Sura noticed several members of the crowd throwing not-so-subtle glances in her direction, surely enjoying her shock. She forced her face into stoicism, a skill learned from a decade of dealing with Descendant soldiers.
The attendants stepped forward, each with a pile of clothes. Slowly, ritually, Dravek and Kara dressed each other, taking turns, one garment at a time.
Elora leaned over and whispered to Sura, “It’s to symbolize the journey from promiscuity to monogamy, and also shows that they have nothing to hide from each other or from us. A very old tradition, recently revived.”
Sura had a sudden horrible thought. “Did you and Tereus—”
“No.” Elora rolled her eyes. “This ritual’s for native Kalindons only. We’d never foist this on an Asermon.”
At last the bride and groom stood together, Kara in a soft violet gown and matching slippers, and Dravek in a new white shirt and black trousers, along with black boots so shiny they reflected the sparks from the bonfire.
A middle-aged woman stepped forward to address the crowd. Sura recognized her as Thera the Hawk, Etarek’s mother.
“Welcome,” she said in a strong, throaty voice. “A Kalindon wedding is a rare and sacred occasion. Among our animal counterparts, there are those who mate not just for an hour, a day or a season, but for life. The Wolf, for instance—” she extended a graceful hand toward Kara “—often remains with a mate until one of them dies. A Wolf person’s strengths of loyalty, passion and devotion to family come to fruition in marriage.”
Sura wondered how Thera would address Dravek’s Spirit, since snakes in the wild typically didn’t stay with a mate for more than a few minutes.
“Other people’s Spirits have natural associates, who, in the interest of survival and propagation, spend their lives with several, if not dozens of mates.”
Dravek’s cheeks reddened, or maybe it was just the flames dancing over his face. A woman behind Sura whispered a bawdy comment to her friend that broke them into suppressed laughter.
Thera laid her hand on Dravek’s shoulder—not an easy feat considering the difference in their heights—and raised her voice above the crowd’s murmurs.
“Our groom proves that we are more than our Spirits. We cannot rely solely on instinct, or blame our Animal nature when we err. The ability to choose is what makes us human.
“As I have counseled this couple—and believe me, I counseled them very hard—” she let a small smile slip through in response to the crowd’s laughter “—I can say with full confidence that Dravek and Kara are equally committed to making this marriage last a lifetime.”
Sura saw the tightness around Dravek’s eyes and mouth and wondered if these counseling sessions had taken place before her own arrival.
“Soon they will be bound together,” Thera continued, “in body and soul. But first they will recite a set of vows whose power lies in their simplicity. Let us keep perfect silence so that we, the forest and the Spirits may all bear witness.”
She stepped back and nodded to Kara. The Wolf woman gazed up at Dravek and took his hands. Her beaming smile disappeared as she stared solemnly into his eyes. Dravek began to blink rapidly, and Sura thought she saw a corner of his jaw twitch.
“Dravek,” Kara’s high-pitched voice rang clear. “In the name of Wolf, I promise to love you forever.” The final word dropped as heavy as a stone.
Dravek let go of Kara suddenly. She looked down in surprise, but he drew up her chin to look at him. He clasped her face in both hands.
“Kara, in the name of Snake, I promise to love you.” His jaw clenched, and a palpable tension spread through the crowd. “Forever,” he choked out at last.
He moved to kiss her, but Thera cleared her throat. She held up a long, wide white ribbon. The firelight glinted off its silky smooth surface.
Dravek and Kara clasped each other’s bare forearms near the elbow. Chanting, Thera wound the ribbon to bind them together on one side, Dravek’s right arm to Kara’s left. She let the ends drift and flutter in the breeze like flags.
Thera’s apprentice handed her a red ribbon. She bound Dravek’s left arm to Kara’s right, in the same pattern as the white one but much more tightly, and she left no ends to dangle.
Sura gave Elora an inquiring glance. The Otter whispered, “White symbolizes joy and ease. The happy days awaiting them.”
“And the red?” She was afraid to ask.
“Suffering. Conflict. It’s tighter than the white one because these things bind us closer as husband and wife. You don’t know how strong a love is until you’ve lost something together.”
Thera came forth with a final ribbon, as black as a moonless sky. She tucked one end inside the loop of the red ribbon, then circled the couple, chanting with her apprentice. The black ribbon bound their bodies together, from shoulders to knees.
Elora leaned over. “Marriage should only be dissolved by death.”
Sura nodded, fighting to keep her face serene and her eyes dry.
Thera finished the chant, then placed her hands on the couple’s shoulders. “In the storms of life, may you take shelter in each other. You are wedded forever.”
She nodded to Dravek, and he turned his fiery gaze on his wife. He kissed her hard, and Sura closed her eyes, ashamed of the way her own stomach plummeted. What had she expected? That he would cast aside the woman he loved for the sake of a lust that could never be consummated, much less honored?
When she opened her eyes, Dravek and Kara were still kissing, bodies melded together. The torch closest to the bride and groom began to flicker and flare, though there was no breeze. Sura looked around to see if anyone else had noticed.
Thera brought forth a knife with a long, thin blade. With several short, swift strokes, she sliced the black ribbon, which fell in shreds at their feet. They continued to kiss.
At a signal from the bride’s parents, Etarek struck his sticks together to count off, and the music began. Kara broke the kiss and grinned up at her new husband. Bound at the arms, the couple danced a set of intricate steps, eyes locked on each other. Upon the second verse, the crowd joined them in pairs, whereupon Sura was relieved to retreat.
In the first hour of the celebration, several men approached her to dance, but her body was too tight with apprehension to catch the rhythm. So she politely refused the men—less politely with each invitation—and stood watching on the outskirts, keeping her gaze away from Dravek and Kara.
Someone always seemed to be filling her mug. She diluted the meloxa with lots of honey water, but the sweetness only made her mind sing louder. The drink loosened her enough to tap her toes along with the infectious rhythm.
The song changed to a slower, writhing beat. Sura crossed her arm over her chest and hunched her shoulders to ward off invitations to that sort of dance. Two by two, the Kalindons pressed against each other, hips locked, hands roaming. The sight heated her temples until she thought she might pass out.
Sipping her meloxa, she watched Etarek pound the drum strapped around his neck. He used his hands instead of sticks for this song, lending it the low, primal sound of skin against skin. His hips and shoulders swayed to the throbbing rhythm.
The song built to a thrumming climax, with a flourish of fiddle and drums. On the last beat, Etarek shot a glance at her, catching her staring. He beamed, blue eyes glinting in the torchlight. She threw him a smile, trying to convince herself of her own confidence.
Etarek lifted the strap over his head, handed the drum to another man, then sauntered in her direction. He rubbed his thumbs over his palms as he approached her, and she could imagine the tingling sensation the drum would leave behind. His hands would be warm right now.
When Etarek reached her, he took her mug and examined the emptiness inside. “Enjoying yourself, then.” He handed it back to her. “What do you think of Kalindon weddings?”
“Stimulating.” She looked around at the cavorting villagers. A dozen young men were dancing in a ragged line on one of the lo
ng tables. They stomped so hard, every unattended plate and mug tumbled off. She laughed, her head lightened by the meloxa and the music.
Etarek pulled her to the edge of the clearing. “Dance with me.” He placed her arms around him and started to sway, but her clumsy feet tripped them.
“Relax and let me guide you,” he murmured. “Watch my eyes, not my feet.”
He began to move again. Her body fell into the rhythm, and somehow her feet figured out where to move—not gracefully, but at least in the right direction at the right time.
“See?” he said. “Much better.”
She fumbled for something to say. “If you hear other people’s feelings, isn’t it hard for you to be in a crowd?”
“I can block it if I want, and I usually do. It gives people their privacy, and lets me focus on other things.”
She let her mouth curve into a seductive smile. “What other things?”
“Music, for one.” His arm tightened around her waist. “Try it. Feel the music, nothing else.”
Sura eased her body against his. She tried to let the music flow through her and flatten the fears that the meloxa had heightened and distorted.
Something lay within Etarek’s eyes that soothed and excited her at the same time. She thought back to the vision of the deer at her Bestowing, how happy and free it had made her feel.
It was right to want this man. Maybe later, he could make her forget what Dravek would be doing all night with the woman who had captured his body forever.
Someone small and giggling bumped into them. Sura looked down to see a young boy, maybe eight or nine, stumbling over his own feet. Kara grabbed his hands and gave Sura and Etarek an apologetic grin before whirling away with him.
“That’s her little brother.” Etarek smiled at them. “Must be the siblings’ dance.” He tilted his chin over Sura’s shoulder. “Yes, there’s Dravek and Daria, looking like they want to kill each other.”
Sura didn’t look. When Etarek turned back to her, she said, “You think Dravek and Kara will be happy? Their Animals are so different.”
Etarek’s eyes turned sad as he watched Kara whirl by with her little brother, the white ribbon fluttering from her right arm. “I can’t say.” Then his mouth twitched. “Tonight they’ll be happy, at least. Did Elora tell you what they do with those ribbons on their wedding night?”
“No, but I can guess.” Sura fought to steady her voice. “They tie each other to the bed?”
He looked impressed at her imagination. “You’re right. One at a time.”
“Who goes first?”
“That’s a secret only they know. I’ve heard that the person who holds more power in the marriage is bound first.”
She tried to sound casual. “And between Dravek and Kara—”
“Before tonight I would’ve said he did for sure. But when they took their vows, I heard a shadow of fear in his voice. From now on, I think she’ll gain power and he’ll lose it.”
“Shouldn’t a relationship be between equals?”
“It’s not the people who aren’t equal. It’s their need. There’s always one who can’t live without the other just a little bit harder.”
Sura thought of Mathias. Would he have wanted to claw out his own heart if she had been the one to perish in the fire instead of him? She doubted it.
“Let’s not talk about them anymore.” Etarek’s gaze roamed her face, holding a hunger for more than a dance. It rekindled the longing born within her when she’d watched him play. It was time to put both Mathias and Dravek out of her mind. One was dead; the other might as well be.
She felt her heat flow into Etarek. Pressed against his hip, her body finally found the rhythm. Her shoulders loosened, swaying and tilting with his. The music seeped into her blood and made it pump and sing with a new urgency.
Just as she was about to suggest they take their dance to a more private, shadowy place, the song changed, into a fast rhythm that made her jaw drop.
Etarek let go of her. “Time to eat.”
She followed him out of the dancing area as a half-dozen Cats tripped a complex series of steps, leaping, turning and flipping, connecting body parts in ways Sura would’ve thought impossible.
Daria bounced by them on the way to the clearing. She turned her head as she passed and curled her finger in Etarek’s direction. He shook his head and turned away. Daria jutted out her jaw, then entered the dance circle with a flounce. Sura watched her move, wondering what else such a lithe body could do and what it had done with Etarek.
He gestured to the empty end of a long table. She sat on the bench with her back to the bonfire. Etarek rounded up two large, mostly clean plates and filled them with acorns, berries and strips of roasted meat.
He placed the plate in front of Sura and sat across the table from her. “Do you have a mate in Asermos?”
Her appetite fled. She pushed her plate away. “He was killed last year. Descendants, of course.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Etarek set down his fork and sighed. “That makes this sound even more inappropriate than it already is.”
She tilted her head, making it swim from the meloxa. “What?”
He blew out a tight breath. “May I sit next to you for this?”
She nodded to her bench. He came over and straddled it, facing her. Slowly his hand reached for hers, and she let him take it, hearing her pulse pound louder than the bonfire drums.
“This is going to sound very strange, considering we’ve only known each other eight days.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his lower lip, pinching it into a vertical crease. “Thing is, our people need my mother to—and for her to—I need to—”
“There you are, Etarek.” Adrek approached with Kara’s parents. “Everyone’s asking for the Spirit Dance.”
Etarek grimaced and looked up at them. “Give me a moment.”
“Now,” Kara’s mother said, “or there’ll be a riot.” She winked at Sura, who smiled back, though she had no idea what they were talking about.
“Fine,” Etarek said. “Next song.” They moved away, and he stood up, heaving a harsh sigh. “We’ll finish this in a few minutes. After you dance with Dravek.”
Sura jolted. “I can’t dance with Dravek.”
“I’ll make it a slow song so you can follow the steps.”
She rubbed the back of her neck, which was heating at the thought. “But why do I have to?”
“No one can leave before the bride and groom, and they can’t leave until they dance with their Spirit-siblings.”
She looked around at the copious food and drink. “The party’s almost over?”
“No, not for another two or three days. People just want to leave to go do…other things, and come back.”
“What other things?”
“Sex.” He cleared his throat and rested his hands on his hips. “But it’s bad form to do it before the bride and groom. People are getting restless, so I have to go play the Spirits’ song and you have to dance with Dravek. Then we can all get back to partying.”
Her throat seemed to grow a lump. “Why not just skip it and let them go to bed?” While I hide in the outhouse.
He shook his head. “In Kalindos, common sense is no match for tradition.” He turned to leave.
“Wait. What were you going to ask me?”
He started to speak, then bit his lip. “Later, when we’re alone.”
She watched him stride back toward the clearing and confer with the other drummer.
Kara ran past, dragging one of her Wolf-brothers, a lanky young blond man. “Spirit Dance!” She spotted Sura. “No excuses, get up there.”
The crowd at the edge of the clearing parted, and Dravek came for her. Sura looked down into her empty meloxa mug, unable to meet his eyes.
His shadow blotted out the light from the closest torch. “Please do this for me,” he said in a low voice.
She looked up at him. He bowed and offered his hand. His eyes were tinged with anti
cipation, as if this dance were one last gift the world had offered them.
Sura stood slowly, untangling her legs from the bench. She took his hand as casually as possible, and they walked back to the clearing together. The music’s beat was slow, as Etarek had promised.
Dravek led her as far from the others as possible. “The dance could last a while. Kara has a lot of Wolf-brothers.”
Sura breathed in deep as she laid a hand on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist.
The bonfire snapped and flared. She looked at it. “Did we do that?”
“Shh. Let’s start before people get suspicious.”
They began to move together, and Sura’s mind turned from desire to embarrassment. “Sorry I’m a bad dancer.”
“I’m glad. Now we have a reason to look awkward.”
She glanced up at him and saw the corner of his mouth tug into a smile. She struggled for words to break the tension.
“Your wife is very nice.”
Dravek threw back his head and laughed. The sound of it made her want to hug him. To others they must have looked like friends.
“What’s so funny?”
“The tone of your voice when you said that. I don’t have to have a Deer’s powers to hear your real meaning.”
“She is nice.”
“Yes, Kara’s wonderful. She’s perfect. She’s everything a man could want in a thousand lifetimes.” He looked past Sura’s face, his eyes going far away. “I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
Her heart leaped. “No, you haven’t. It’s normal to have second thoughts.”
“I’ll never deserve her.”
“Because of what we’ve done? It’s in the past. You’ll go away with her and forget about me, and in a few weeks you’ll wonder why you ever felt this way.”
He nodded, but didn’t look convinced.
She regarded the red ribbon wound around his left arm and imagined it stretching over his skin later as his muscles strained and pulled against the binding in a frenzy of passion.
Her own skin tingled and burned. He drew in a hiss and loosened his grip on her hand. She looked up at him and saw that he had followed her gaze to the ribbon.
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