CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
What would you do for someone that you love?
Bury your pride, no matter what the cost?
Help right a wrong that causes them such pain
And in so doing guarantee your loss?
A stranger once and future paid this price
To gift a rival with the light of life
—THE BOOK OF UNVEILING
Zeli entered Devana’s suite that morning, surprised to find her mistress packing. “Are we headed on another trip?” she asked, anxiety quickening her heartbeat.
Devana turned, her expression unusually placid. “No. You’re staying here to cover for me. If anyone asks, I’m in the bath, or painting my nails, or at the spa and not to be disturbed.”
Zeli froze. “For how long?”
“Until I’m too far away to catch.”
She blinked rapidly, sorting through the torrent of questions bubbling up. “Where are you going, by yourself, that you don’t want to be caught?”
Devana leaned in, more grave than Zeli had ever seen. “I’m going with the guru. He and I had a long talk late last night and he imparted so much wisdom to me. I’m going to follow him as one of his acolytes. Travel the land and help teach others about the Void.”
“H-he invited you?”
“Well, not exactly.” Devana frowned. “But his caravan leaves in an hour and once I stow away, he won’t very well send me back.”
A few moments passed before Zeli could speak. She couldn’t banish the vision of the guru conspiring with Kerym in a dark corner. She knew the old man was quite a bit more than he appeared. Fear for Devana gripped her.
“The Magister will find out eventually. When he does—”
Devana waved her off. “Father will have a few moments of heartache, to be sure, but I’m following a spiritual mission. He’s going to have to respect that.”
Zeli wasn’t so sure. “And what about Kerym-mideni?”
Devana looked down, her mouth drawn. “Kerym-deni is a wonderful man. I would have loved being married to him. He’ll be the next Magister, you know?” A fleeting look of longing crossed her face before the determination set in again. “But I’ve got to follow my heart.”
A wave of dizziness crashed into Zeli. She swayed in place for a moment while Devana turned back to her packing. The girl had never packed her own bag in her life, and yet here she was, resolved to live a life of independence.
Zeli wanted to be proud. Devana had always been stubborn, but she’d grown up so privileged. For however long this lasted, the desire to aid others and be a part of something bigger than herself could be a good thing. But Zeli’s natural optimism warred with her knowledge of her mistress. And more so, her suspicions about the guru.
Who knew what sort of man he was really, under the veneer of spirituality and peace? The words she recalled him speaking to Kerym stank of a greater political involvement than the Avinids were known for.
Devana was nearly ready to go. Amazingly, she’d kept the bag light; it would be easily manageable on her own. She was only taking her simplest tunics—which would no doubt be replaced by garishly colorful ones—sturdy shoes, and a warm coat. No jewels or face paints or other non-essentials. Her mind was made up and no amount of pleading on Zeli’s part could change it.
Devana faced her, holding her shoulders. “You’ve been a great friend to me, Tarazeli-deni. I wish you peace and the pursuit of the Void. This is a higher calling,” she said solemnly, and Zeli couldn’t protest. She managed a half-smile as Devana hoisted the bag to her shoulder.
The two girls stared at one another, one last time. “May we greet one another again,” Zeli whispered.
Devana repeated the words of leave-taking and then she was gone. Out the door to the courtyard and down the covered passageway to the shadowy side door out of the estate. Zeli wondered where her journey would lead; Devana had always wanted to have adventures.
Zeli stood in the courtyard watching the door, just in case the girl decided to come back, when a scream rent the air. It wasn’t particularly close, but it lingered, intensifying with blood-curdling potency.
Zeli ran toward the sound, which seemed to be coming from the kitchen. There she found Fahna, the gossipy kitchen maid, standing in the center of the room, holding one hand in another, blood dripping from her fisted palm. The cook and undercook had backed themselves into a corner and all three were staring at a desert sidewinder slithering across the brick floor.
The deadly snake darted toward the doorway Zeli had just run through, attracted to her movement. She grabbed the first thing she saw, a large, empty basket next to the door and upended it over the snake, trapping it inside. Then she sat on the basket, trying to catch her breath.
“Are you all right?” she asked Fahna.
The girl had turned ashen, gray undertones cooling her warm skin tone. “When I saw it, my hand slipped.” She motioned to the knife and cutting board on the counter, blood pooling around the onions she’d been chopping.
She began to sway on her feet as a handful of other servants rushed in through the opposite door. The cook recovered quickly and ordered Fahna to sit down.
“Keep your hand fisted. Hold it tight,” the woman commanded. “Everyone else, out!” Though her voice was harsh and usually obeyed, this time nobody moved.
Ulani rushed in from the courtyard and peeked her head between two footmen, before creeping to Fahna’s side. The cook didn’t appear to notice the little girl, fussing as she was with the injured woman’s hand. Ulani stood silently and closed her eyes. When she opened them moments later, she touched Fahna’s shoulder.
“It’s okay now,” the girl said.
A look of shock on her face, Fahna opened her hand. Blood still coated it, but she flexed and tensed, and then took a deep breath, laughing nervously. “It is. The wound is gone.”
The other servants looked on in wonder.
With a touch of envy, Zeli remembered the feeling of Earthsong bubbling inside her. How it felt to connect with the flow of energy and pull it into herself, to hold it inside her Song. The familiar emptiness that had replaced her power after the True Father had taken her Song throbbed now, pulsing with pain and regret.
Normally it didn’t bother her. She could go whole weeks without feeling that hollow sensation within. But it always came back. She shook herself and focused on the scene before her. Gladda had appeared, pulling Ulani into a half-embrace and talking sternly to the staff.
“No one mentions this, not to the Magister or anyone else. You two, clean up the blood.” She motioned to a pair of maids. “Fahna-deni, go lay down for a bit, you’ve had quite a shock. Cook, finish the morning meal. Not one word.”
Gladda’s instructions were followed with alacrity. She led Ulani into the corner and squatted down before her. “It’s dangerous to show your power like that, you know?”
Ulani frowned. “Papa said I wouldn’t have to give tribute until I was older,” she whispered. “He said he liked having a Singer in the household.” Tana had moved in next to her, fists clenched, her face severe. Judging by her scarred body, it was clear that Ulani had not often been allowed to heal her sister.
“I know you wanted to help,” Gladda said, “and I’m sure Fahna-deni is grateful, but the Magister doesn’t like Earthsong. Tributes are given early in this household. If he hears of this, you’ll be sent away to Sayya to see the king, you understand?”
Ulani nodded, shuddering. Gladda drew her close and wrapped her in an embrace. “It’s all right, child,” she cooed. “Just be very careful from now on, all right?” She drew Tana into the hug, and the girl didn’t protest.
Zeli took that moment to slide a board under the basket to trap the snake and then turn the whole thing over, shut the lid, and secure it.
“I’ll take this down to the market,” she announced, though no one was paying attention to her. Sidewinder venom was used by apothecaries in many of their cures. They paid well for live specimens, which they could milk. Though she shivered at the thought, leaving now had the added benefit of putting off any questioning she might encounter about Devana’s whereabouts.
She hefted the large basket into her arms and rushed out the door.
At this early hour, the market was still waking up for the day. Vendors were rolling back awnings and opening shutters. Zeli walked with no great speed toward the side of the square that held the largest apothecary. As she crossed the street, her way was blocked by a middle-aged woman with closely cut hair and deep circles under her eyes.
Zeli stepped back warily. The woman was dressed plainly, but didn’t appear to be a beggar.
“Did Gladda send you?” the woman asked. At Zeli’s confused expression, she motioned to the basket.
Zeli looked down, realizing this was the same painted basket that Gladda often disappeared with. She pulled back sharply and shook her head, then scrutinized the woman more carefully. Her oval face held kind eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and a wide mouth, which broadened into a grin.
“You’re Yarrink and Sefa’s child, aren’t you?” the woman asked.
Shock stole Zeli’s vocal cords for a moment. “Y-you knew my parents?”
“Of course.” She looked around, her gaze taking in the entire square in seconds. Though the market was still largely empty, more people were beginning to arrive. “Tell Gladda that Fakera says there are only two days left.”
“Two days left?” Zeli repeated, dumbly.
Fakera nodded, then turned and disappeared. A gust of wind came out of nowhere, kicking up a torrent of dust. But it didn’t reach Zeli’s nose or mouth as she would have expected. And then the wind and dust died down just as fast as they’d come.
Only an Earthsinger could do something like that.
Zeli stood with her feet glued to the paving stones. What was happening for two more days?
What was Gladda up to?
When Zeli returned to the estate, Gladda was nowhere to be found. Oddly relieved by that, she retreated to Devana’s suite to hide. Fortunately, the Magister had been invited to a dinner at one of the Ephor’s homes. Devana would not have attended had she been here, so Zeli would be blessedly saved from questions about her mistress’s whereabouts for at least a night.
Or so she’d thought.
An hour before bedtime, a page boy rapped on the door leading to the courtyard. Zeli opened the door a crack and peeked out.
“Kerym-mideni is here for Devana-mideni,” the boy said.
Zeli’s shoulders slumped. She should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. She followed the page to the same side door that Devana had left out of that morning.
Kerym stood in the archway, illuminated by moonlight. His eyes twinkled merrily, and he gripped a bouquet of lavender, red, and yellow coneflowers in his fist. They were Devana’s favorite.
Zeli sighed. “She was not expecting you,” she said, her voice small.
“Well, no,” he said, laughing. “That’s why it’s called a surprise. Besides, I know the Magister will be away until the early morning. What better time for a visit?”
If Devana had been there, she would have welcomed him and praised his clever timing. Zeli would have spent the evening on her crowded bed, imagining what the two of them were getting up to all alone. But Devana was not here.
“I’m sorry, but Devana-mideni is … indisposed. One of her … twelve-hour beauty treatments. She cannot be disturbed.”
Kerym narrowed his eyes and stepped through the doorway, bringing him closer to her. Zeli took a small step back.
“You know you’re a terrible liar, Zeli-deni, I don’t know why Devana-deni would ask you to. Where is she really?”
Zeli kept her mouth closed. She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing tightly. Kerym’s gaze dropped, whether to her arms or her breasts, which had been raised by the motion, she wasn’t sure, but the very thought made her cheeks flame.
“When will she be back?” He took another step closer, and she moved back again. But she didn’t respond, sealing her lips shut into a firm line. She was a bad liar and had no desire to lie to him anyway. It had been nearly a full day; was that long enough for Devana to get away?
Kerym sighed and leaned a shoulder against the wall, flowers held casually. The action put a few needed breaths of space between them. “Has she done something stupid?”
Her face must have betrayed some emotion for Kerym shook his head and sighed. “Tell me so I can fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix,” she said. Devana had made her choice.
Kerym ran a hand across his forehead, breathing deeply. “I suppose you’re right. Whatever she’s done, we’ll simply have to deal with it.” He smiled, revealing sharp, white teeth. “I just wish she were half as sensible as you.”
Zeli’s breath jerked. Kerym was staring at her, looking thoughtful. She swallowed and willed her heart to stop racing.
“Is she in danger? Can you tell me that at least?” he pleaded.
“I hope not.” Her mouth snapped shut, horrified that she’d let even that much slip out.
Kerym stood to his full height, towering over her, and held the flowers out. “Shame for these to go to waste then.”
Zeli shook her head, hands itching for the bouquet, but knowing it wasn’t proper. “I-I couldn’t.”
“Please take them. Otherwise they’ll just go in the trash.” His eyes were lit from within with hope. Did she dare?
Against her will, her hand reached forward to grasp the flowers’ stems. She brushed Kerym’s fingertips as he passed them off to her, and her skin burned from the contact.
She’d never received flowers before. Even those meant for another. Her imagination would run wild, dreaming up scenarios in which these beautiful blossoms had been really destined for her all along. Her dreams would be sweet for a week.
“May we greet one another again, Zeli-deni,” Kerym said with a short bow, walking backward to the door and then out into the night.
Forgetting her desire to avoid everyone in the house, Zeli ran straight to Yalisa’s room, flowers clutched like a trophy in her hand. She knocked on the woman’s door and when she received no response, knocked again.
Finally, she peeked in, to find the room dark. Perhaps she’d gone with the Magister to dinner? It was unusual for him to escort her off of the estate, but not unprecedented. Zeli had wanted to share what had just happened and ask about Yalisa’s method of keeping flowers fresh. It involved dipping the cut stems into hot and cold water, but she couldn’t remember the order or duration. But she would just have to make do.
She ran back to Devana’s room eager to admire the bouquet and go to bed early so she could dream of Kerym.