Ever (8 page)

OLUS

S
HE'S SEEN ME!
Except for the young man who kicked me, no other guest has noticed me, and I'm certain the young man forgot me as soon as he finished applying his foot to my legs.

She saw me! I wonder if she thought about me longer than the young man did. I am thinking ridiculous thoughts, but I hope she liked me. She had no time to form an opinion, and she has much more to think about than me,
but I hope she liked me.

If I sweep much longer, someone will find it odd. The slaves and servants have noticed me already. I don't think I'm in danger from them, as they are unlikely to speak to their masters. I slip back into my wall recess and look for something else to do.

Merem is at the edge of the circle of female dancers, watching Kezi. Aunt Fedo joins her for a while and then moves away. Merem remains. Sometimes she smiles. Sometimes her eyes fill.

Senat watches from the vantage point of the beer vat. I hear him boast to the other drinkers about Kezi's grace and mastery of the dance. He brings the beer straw to his mouth too often and weeps openly. Then he grows silent. He doesn't tell anyone his daughter's fate.

She dances for hours. I imagine carrying her to safety on my strong wind. But I fear that the wrath of Admat would be unleashed against her and her family. If I were sure there was no Admat, I would fear nothing.

I wonder what Hannu and Arduk would think of her.

They'd call her a soap bubble, but what else? A heroic and exquisite soap bubble? A soap bubble worth saving?

It doesn't matter what they think. Somehow I will save her.

KEZI

T
HE SUN SETS.
Torches are lit and held by slaves. I whirl, sway, and step, step, step. While I dance, I am free of my fate. Admat moves with me, and he is eternal.

But finally I need food and drink more than I need to dance. I bow at the waist and stop. Mati wraps a shawl around my shoulders. The night air is cool. The shawl is linen, embroidered with purple thread. I run my palm across the smooth cloth, then touch Mati's cheek to thank her for the shawl. I want to feel everything.

Mati leads me to the feast tables and loads a plate for me with goat cheese, onions and lentils, millet bread, and mutton spiced with mustard.

The bread breaks in my hand—proof of its freshness. I devour it and spear a chunk of mutton with my knife. The mustard is sharp, the mutton moist and gamey, baked to the melting point. I've never tasted anything so good.

The musicians stop playing. I hear Uncle Damki's shout of laughter. A young pig roots under the table. I see its back legs and its spotted rump.

The magnificent slave stands at the end of the table, stacking dirty dishes. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him as I eat.

He collects two tall piles of plates. He'll take the plates and go, although I want him to stay. Like the joy of dancing and the delicious food, his magnificence holds off my grief. I wonder if he belongs to Uncle Damki or to Belet's parents.

He doesn't go—as if he heard me want him not to! Instead he begins to unpile the dishes, re-creating the mess he has just cleaned up.

I'm so surprised, I nudge Mati.

“What is it, love?”

He stops moving.

“Never mind.” I don't want to cause him trouble. I take my last bite of mutton. My plate is empty.

Mati takes it away and entwines her arm in mine. “I
think we should congratulate Belet's parents.”

Her parents have sworn no oath that they mustn't be congratulated. I don't want to see their joy. I don't want to speak about Belet and Uncle Damki, who have years ahead of them. I free my arm from Mati's. “You go.”

“I don't want to leave you.”

“I'll be fine.”

She goes. The slave is piling dishes again. Why?

Several other wedding guests—no one I know—are taking food, but they don't seem to notice him. What if he is invisible to everyone but me? What if he is my guardian, sent by Admat to watch over me in my last days?

I doubt this, but I risk smiling at him.

He drops a plate.

It plummets. But then, in the instant before it strikes the baked mud street, it hovers in the air and comes down softly, unbroken.

OLUS

I
AM FURIOUS
with myself. I didn't intend to use my small wind to catch the plate—I did so automatically.

Kezi is staring openly at me. I shrug and smile apologetically. She doesn't smile back.

When she smiled at me before, I felt we were somehow allies. Our alliance is spoiled now, but she doesn't give me away.

“Kezi!”

She turns. I retrieve the fallen plate.

Aunt Fedo is coming toward her with the fellow who kicked me. “This young man has been begging to be introduced to you.” I see she is proud of herself for bringing him. “He says you are the most beautiful girl here.”

He puts his fist to his forehead to show his respect. “Anywhere,” he says. The fellow kicks slaves, but he is gallant.

Kezi bows her head briefly. I think she doesn't like him either or she would smile.

“Kezi, daughter of Senat and Merem, meet Elon, nephew of Ibal and Gazu.”

He is the man she might have married!

“Are you enjoying the wedding, Kezi?”

“I'm happy for Belet and Uncle Damki.”

Aunt Fedo cocks her head. “My rabbit ears hear my name.” She takes two figs from a bowl on the sweets table and gives one to Kezi and one to Elon. “Soon dates and barley,” she says, smiling conspiratorially at each of them. Then she leaves.

Gallant again, Elon offers his fig to Kezi. She jumps away as if the fig were a scorpion. “I hate figs.” She gives hers to him and wipes her hands against each other.

He eats the figs quickly, seeming to swallow them whole, as a wolf swallows a sand rat.

The singer starts to wail again, and the musicians to play.

“Will you walk with me?” He gestures down the dark avenue, away from the crowd and the torches.

“No, thank you.”

“There is nothing wrong in it. Your aunt Fedo said your esteemed pado will speak with me.”

Her shoulders go up. I think that if she had wings, she would leap into flight. She says nothing.

“Come, I beg of you. I prayed to Admat that you would come.”

She nods.

They walk. It is a black night with no moon, but I can
see them. Kezi's step is graceful. She dances even when she walks.

He adds, “Thanks to Admat.”

“As he wishes, so it will be.”

They fall silent, but there is a little drama in the way they walk. He tries to stay close to her side. She zags away. He zigs near again. They began in the middle of the avenue but swerve toward the wall.

I have piled dishes long enough. I take the broom again. Making silent sweeping motions an inch above the ground, I follow Kezi and Elon. In a moment I am beyond the dim torchlight. My low wind lifts me so my feet are silent too.

KEZI

E
LON SAYS,
“Your necklace is superb.”