As I tied the twine around the fifth sack of herbs Altasa had tasked me with delivering that morning, I was reminded of the threads my sisters and I would weave together to pass the time. Tavi and I sitting side by side, pulling or folding.
“My sister would be good at this,” I said to Altasa, who stuffed the bags much more quickly than I was tying them.
She looked up at me. “Why doesn’t she come and help, if she’ll be faster than you?”
“Too busy to see me, I’m sure.”
“Well, I don’t see you clawing out of here trying to see her.”
I cinched the knot so tightly it rubbed raw my fingertips. “She doesn’t care if I’m here or there.”
“I doubt that is true. Do not underestimate the love one feels for family. It takes a grave transgression to fracture that relationship.”
I thought of my father, whom I barely cared for. For whom I’d given no tears when he died. Grave transgressions he had committed, indeed.
She paused her task. “My sister truly did not care if I was here or there.”
I stopped, too, and looked at her, waiting.
“She was the beautiful one.” Altasa patted her cheek. “I know this surprises you. She was supposed to marry a fine man. My father and mother put everything they had into her dowry, but then she goes and finds some man who isn’t looking for a wife. Learns she is with child.” Shaking her head, she began scooping the mixture into the bags again. “She ruined our entire family’s chance for comfort. I don’t know if she felt shame or anger. But I never gave up on her. Never let her believe she wasn’t loved.”
I remembered the soup we had shared after the camel race. Despite her disapproval with my choice, she did not give up on me, either. “It’s why you followed her here?” I wished Tavi would follow me, want me, need me. “Where is she?”
“Left me here. Went home, I suspect. Not sure if she even still lives.”
I let out a long breath. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“Because although I no longer have her, I, too, have no regret.”
Later that day, Kas led me down the shore, coaxing me along with promises that we were almost there.
The palace was well behind us now. This part of the shore was rockier, and only grew more so the farther along we walked.
“Here we are,” Kas said, gesturing to what appeared to be a pile of rocks.
Looking back at the palace, now the size of my thumb, I groaned.
“All this way for rocks?”
He clucked at me the way Hadiyah used to when I spoke of the salt trade in the zafif. He moved toward the rocks, stepping behind one until he disappeared.
“Kas?” Quickly, I followed him. Dragging my hand along the rock’s rough surface, I moved around it until I realized there was a small space—enough for one person to fit through. “Kas?” I called into the space. My question called back.
Nothing.
I walked into it and followed the opening into another turn that led me into a hole. Soon, the sun was only a weak light behind me.
With a shudder, I realized I was in a cave.
“Kas?” I said much more quietly. His name bounced alongside the sound of crashing waves. I heard the dripping of water and a small metallic clink.
At once, there was a whoosh, and Kas was standing an arm’s length away from me, cast in the orange glow of a fire.
“Sons!” I screamed, too loudly.
Kas laughed just as loudly.
I smacked his arm. “What were you thinking, eh? I might’ve killed you.”
“You?” He laughed harder. “Can you kill anything?”
“I wouldn’t tell you if I could.” I went farther into the cave, the shadows from the fire pulsing around me. “How’d you light that?”
“I came down earlier today so that it would be lit and ready. Carrying a lantern with us would have ruined the surprise, no?”
“But it was dark when I walked in. Then it was not.” I glanced back to him. He was holding the lantern up to peer at the jagged walls and low ceiling.
“I had it covered, see?”
He held up a dark blanket in his other hand.
Looking around, I asked, “What is this place anyway? A si’la cave?”
“Si’la?” He sounded offended. “Why do the vilest spirits get all the fun? Why not simply a cave of wonders?” He waggled his fingers around like he was doing magic.
I reached the end of the cave—a dense pile of rocks—and began to walk back. It was long and narrow, not much to see, and I wondered why he had brought me here.
“It’s an old salt mine,” Kas said finally, pointing to the rock pile. “If it weren’t for the collapse, they’d probably still use it.”
“I’ve never been in a cave. Nor a mine for that matter.” There was something comfortable about it. It was private, closed in. Secure.
“It’s why I thought you would like it. It’s the closest one to the city.”
It reminded me of the fallen dome Saalim and I had found shelter in.
“We cannot stay too long, though,” Kas said. “When the water rises, it fills in. We’ll be up to our knees.” His grin was discordant with the flash of terror I felt. I did not care how shallow the water would be. If it had a current, I didn’t want it near me. He reassured me the tide would not rise for some time as he sat down against the wall.
“What would you wish for?” he asked.
“Wish?”
“If jinn were real?”
“This again?” I fanned out the blanket beside the lantern and sat. Now that we were out of the sun, I was growing cold.
His smile was as soft as the sand. There was a pause, and he asked again. “Your wish?”
Pulling my knees to my chest, I rubbed my legs to warm them. “I wouldn’t wish for anything.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You lie.”
A warm wind found its way into the cave, and I closed my eyes against it. “I don’t.” And it was true. Magic no longer had a place in my life. “Should I want something, a wish seems the wrong way to go about getting it.” Never mind the consequences.
“So be it. Tell me one thing you want. I bet I can find a way to give that to you without magic, eh?” It was very much like him to promise big things. Wasn’t it just the other evening that he had sworn on Masira he could rally an army to steal a ship to sail with me across the sea?
But I didn’t want to sail now, no matter how appealing the guitars and grapes were in the north. The thing I wanted now, Kas could not give. Life in Madinat Almulihi was good if I ignored the skeptical stares and questions about my home. The only thing that left me wanting was Saalim, and I was not even sure I wanted him anymore. Not only betrothed, but too, he was not the Saalim I had known. Did I still dream of walking hand in hand with him along the shore? I was not sure I did.
“Are you still thinking about it?” Kas asked. “Or have you forgotten I asked?” His head was tilted toward me, his scar deep in the shadows.
“Love,” I said, uncaring if I sounded a fool. “Find me that.”
He looked at his hands. “You want the love you had before.” He sounded sure.
I sighed.
“You don’t have to tell me.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the stone. “It doesn’t matter, not really. Except . . . sometimes I wonder if I’m a fool to chase you.”
“Kas,” I whispered.
“Sorry, is this too much? I wondered if I should . . . but then I thought if I did and maybe you felt the same . . .”
The same as what? What did he feel? We had seen so much of each other the past two moons, especially since the camel race. He seemed to understand me where Firoz, Tavi, and even Altasa could not. He knew my mind and my heart.
“Where are you from?” I asked him. Was he from the desert as I was? It would explain so much.
“What sort of question . . .”
I brought my face to his, his question slipping away with the waves. He didn’t look like a salt chaser, but his parents might have been nomads. He never talked of his home. His eyes reflected the flames, his hands nervous as they moved against each other. He was vulnerable now, so unlike the Kas he showed the rest of the world—boastful and proud. That vulnerability softened me just a little.
What was I chasing now? Kas was kind. He was certainly handsome—although not rich. I thought of Pinar, my sister who always wanted someone rich over someone handsome. I grinned at the memory.
“You’re laughing at me?” Kas asked, a small but shocked smile curving his lips.
“No!” I said, giggling more and waving my hands around us. “It’s just everything.”
Perhaps it was the tension breaking off piece by piece, but Kas began laughing, too. And together, we laughed even more, the glee circling us in the cave.
With love, life was amplified. Perhaps I could find that with Kas.
“Kas,” I said, but then I stopped. What was I going to tell him? I did not want to lose my only friend. “It is not a no.” Carefully, I placed my hand on his.
“I will take it.” He wrapped his fingers around my palm. His hand was cool.
We stood, hand in hand. Like children, we looked anywhere but at each other.
Then, “Emel.” His face was closer now, I knew what he was going to do. What did I care if a man kissed me? That had been my entire life so recently.
Turning my face up to his, I waited. So swiftly he pressed his lips to mine. There was no magic that sent warmth to my fingers, no scent of Madinat Almulihi that wrapped me from head to toe. It was only Kas.
And that was all right, I decided.
When I did not flinch or step away—whatever he had been expecting—his eyes met mine. The gray shimmered brightly in the dimness. They were not Saalim’s eyes.
I closed mine.
Do not think of him.
The heat of Kas’ body was near now, and I felt his lips press against mine again. This time I let myself feel it, feel him. They were not Saalim’s, but—Sons, I could not keep comparing them.
He was warm, he was gentle. His mouth moved against mine, and I did the same, coaxing and inviting him to stay. See, Kas? This was not so bad. Perhaps we could make each other happy.
His fingers were on my shoulders now, slowly drifting across my neck, over the bones that slept there, and finally, down my breastbone.
He hesitated. The gesture perhaps too intimate? Why wasn’t I hesitating? Kas stepped back from me, and when I mustered the courage to look at him, he was peering at me curiously.
“What is it?” I asked, feeling absurdly self-conscious in the cave.
“The tide is coming in.” He pointed down to his feet, where, sure enough, water was just beginning to trickle in. Wordlessly, I followed him out, my eyes aching at the brightness of day.
We did not talk much during the walk back, save for Kas pointing at various buildings near the shore, telling of the families that lived there.
Had I done something wrong? Was I so unappealing? The years of suitors who rejected me flashed through my mind as if confirming that yes, I was not a woman of worth. But no, that was not true. Their rejections had been due to Saalim’s magic.
Soon we were walking up the stone steps that led to the city’s center. Near the large trading ships, I saw the tunnel, into which a small boat carrying two people and a net filled with writhing silver disappeared. Fishermen. I thought of Tavi. I had not seen her since my last visit.
“Where do you live?” I asked Kas, realizing I had no idea.
“Why, are you going to come find me in my bed?” The corner of his mouth twitched.
“And if I do?”
He didn’t answer, and an uneasiness settled between us.
I said goodbye to Kas near the palace. He shifted from foot to foot, then said, “Will I see you at the Falsa Mawk?”
Altasa was counting down the days until the festival, so I knew it was a long way off. “But that is not for nearly a whole moon,” I said. “Won’t I see you before then?”
He recovered some, his unease dissipating when he smirked. “You want to?”
“Of course.”
He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Good.”
Glad he had returned to the Kas I knew, I said farewell. Unsure of how to say goodbye after our exchange in the cave, I wrapped my arms around him.
Walking away, I could not understand why he seemed so reluctant to hug me in return.
Saira told me that Tavi was out when I arrived at the house.
“With Yakub again.” Though she sounded stern, there was a crooked smile on her lips. She did not know where they had gone, and so I left, disappointed.
A boat drifted by with a woman and two young children, whose curious faces turned to watch me as they passed. I imagined floating down the canal with Kas, him laughing and holding my hand as I gripped the boat’s edge in terror as it swayed.
Maybe Kas was the answer to everything. Perhaps Masira marking me was not because she wanted me to be free and stay with Saalim as I had thought. Maybe she simply wanted me to find joy in my freedom and his. Perhaps it was her providence that Kas’s path had crossed with mine. I was buoyed by the thought. Yes, maybe that was it.
“Emel?”
I turned in the direction of the voice and smiled at my sister coming down the canal. “Tavi!”
Yakub guided their narrow boat toward me, nodding with a shy smile. “I’ll tie up the boat, then. You head back home.”
Tavi swiftly kissed his cheek and hopped off the boat with remarkable ease. “What are you doing here?” she asked as we embraced.
“I came to see you. It has been far too long. I am sorry.”
“You’re sorry? We both have failed each other,” she said. “Come on. Let’s walk.”
Tavi took me along the canal.
“Where does it go?” I pointed at the water.
“To more homes and shops. Yakub’s family lives further down.”
The canal widened out as it broke off in two directions.
I said, “I did not realize so much of the city could be reached by boat.”
Tavi shook her head. “Not much can. The city is enormous, and the canals only reach small parts of it.”
At the split of the canal, steps led down into the water. Tavi saw me survey the stairs and took me down them so we could sit with our feet just above the water.
After a pause, she said, “I heard the palace is closed completely now.”
When I told her about the Darkafa, she grew concerned. “Is it safe? I am sure Saira will let you stay with us if needed.”
“Right now it is the safest place to be, I suspect.” Sitting so near the water, this felt particularly true.
“Can you believe people swim in here when the sun is hot?”
I gasped. “Why?” The water was so dark I could not see its floor.
“Yakub said people do it for enjoyment.” She shrugged. “He said he would teach me.”
“You wouldn’t! If you can’t feel the bottom with your feet, you don’t belong in it.”
She shook her head, the gold hoops from her ears hitting her neck. “I am a child of Eiqab! Wahir would drown me no matter how many times I have prayed to him.”
“Good,” I said. “Now tell me more about Yakub.”
“He helps Josef at sea. His parents are very old, so he and his siblings take care of them. He has six brothers. Can you imagine?”
“I can. We lived with two dozen sisters.”
“At least we were liberal with scented oils.”
“But who is Yakub to you?” It was the question she was avoiding, I knew. I looked at her, and she smiled, her eyes falling to the water. The way her face was turned, I could see a shadow of Sabra in the curve of her cheek. A new ache grew, remembering our older sister and how she was killed with my wish. How Tavi had grieved, then resolved that her life would be different. Even Sabra, I think, would have been pleased to see her now—happy and fulfilled.
“He is so patient. You’re at ease here the way you navigate the city like a native, but I am still very scared.”
I nearly laughed. Did I hide it that well?
She continued. “He has been considerate, showing me things, telling me what to do or what to avoid . . . like that camel race. Did you hear of it? I thought it would be fun. I was glad I did not go.”
“I wish I had done the same.”
Pity turned down her mouth. She placed her hand on my knee. She had new rings on her fingers, each shaped and twisted differently. I scooted closer so that our sides touched. A man of Madinat Almulihi who did not carry the prejudice of his neighbors did not sound so bad.
“Do you love him, then?”
Tavi pressed her fingers between mine, separating my hands as I fussed with my nails.
“Something like that, yes.”
Leaning my head against hers, I said, “Maybe you can take me to the temple one day. I heard it is beautiful.”
“I would love that.”
We sat on the steps together for some time. Sisters of the sand staring at the reined-in sea. When we first arrived in this city, we were homeless, threads ripped from a tapestry. But Tavi, at least, had found people to help weave her back into place.
It was time for me to do the same.
I lay beside Kas on the shore, watching the water slide up to the edge of the blanket before slipping back down the sand.
“I keep expecting Altasa to have words with me for how much I’ve been gone, but she doesn’t seem to mind.” I reached out and touched the foamy lip of the sea.
“It’s like you said, she’s feeling better.”
“I suppose.” I glanced at him, lying with his chest down, chin on his stacked hands, just like me. He stared off at the horizon, his eyes soft and peaceful, as if he might fall asleep.
The sun was setting, and I knew I should be returning soon or all the dinner would be gone from the kitchens. With more soldiers around the palace, there seemed to be less and less food to spare.
“What about you?” I asked, nudging him with my elbow. Our sides were next to each other, nearly touching.
“What about me?”
“Are you missed?” Never did Kas talk about his family, his work.
“Missed by whom?” he asked.
“Your family?”
“I live alone. I have no need for family.”
“By your friends then? Where is your family?”
“Emel,” he said as he rolled to his side to face me.
“What do you do when you’re not with me?”
“You want to go down this path?” Now he sounded irritated. “What would impress you the most? If I said I was amassing that army to fetch you a boat? If I said I was at sea catching fish? If I said I was sitting on a throne? Or perhaps if I was a prisoner, escaped?”
“I only want to know more about you,” I said, rolling into him, knowing that would soften him some.
“Do you?” He kissed the slope of my neck, and I curled into myself, feigning shy delight. No matter how hard I tried, being like this with him felt wrong. It was the only time I thanked my father for my training as an ahira. I do not think Kas knew I was insincere. In time, I could learn to love him.
When I finally straightened out, I rolled back toward him. Expecting to fall into his chest, I yelped when no one was there, and I collapsed onto my back. Scrambling up, I swiveled around.
Kas was gone.
I looked up and down the beach. I saw lovers, families, and wanderers who strolled alone, but I did not see Kas. There was a small crowd that ascended the stairs to the city. Was he among them?
The steps to the city were nearby. Had he run up those so quickly? My gaze followed their path, skimming past the white flowers whose petals were beginning to unfurl at the setting sun. The palace rose up over the steps, and I followed the walls up to the nearest tower. There, on the balcony, I saw the silhouette of someone who leaned against the rail.
Saalim.
I stared at him, wondering if he could see me. Then, a black-haired figure walked out beside him. A woman. Dima? She rested her hand on his shoulder, and the two of them walked back inside.
I looked back at the beach, at my leather slippers, still stiff in their newness, at the cuffs of my pants embroidered with so many threads. Furiously, I clawed sand into my fist and threw it at the sea.