CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The night is long and cold when spent alone
And sun’s rays murder sleep without a sound
Dreams die when lids open to greet the day
Their bodies burning on forsaken ground
Awaken to the truth and sleep no more
Or risk the slaying of heart’s beating core
—THE BOOK OF UNVEILING
The blade separated skin from body with ease revealing solid, pale flesh. Zeli wielded the small knife expertly; flaying potatoes was an art. She and nearly a dozen other workers sat around the kitchen table, a mountain of potatoes before them. Though it wasn’t her job, she’d made the mistake of entering the kitchen as the endeavor was beginning and had been roped into helping by the indomitable cook.
Outside, a steady rain fell. In one corner, water plinked into a bucket from a leak in the roof. Zeli tossed a naked potato onto the pile and picked up her next victim.
The outer door swung open revealing a soaked Gladda, who entered bearing a large, empty basket. She removed her cloak, shook it out, and hung it on a peg next to the fireplace. Then she took one look at the assembly line of peelers and ducked down the hallway.
“Smart woman,” one of the grooms mumbled. No estate worker was exempt when peeling time came.
“Where does she go with all that food?” Zeli wondered out loud. The kitchen maid next to her looked at her questioningly. Fahna was a year or two older than Zeli and had penciled her eyebrows in comically large arches.
“You’ve never noticed Gladda taking baskets of food out of the kitchen before?”
“No.” Fahna shook her head. “Then again, I always mind my business.”
Zeli held back a snort. The maid was one of the biggest gossips on the entire estate, but all of the staff were very loyal to Gladda. Though curious, she was relieved that the rumor mill didn’t extend to the woman’s actions.
The mountain slowly shrank, and soon the cook and her assistants began the process of making potato starch. Zeli’s contribution to the effort complete, she washed her hands and went off to check on Devana and the girls. The rainy day meant indoor activities, probably involving Devana’s wardrobe and cosmetics.
Sure enough, she found them all in Devana’s suite, both sisters seated amidst a sea of pillows and cushions, dressed and painted like delicate little dolls. Several paces away, Devana leaned into an easel, attempting to paint the girls into lifelike images. Her skill as an artist was middling at best, but as Zeli entered, she praised her mistress’s effort.
“They’re so … vibrant and colorful! How lovely.”
“And look!” Devana exclaimed, beaming. “I’ve finally gotten my shading just right. See the way the light is hitting the little one just right? I think I’ve really captured it.”
Zeli wasn’t sure that Devana quite knew the girls’ names, as she always called them “the little one” or “the bigger one.” “Yes, you’ve done a wonderful job. How long have you been at it?”
“Oh, just a few hours,” Devana said.
Zeli pursed her lips. “Maybe the girls would like a break?”
The sisters nodded emphatically, and Devana sighed. “All right, a short one. But we mustn’t lose the light.”
The children scampered off, likely to find a privy, and Zeli sat next to the easel.
“Have you heard?” Devana squealed.
“Heard what?”
“The guru himself will be at dinner this evening. Father told me so.” She bounced up and down and clapped her hands together delightedly.
“Well, that should prove interesting. I didn’t realize he ate. Isn’t that too material for him?”
“Stop teasing. He’s a great man.”
Zeli’s previous lukewarm feelings about the guru were further impacted by what had happened to her during his revival. She tried to brush off the resentment; it was irrational to blame the guru himself for the nabbers, but her unease surrounding the man persisted. Devana began to talk about how wonderful the event had been—apparently she’d been so enthralled by the lecture, she didn’t even realize Zeli had been captured for quite some time. It was Kerym who’d noticed and began the search, while Devana continued to enjoy the festivities.
By dinnertime, Zeli had heard every detail of the revival’s singing, dancing, speeches, and meditations. Devana’s obsession with the Avinids and the guru in particular was troubling, but Zeli knew not to do more than smile and nod.
The dining hall swelled with guests eager to make the acquaintance of the “wise man of the west.” Though she wouldn’t have expected an Avinid to hold any rank of consequence, the old man was seated at a place of distinction at the table. The placement was doubly odd since the Magister did not profess a particular affinity for the sect. In fact, he had long been critical of the group, but he must have had a change of heart, for he greeted the elder like a long-lost friend.
Kerym entered with the other Ephors. Zeli’s gaze lingered on him no matter how hard she tried not to look. He was dashing in a formal, royal blue tunic with silver thread. When she managed to look away it was to find Yalisa’s smirking face silently mocking her. Zeli ducked her head and busied herself with her duties.
A griot had been invited to the occasion and was set up in the center of the room with her luda. She began with a story of a race between the Master of Bobcats and the Mistress of Horses. It was light and comical and kept the guests laughing in their seats.
Next she sang an epic song about the Poison Flame. “From Laketown to Checkpoint Eight to One and back again,” she crooned, “from Scald to Gelid ere she roams to spread her deadly plan. From mountain west to mountain east, you cannot hide or flee. There is no place of safety once she sets her sights on thee. She’ll stop your heart without a care, best grab the shovel and sack. The Poison Flame will burn you up, your eyes will fade to black.”
A bit morbid for dinner perhaps, and the subject matter adhered a little too near to what had happened at the last big gathering for Zeli’s liking—the Poison Flame only came for payrollers the True Father had issue with—but the guests seemed to enjoy it.
Just after the main course was served, movement behind the columns leading to the courtyard caught her attention. She took the long way around the hall to investigate and was not surprised at all to find Tana and Ulani spying on the meal from their poorly concealed hiding place.
Zeli squatted down behind the girls, unnoticed at first because they were arguing.
“It was her,” Ulani hissed, expression fierce. “I know you don’t believe me, but the Poison Flame killed Papa and also saved us from the nabbers.”
“Just like an invisible dream woman told you to run away from the factory dormitory?” Tana said, exasperated. “And remember when you said a man who shone with light like the sun visited you and you gave him the pomegranate we’d gotten at Mercy Day? Papa blamed me for eating it and I got whipped. You’re too old to keep telling these stories, Ulani-yul. One day these fanciful tales will get you into real trouble.”
Ulani crossed her arms and pouted, looking away. Zeli wasn’t sure what to say to comfort her. Tana was right: listening to these dreams, or whatever they were, would lead to terrible consequences one day.
“No matter what you see or hear, you must promise not to run off again without telling anyone, Ulani-deni. Can you promise?” Zeli said.
Ulani glanced at Zeli from the corner of her eye, lips still protruding. Finally, she relented. “I promise.”
“Thank you. And whether it was the Poison Flame or not who saved you from the first nabbers, you’re not supposed to be here. Devana-mideni might not mind, but her father would. The Magister is a stickler for propriety.”
“But we want to see.” This time it was Tana who pouted.
“You can listen from the courtyard and peer in around the curtains, but that’s all. Now hurry before Gladda-deni finds you. You won’t have apple cake for a week if she catches you where you’re not supposed to be.”
The threat of missing dessert got the sisters moving. The two crept into the courtyard through the open door, where Zeli hoped they would remain out of sight. Devana’s indulgences aside, the girls were servants now and needed to learn what was expected of them.
When Zeli stood, one of the butlers caught her eye and pointed to the stack of soiled napkins on his tray. Zeli nodded her understanding and mouthed that she would go get fresh ones as she was nearest the hallway leading to the cabinet where they were stored.
She’d just retrieved a stack of clean, cloth napkins, when voices in a dark alcove just down the hall rose to greet her. Two men were speaking, but she couldn’t make out exactly what was being said. She closed the cabinet door quietly and peered down into the gloomy passageway, trying to identify the speakers.
The voices remained quiet, and she tiptoed forward. If she was discovered, she had a ready excuse stacked in her arms for being here.
“The time is now,” an older man said—she did not recognize the voice. “Everything is in place for this change to happen.”
“Are you certain? I don’t have the support of the other Ephors.” Zeli’s ears perked up. That was Kerym’s voice.
“Trust me,” the older man said. “The breach is nearly upon us. The king will be otherwise occupied with the war, and will be grateful for the speedy squelching of any unrest in this area. If you can truly unify this region, there are those more powerful than the Ephors who will back you.”
Kerym took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll put my plan into place.”
“With that foolish child?”
“No, I’ll need her. And I’ll thank you not to encourage her attentions. I have someone else in mind.”
“Faith is faith,” the older man said mildly. “I do not control who is moved by the truth I speak.”
Kerym snorted.
The man continued. “Just remember you must strike quickly like a viper or be bitten like one.”
A door slamming shut at the other end of the corridor made Zeli jerk. She turned and rushed back to the dining hall. When Kerym strode back in a few minutes later, she was delivering napkins to the guests in preparation for the dessert course. She scanned the table and found the only other person missing was the guru.
The voice in the hall hadn’t sounded like Waga-nedri’s, it had been strong and robust where the guru always spoke in a soft and reedy tone. But who else could it have been? And what in the Father’s name had they been talking about?
Zeli knocked on Yalisa’s door and waited for the woman to call her in. As she entered, the sweet scent of vanilla filled her nostrils. It reminded her of warm nights in front of Yalisa’s fire. Of dressing up in the woman’s tunics and jewelry the way Devana had never let her do. Of imagining a better, more comfortable life where she was adored and cherished.
Though the Magister didn’t show it in public, behind closed doors he was very tender toward Yalisa. And for her part, the woman seemed to truly care for him. If the small smile she wore when she spoke of him were any indication.
At the moment though, she had cream all over her face, one of her mysterious concoctions that banished wrinkles and kept skin smooth and supple.
“Zeli-yul, I’m glad you came to see me. We have not had time to chat since you returned. And no matter what Devana-deni said, I knew you weren’t holed up somewhere sick. Tell me everything.”
They sat together amidst a cascade of silken pillows while Zeli recounted her tale of being nabbed. She told Yalisa what she hadn’t told Devana—of the dread that weighed more than the chains, of her hopelessness and desperation. Of trying to help the girls and keep the spirits up of the others in the factory. Of Mengu and the cold fear she’d had when he was near.
Yalisa listened quietly and held Zeli when she cried. “There, there, uli,” she said. “You did the right thing. And it was very nice of Kerym-deni to send his man for you. Why do you think he did it?” Her voice was soft and comforting, but the question was asked a little too innocently.
“I-I’m not sure. I’d thought Devana-mideni begged him to. She couldn’t very well ask her father for help without telling him that she snuck away in the first place. But now, I’m not so sure. She didn’t even realize I was gone until Kerym-mideni told her. And she said he brought her the telegram, when I’d sent it to her in the first place. How would he have gotten it?”
“You’ll find that Kerym-deni sees everything and knows much that you wouldn’t expect.” Her words had an edge to them. “Don’t let your feelings for him cloud your judgement, uli.”
“I’m not daft. I know he isn’t meant for me, it’s just—” How could she explain it? “He is noble and good and kind. Is that not how the Magister acts with you? I think that maybe if I have his favor, he would not be opposed to one of his friends elevating me, the way the Magister did with you.”
Yalisa’s smile was strained. “Don’t you want more for yourself than to be a rich man’s whore?”
Zeli flinched, blinking rapidly. “That’s, that’s not … You’re not…” She couldn’t believe Yalisa would call herself such.
“What is the difference between the True Father’s harems and what the favored do? That man who wanted the little girls, do you not think he was trying to emulate the king’s harems? Isn’t that what the Magister is doing with me?” She chuckled. “At least he’s never looked at a child that way.”
“But he has only you.” Disbelief strained her vision.
Yalisa shook her head, eyes heavy. “No, I’m the only one with the privilege of living here. He shows me off at his dinners like a jewel or a fancy new contraption he’s acquired, but there are others. Always others.”
“Yes, but as you say, you live here. Your rooms are fine and you wear beautiful clothes and don’t have to serve—”
“You think I don’t serve?” She laughed harshly. “I have done you a disservice all these years. I’ve allowed you to think that this life was full of glamour because I couldn’t stand to crush your dreams or see you disappointed.” She stroked her cheek. “Please forgive me. You imagine that my life is something it’s not. There are many ways to serve, and being one of the favored is stepping into a nest of hornets.”
Her gaze grew distant. “You may survive for a while, but it’s only a matter of time before you are stung.”
The hushed words of the guru in the hall came to mind. Strike like a viper or be bitten like one.
Yalisa focused on Zeli again. “They backstab and fight one another for the king’s favor. None of us are truly safe.”
“But I’m not safe now. A servant can be tossed aside like common trash. Doesn’t the fact that Kerym-mideni sent for me mean that I have a chance for more?”
Yalisa held her close to her chest, in an embrace that reminded her of her mama’s. “More is what I’m worried about, little swan. More is not always better.”
Zeli held on as tightly as she dared, still not quite believing Yalisa’s words. If she didn’t dream of more, then she’d have to accept that her whole life would be spent as a lowly maid. She couldn’t do that.
As Yalisa continued to rock her, the last remaining bracelet on Zeli’s wrist fell away, crumbling onto the satin pillow.