
Almar could not tell Nori about how Nisti had then turned on his partner, about how he had saved Dori and Jes, how he had killed the Man in the process. She couldn't tell Nori about how his mother and Nisti had then fallen in together, how Almar had warned her that he would bring her no good - she couldn't tell him about how they had married one another, and had then left many months later because of Almar's disapproval.
Her hold on the knife grew tighter still and she looked over at Nori, then down at the ring that Jes had given her when she had left. The boy had seen enough through holding the blade, though not all - and she supposed if she hadn't stopped him when she had, he might have seen too much. She would have to keep both the weapon and the ring away from him for now; and she would have to go through the house in search of anything else he might get hold of and see things in.
In time, though, she would send word to her sister. She would tell her about the boy, about what he could do, about what he had seen. Then, maybe, his mother would be able to clear things up for him, herself, before he looked through older eyes and saw things that would break him.
