“There will be a need for more houses.” The woman made a spiraling gesture that conveyed the wholeness of the edifice with all its murmurous inhabitants.
“Perhaps some of the people in residence will be able to leave,” the man said. He sounded doubtful of this.
“Some are ready to leave as Mendicants.” Trale sighed. “Taking their pipes with them, as we do. The others—if they go, they go into madness once more. More houses will be needed, but it’s unlikely we’ll be able to build them.”
“We could keepher here.”
“By force?” It was a question only, without emotion. But the woman flushed deep crimson. “I thought, persuade her, perhaps.”
“Try,” Trale urged her. “By all means, Elina, try. It has not a hope of success, but you will not be content unless you try.”
Late in the day a bell rang and people began filing down from the chimney top toward the refectory. Children leapt from the railings into nets and from these into other nets below. Some whirled down tall poles. A train of whooping boys came spinning down the spiraling banister, loud with laughter. The tables filled, and there was a clatter of bowls and spoons. Out in the chimney hall, Elina pared Jarb-root peels onto the brazier, renewing the pale wraiths of smoke which filled all the space to its high, blind skylight. Pamra opened the door of her room and came out onto the balcony to look down, Lila held high against her shoulder. Elina beckoned to them, and Lila squirmed out of Pamra’s arms, over the railing, plunging downward, arms spread as though to fly. Elina caught her, without thinking, only then turning pale with shock while the child chortled in her arms and Pamra, above, put hands to her throat as though to choke off a scream.
“All right,” said Lila. “You caught me.”
“Did you know I would?” the woman asked in an astonished whisper.
“Oh, yes,” said Lila. “The smoke is nice.” Pamra was coming slowly down the twisting ramp, her eyes never leaving the child below. Lila squirmed to be put down and staggered toward the foot of the ramp, face contorted in the enormous concentration necessary to walking. She did not fall until the ramp was reached, and Pamra scooped her up.
“Lila, don’t ever do that again.” In her voice was all the anguish of every mother, every elder sister, all imperiousness gone. She smiled at Elina, shaking her head, and they shared the moment. Children! The things they did! It lasted only a moment.
“I should be getting back to my people,” Pamra said. “They will be wondering what has happened to me.”
“They know you are here,” the woman responded. “It is still raining. They will be more comfortable if they believe you are comfortable. Do not add your discomfort to their own by going back into the wet.”
“You’re right, of course. And it will not hurt to have a warm meal.” Pamra was amazed at herself, but she was hungry again. She looked around her curiously. “I got only the general impression before. Are all Jarb Houses built this way?”
”Yes. So the smoke can permeate the whole structure.”
“The smoke? I see it does. But why?”
Elina took her by the arm, drawing her close, as though they had been sisters, used to sharing confidences. “The Jarb smoke is said to give visions, you know? But in reality, Jarb smoke erases visions and restores reality. For those disturbed by visions of madness, the Jarb smoke brings actuality. You see that woman going into the refectory? The tall one with the wild red hair? On the outside, she is a beast who roams the forests, killing all who pursue her, sure of their ill will and obsessed by the terrors of the world. Here she is Kindle Kindness, a loving friend to half the house.”
Pamra peered at the woman, not seeming to understand what was being said.
“Outside, she has visions of herself as a beast, of herself hunted. In the house, the smoke wipes those visions away. In here, she is only herself.”
Pamra stared at her, awareness coming to her suddenly, her face paling. “Neff,” she cried. “Neff!”