DIE KINDER

German, "the children"

Do you burn because you remember darkness? -- Ruth Awad, In the Gloaming, in the Roiling Night

Once upon a time Karandren had thought nothing could be more uncomfortable than waking up as a fourteen-year-old. He had been wrong. He had been amazingly, unbelievably wrong. Nothing could be more uncomfortable than waking up as a four-year-old and trying to adjust to a body that was tiny. Worst of all was how the rest of the world seemed enormous. Stairs he could easily climb as a teenager were now almost insurmountable obstacles.

He stumbled out of bed and very slowly pulled on his warmest clothes. Then he made his way downstairs, pausing on every step to regain his balance. He scribbled a note and left it on the table. Unfortunately his body was still learning to write and refused to properly form letters. The finished note read, "am gOing tOOO See wOrLD! DOntwOrrY!"

In addition to the irregular spaces and capitals, the letters ran into each other and wavered up and down the page. He could just imagine what Diarnlan would say if she saw the note. With a grimace he left it on the kitchen table.

Karandren pulled on his boots and stood on tiptoe to open the front door. He toddled down the steps and across the yard. That was yet another drawback of this new lifetime. It took him ages to get anywhere on foot. Walking down the lane left him out of breath within minutes. His feet hurt and his clothes were too heavy.

Somehow this is Diarnlan's fault, he thought, huffing indignantly as he stopped to catch his breath.

When he finally reached the end of the lane he half-leant and half-collapsed against the letter-box. No sign of Diarnlan yet. Karandren sat down and folded his arms. He waited with increasing annoyance as the minutes passed.

At last he heard footsteps in the distance. They grew closer until Diarnlan came into view. She stopped and looked around. Her gaze passed right over Karandren without seeing him. He bristled indignantly.

"Ahem!"

She jumped and stared in every direction but the right one. Karandren stepped away from the letter-box. Diarnlan finally noticed him.

There was silence for a moment. Then she burst out laughing.

Karandren marched up to her. Well, he tried to march. His legs were so short and his coat was so heavy that it was more of a gentle trot than a march. When he stood in front of her he was dismayed to find he only reached her knees and had to crane his neck to glare up at her.

This is an outrage! How do I lodge a complaint?

His thoughts went off on a brief tangent about who was responsible for this mess and how he could complain to them. Maybe he would just have to wait until he died for real, and then he could punch whatever god he found waiting for him.

Diarnlan was still laughing. Karandren scowled.

"Shut up!" he yelled in his now strangely high-pitched voice. To his horror he realised he only sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Diarnlan certainly thought so too. She stopped laughing, but her grin was almost worse. In a disgustingly sugary tone -- and it was downright surreal hearing that coming from Diarnlan, the least sugary person he'd ever met -- she asked, "Aww, is the little baby upset?"

Karandren kicked out at her ankle. He overbalanced and sat down abruptly. Diarnlan just laughed harder.

When the sun rose its rays fell on two small figures trekking along the road to Gufufjoror. Diarnlan walked ahead and left Karandren to keep up as best he could. He was far too out of breath to speak for most of the journey.

At last they paused at the signpost that read "Two miles to Gufufjoror". A bench carved out of stone had been helpfully placed at the side of the road. Unfortunately it was meant for adults, not small children. Karandren struggled to climb onto the seat. Diarnlan sat down and watched his efforts with the superior expression of someone who didn't have to deal with being three feet tall.

He grabbed hold of her coat and used it to haul himself up beside her, ignoring her yell and her efforts to push him away. When he was safely seated on the bench he stuck his tongue out at her.

"That hurt!" she grumbled, rubbing the back of her neck where the coat had dug in.

"Good." Karandren scooted over to the other side to avoid a punch. "Where are we going?"

Diarnlan looked at him as if he was very stupid. "To Grønager, of course. To stop the skrýszel attacking again."

Karandren looked at the road. He followed it with his eyes until it disappeared into the distance. "You'd better hire a cart because there's no way in hell I'm walking all the way to the coast." An unpleasant suspicion occurred to him. "Do you have any money?"

"Of course."

"...Who did you steal it from?"

Diarnlan glared at him. "Why do you think I stole it from anyone?"

"Because you can't have much of your own."

He was amused to see she started to nod before she caught herself.

"Well, as it happens, I borrowed some from the headmistress."

It took Karandren a minute to put two and two together. His first instinct was to laugh. Then he realised what that meant. He buried his head in his hands. "Idiot! She'll never let you get away with that!"

Diarnlan rolled her eyes. "I believe it was you who said the things we do in our lifetimes don't matter because they'll all be erased."

"But they damn well matter now!"

She opened her mouth. Then she closed it again. She turned and stared at him incredulously. "Are you complaining about theft? You? A kidnapper and murderer?"

It was Karandren's turn to open and close his mouth wordlessly. When he finally thought of something to say he snapped, "Well, if I'm going to get arrested I want it to be for something worthwhile! Not because you stole a few coins!"

"Five hundred krónur, actually," Diarnlan muttered.

Karandren screeched in outrage. "She'll notice that much money has gone! You're going to get us arrested, and we'll be thrown in jail, and--"

Diarnlan cast a silencing spell. His wild predictions faded into indistinct mumbling.

"Congratulations," she said dryly. "You're even more annoying as a child than as an adult. Now come on, and if you're too slow I'll leave you behind. Don't you dare think I'll carry you."

They reached the city of Gufufjoror after walking for another hour and a half. Diarnlan would have continued on towards Grønager without stopping, but Karandren was having none of that. Being stuck in the body of a toddler had some benefits. He sat down on the pavement and began to cry at the top of his lungs. Diarnlan stared at him in a mixture of horror and disgust as a crowd of sympathetic old ladies rushed over to comfort him.

"What's the matter, poor little dear?" one woman asked, patting his head in a way that infuriated him.

"Have you hurt yourself?"

"Did you fall?"

Karandren pointed tearfully at Diarnlan. "My feet hurt and she won't let me rest!"

At once Diarnlan found herself on the receiving end of many disapproving looks. There was much head-shaking and tut-tutting from the women.

"You should be more considerate of your little brother," a woman told her sternly. "Let the poor child rest!"

Diarnlan spluttered indignantly. Karandren dodged past the overly-sympathetic hands that kept patting his head and grabbed hold of her leg.

"Please let's get ice cream," he pleaded, gazing up at her with tear-filled eyes.

If looks could kill he would have been reduced to a pile of ash on the pavement. Unfortunately for Diarnlan, all of the old ladies immediately took Karandren's side. Unless she wanted to cause an even bigger scene, she had no choice but to give in.

Diarnlan gritted her teeth and scooped Karandren up. He yelped and tried to struggle. She tightened her grip warningly.

"One more word out of you and I'll throw you in front of a carriage," she threatened in an undertone.

She stalked off towards the nearest café. Karandren waited until she set him down on a chair. Then he bit her hand. She swore and moved as if she was about to strike him. A waiter approached at that minute and she pretended to just be adjusting Karandren's hat instead.

Five minutes later Karandren was happily shovelling ice cream into his mouth. Diarnlan glowered at her cup of tea as if it was responsible for everything that had happened.

"So," Karandren said with his mouth full. He ignored the disgusted look Diarnlan gave him. "What do we do when we get to Grønager?"

Diarnlan picked up her cup and drank in silence for a minute. At last she answered. "We'll find somewhere to stay. Then you can beg on the streets while I try to find the hole in the veil."

Karandren was about to throw his spoon at her before he realised that she was wearing the wry and rather grim expression that marked her attempts at humour. Wonder of wonders! She'd actually tried to make a joke! To him, of all people!

"I'll give a false name, of course," she continued. "And you'll have to go to school." Karandren opened his mouth to protest. She interrupted with, "Do you think the village gossips will hold their tongues if they see a young boy who doesn't go to school?"

Karandren sank back down in his chair with a disgruntled expression. "This lifetime is awful. I can't go to school! Everyone will know there's something odd about me!"

Diarnlan raised an eyebrow. She said nothing, but he got the message. He stuck his tongue out at her.

They sat in silence for a while. Diarnlan finished her tea. Karandren finished his ice cream. Then he picked up the bowl and licked it just to see the look on Diarnlan's face. She snatched the bowl out of his hands, picked up a napkin, and scrubbed the ice cream off his face.

"I have an idea," Karandren said as they got up to leave. Diarnlan groaned. He pushed on regardless. "Why don't we go and stay in your old house?"

"There are other people living there."

"Then why don't we just kill them and move in like we did in Miavain?"

Diarnlan stopped. She counted to ten under her breath. "I wasn't joking about throwing you in front of a carriage."

He shrugged and gave up on that idea. "Then let's find an empty house somewhere. Think about it. If we live somewhere outside the village, we won't have to explain where we came from and I won't have to go to school."

Diarnlan stayed silent for the rest of the journey to the train station. Karandren assumed that meant she disapproved of this suggestion as much as the other. But when they got on the train she spoke as if the conversation had only ended a minute ago.

"We'll see if there are any empty houses along the coast. If not, we'll stay in the village and I don't want to hear any more bright ideas from you."

The train didn't go directly to Grønager. Instead it went to the nearest large town. Diarnlan and Karandren made their way on foot towards the village. Karandren stumbled over the rough ground. After his fifth near-fall Diarnlan sighed in exasperation. She bent down, picked him up, and tossed him over her shoulder as if he was a sack of potatoes.

Karandren was taken so completely by surprise that he couldn't think of anything to say until they'd travelled a good distance. He opened his mouth.

Diarnlan must have sensed it because she immediately snapped, "Not one word. I'm sick of you holding me up. That's all."

He fell silent and let her carry him the rest of the way.

It turned out there was an empty house near the shore. It was an old and very small house with only four rooms, broken windows, a door hanging off its hinges, and a complete lack of insulation.

Diarnlan set Karandren down outside and stepped through the door. He waited for a few minutes before following her inside. He found her in the kitchen, frowning at the very rusty sink.

"A bit of magic will fix that," he said cheerfully.

She frowned at him. "Everything in this place needs magic to fix it. I don't have much magic and you have even less."

"Then let's start practicing!"

By the end of the day the living room was the only part of the house that was somewhat habitable. Diarnlan had cast cleaning spells, warming spells and repairing spells all over the place. In spite of all her efforts it was still a gloomy place. The floorboards sagged and the wallpaper was hanging off the walls.

While she was busy Karandren had been practicing magic on a few bricks. He'd turned them into a chair, a table, and now he'd managed to turn them into two mattresses. Rather hard and lumpy mattresses, but better than sleeping on the floor. He presented them proudly to Diarnlan, and was pleased to see her grind her teeth at how he'd managed something she hadn't.

She placed her mattress as far away from his as possible. Their coats made fairly good makeshift blankets. The lack of food was the only problem, but Karandren had often gone to sleep hungry while in Miavain. He curled up and went to sleep.

In the middle of the night his magic wore off. The mattresses turned back into bricks. Diarnlan and Karandren got a very rude awakening when they found themselves lying on the floor.

There was silence for a minute. Then, "Karandreeeeeeen!"

Funny. He'd never heard Diarnlan sound so angry before. Not even when he killed her.

"It was an accident," he said sleepily. "Can't be helped now."

Diarnlan said nothing. Maybe she'd gone back to sleep.

Then a bucket of icy water emptied itself over his head.