Child of the Kaites (The Firstborn's Legacy Book 1)

by Beth Wangler

  I love this man.

  “So you see, it’s really amazing luck,” Maylani enthuses after Savi finishes. Only the tense lines of her neck hint at what she’s really feeling. I rest a hand on her arm, hoping she can feel my gratitude and regret. “I know it would have looked a little bad on the family for me to marry a former slave, and I would have been so sad to leave everyone and live on the mainland. Now I don’t have to leave you. And how fortunate we are, that the spirits used us to reunite Raiba and Saviayr after all this time.”

  Tatanda is silent. He sinks onto the nearby couch and, with arms crossed and legs stretched, frowns at the rug. Servants’ footsteps scurry by in the hall. A peal of laughter rises outside, and a harmonicist blows out a few notes of a nursery rhyme. The shutters creak on their hinges.

  “I am deeply grieved for the pain I have caused,” Saviayr adds. “I know I have no right to it, but I do ask your forgiveness.”

  Pitka and Anik’s voices drift through the halls and curtains, too faint to make out their words. A hummingbird sips from the droopy red ocotillo flowers by the window, its wings whirring. I realize I’ve been holding my breath and inhale. Mayli looks over at the sound, worry filling her face.

  “If this is the case,” Tatanda says, and we all jump, “then I would not have you marry Maylani. My brother wed a woman who loved another, and I would not impose that unhappiness on my daughter. I am...glad that you decided this before you were married.

  “Still—” Tatanda sighs, long and deep— “it is an embarrassment and a great expense.”

  Maylani jumps back into cheerfulness. “That’s the best part, Tatanda! You won’t have to waste all the food and other resources that you’ve put into the celebration. If you agree to it, I think Saviayr and Raiba should marry today. None of the preparations will go to waste, and it’ll be such a touching ending to their tragic romance, and everyone here knows how flighty I am. They’ll think it’s just another of my capers. We’ll all be laughing about it soon.”

  Tatanda frowns at her.

  “Just think how generous you’ll look to our neighbors, too,” Mayli says, inching closer to him. “They’ll all praise you when they hear the story. And you’ve been talking with Sandat recently. You know how our people’s dislike of the Maraians is growing even more. If something should happen with their people, won’t you be glad that I’m not married to a Maraian? Especially with our ancestry.”

  At the end, Maylani’s on her knees beside the couch, resting her arms on her father’s lap and turning her most beseeching look up at him.

  Tatanda looks down at her, and his nose flares. Deep lines still mark his forehead, but his normal coloring has returned. “I won’t stop it,” he says.

  He’s never been able to deny Mayli anything. This is the closest I could hope to a blessing from him.

  “Thank you!” Mayli squeals, bouncing up and kissing his cheek. “Come on! Everyone’s waiting.”

  I catch Savi’s hand just before Mayli latches onto my other. She drags us into the hall. “Go on, Saviayr, we’ll be out there,” Maylani orders. “Raiba and I have one more thing to do. Go stand with the Master of Ceremonies.”

  I miss Savi’s touch the moment his hand leaves mine. It’s impossible in the constant Iranine heat, but my hand feels cold. Savi heads toward the front door but turns back. “I’ll see you in just a moment?” he checks.

  My cheeks stretch in a grin. “Yes. I’ll be right out.”

  Savi nods and continues toward the door, but he looks back just as Mayli tugs me down the hall. “Right out, yeah? You won’t leave me waiting?” A lopsided smile lights his face.

  “Yes. I’ll be right there, Savi,” I promise. My face has contorted into a permanent grin.

  Maylani groans. “You two are ridiculous. Go, Saviayr. She’ll be there.”

  Savi looks back once more before we turn a corner. Maylani slows outside her bedroom. She turns to me. Now that I have time to look at her, I see what a toll this has taken on her. Her face is pale, her eyes are pink, and the constant laugh in the corner of her eyes is gone.

  I can’t regret what has happened, but I do regret the way it happened. “Mayli, I’m so sorry.”

  Maylani doesn’t bother with forcing a smile for me. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I am, too. I wish...but wishes are weightless. And just now made me glad, in a way. Raiba, he loves you so much more than he ever loved me.”

  I reach for her. “Mayli, that’s not true.”

  “No, it is. I don’t fault him for it. He loved me well enough, but if I had any doubts that I was doing the right thing, that just erased them. If it were anyone else, I’d call it adorable.” She shakes her head. “But that’s not what I wanted to say. Stay here and close your eyes.”

  I obey—it’s the least I can do. The curtain rustles, and then it rustles again. A weight drifts over my head. The texture under my fingers makes my eyes fly open. Yellow crochet lace surrounds me.

  “Mayli,” I choke out.

  She nods at me. “You’re getting married. You need a bridal shawl.”

  I embrace her, holding my dear cousin as close as I can. “Maylani, you are the kindest person I have ever met.”

  She tisks and pulls back, wiping at her eyes. “You would do the same. Now go on. He’s waiting for you.”

  We leave the villa together, step out into the brilliant sun, and everything happens too quickly to process and not fast enough. I join Savi and the master of ceremonies in the center of two concentric rings. Someone explains to the crowds what’s happening, but I don’t understand their words. My world has narrowed to the man beside me.

  “Hi,” Savi says.

  “Hi.”

  The master of ceremonies starts speaking, reciting the ancient script in Iranine. Then he joins mine and Savi’s hands.

  We are married.

  Most people don’t know Savi, and they have no context for the history of our relationship, but a deafening shout rises the second both of our hands are joined. They surge forward, raising us and bearing us to the tents by the cliffs. They deposit us on raised chairs amid laughter, jests, and shrieks.

  Then the feasting begins. Despite the food they pile before us, I can’t eat more than a couple bites. I’m too happy to feel hungry.

  The faces of our well-wishers blend together. The music starts. Savi’s dragged into the center, forced by custom to dance with every female present who wishes it, but they let me beg off on account of my ankle. Music rolls and dancers stomp until candlelight adds to the glow of the fading sun and Savi finally pulls me away from the others.

  In a lonely corner where the canvas walls dim the light, we face each other. Savi grins at me, and my cheeks hurt from smiling back.

  “How are you feeling, wife?”

  The word sends a thrill through me.

  I quirk my head and try to control my smile. “Well, my ankle’s sore, my stomach’s growling, and—” a well-timed yawn breaks loose— “I’m very tired.”

  Savi brushes his fingers over my cheek, careful of the healing scratches that litter them. “Yeah?” The skin between his eyebrows wrinkles. This close, I see new lines on his forehead, lines that weren’t there when we were younger. Stubble darkens his jaw. That’s new, too.

  I want to feel that change in him myself. I step closer. Savi’s chest brushes our joined hands when he inhales. “And, husband, I’ve never been happier.” I rest my hand on his cheek, running my thumb over the blond bristles there.

  The wrinkles on his brow smooth. Savi’s fingers graze the skin under my ear and slip into my loose hair.

  My heart beats faster.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he murmurs.

  I rest my free hand over his heart. Savi’s breath hitches. I marvel at the muscles I feel, his new strength. “What about you?” I ask.

  Savi laughs. “I’m all right.”

  “Just all right?”

  He rests his forehead on mine. “This is everything I’ve drea
med of.”

  We stand that way for a while, feeling each other’s closeness, breathing each other’s breath. Savi’s fingers slide down, toy with the chain around my neck, and follow it down to my chanavea. I feel him breathe in.

  “Rai, I know you just got it back.”

  I touch my chanavea, and our fingers brush. The charm marks me as belonging to Aia. The kaites made the stone in the center, a swirl of brown and crystal, from the first cry that left my lips. My charm embodies my very essence. That is why Maraians wed by exchanging chanavea. No longer am I simply myself, nor is Saviayr simply himself: We belong to each other.

  Does he really think I would deny him that?

  “Savi, will you exchange chanavea with me?”

  He breathes my name. The look on his face steals my breath.

  A sacred hush blankets our stolen tent corner. I slide the thin chain over my unbound hair. In unison, with a bit of fumbling and breathy laughs, Savi and I slide our charms over each other’s heads.

  “I, Saviayr of the clan of Charn, give myself fully to you. I hold you second only to Aia-Thaies Himself. My love, my loyalty, my protection, and all of my worldly possessions are yours as long as I live.”

  I repeat the vow to him, fingers on my chanavea resting over his heart.

  Savi’s lips part. His head tilts to the side.

  He leans closer, and I forget how to breathe.

  Our lips meet for the first time, warm, chapped. The island melts away. Saviayr is all that exists. My hand slides up to cradle the back of his neck. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close.

  I am his, and he is mine.

  Chapter 16

  Golden dust twirls in lazy eddies under the roof of plastered reeds. A curtain rustles in the unshuttered window. The early cries of the auklets, pigeons, and gulls down at the harbor echo up into the hut. The air is perfectly cool.

  I stretch my arms over my head and settle deeper into the mattress. A weight presses on my stomach. I smile and lightly rest my hand on Savi’s arm encircling my waist.

  Morning has never been more perfect. This is peace.

  Pounding rattles the room. I freeze. Savi bolts up next to me, bleary eyes wide. What is happening? I scoot closer to Savi.

  The pounding stops, then recommences. “Is this normal?” Savi asks, his words still slurred from sleep.

  I don’t have extensive knowledge of marriage hut traditions, but I suspect not.

  “Raiballeon! Saviayr! I know you’re in there.”

  I groan and bury my face in my husband’s side. “It’s Nhardah.”

  Savi’s brow wrinkles. “Who?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” I call to Nhardah. “We’re going today, just like we’d planned. Leave us alone.”

  Another familiar voice—Anik—mutters inarticulate objections; then the Firstborn’s head ducks under the door hanging. The rest of his body follows.

  Saviayr jumps and curses.

  I yank the blankets up. “A little warning next time?” What on Orrock is going on? I repeat, “What is wrong with you!”

  Nhardah’s face is stern. “Get dressed. There’s someone here to see you.”

  “Right now?” I protest. “Can’t you give us a few minutes? You woke us up. Tell Anik we’ll be by the house before we leave.”

  Saviayr points at the Firstborn and looks at me. “Wait, what did you call him?”

  Nhardah-Lev rolls his eyes. “I see Raiballeon didn’t tell you when she realized I’m Nhardah, one of the Firstborn. Now you know, and we have to go.”

  I shake my head. “Slow down, what’s—”

  Saviayr looks between me and Nhardah. “You mean…Firstborn, Lake–of–Living–Water, Neemech–tried–to–kill–him Nhardah? You’re joking.”

  “Who else would I be?” Nhardah answers Savi, then me. “The boy will explain. Come, dress yourselves.”

  “We will if you’ll leave.”

  Nhardah rolls his eyes but ducks back behind the door. As soon as he disappears, Savi and I look at each other and roll out of bed.

  “Hurry,” Anik calls.

  My ankle, still wrapped, itches but does not hurt as much as it did yesterday. I favor it anyways, hopping on one foot to pluck my clothes from the floor. Our formal clothes from yesterday will have to do.

  Savi shrugs on his tunic. “Rai, what’s going on?”

  I pull the maroon dress over my chemise. “So, Lev is actually Nhardah, and you’ve already figured out that I’m planning to free Maraiah, with Aia’s help. Nhardah and I planned to return to Izyphor this morning. I don’t know what’s changed, and I have no idea what Anik’s role is in this.”

  Savi tugs his breeches up under his tunic. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  His sarcasm reminds me of how I’ve kept him in the dark. That must stop now that we’re married. “Probably? I’m sorry. Can it wait till we see what’s going on?” I tie the laces on my golden vest and gather my hair together.

  “I guess it will have to. But you will tell me everything?”

  “I will.”

  “Stop prattling and get out here,” Nhardah calls.

  Anik adds, “You can be gooey with each other later.”

  I blush and tie my sandals. A glance at Saviayr shows he’s dressed. I snatch the yellow shawl, then we step out into the warm sun. Dew from the night rises in steam that blurs the ocean and smells of growing garlic and onions.

  Anik jumps up from where he was crouching. “Thank the spirits. Raiba, you have to leave now.”

  “I was already planning to.” I frown. Why the urgency?

  Anik comes closer. With a hand on my shoulder, he tries to lead me away. “Right now. See, I was with Sandat and the other boys last night at the celebration, and he was getting everyone agitated about the Maraians. I thought it was just the usual big talk, but right before sunrise things got crazy. Raiba, they’re getting a group together to take you prisoner and sell you to the mainland.”

  Ice runs through me. “Sandat,” I spit. I should have known. If that’s true, they’ll be here soon. “My bag—”

  “I gathered both of your belongings,” Nhardah says from where he’s been pacing this whole time. “It’s down at the ferry with Saviayr’s parents.”

  “My parents?”

  “Okay.” I can’t think of anything else keeping us here, except Mayli and Pitka. With Sandat and others after us, though, returning to Tatanda’s house to say goodbye would be too big a risk.

  Nhardah turns mid-pace and glances over us, then nods. “Come,” he says, and takes off down the back of the hill. No path travels this way, so we have to weave from side to side when the ground slopes sharply from decades of winter landslides. “Why not go the front way?” I ask. My sandal slips on loose gravel. Only a quick flail and step save me from falling, but my ankle twinges.

  “Sandat and his group’ll come that way,” Anik answers.

  “Now hush,” Nhardah adds.

  Savi’s hand finds my back and offers extra support. I smile at him. Even though Nhardah and Anik are here, even though we’re running from danger, I want to kiss him. I can kiss him. He’s my husband.

  “Hasten,” Nhardah hisses. I duck my head to hide a grin and scurry over the ruddy soil.

  Nhardah starts whispering. I try to get closer, but his long strides outstrip my shorter legs. A breeze carries a few of his words back. “Aia ninisav. Thaies fait garnosh i karoeth.”

  He’s whispering prayers for protection.

  As we reach the foot of the hill, Saviayr’s hand drops from my back. I glance behind. He’s standing still, eyes wide and face white. Savi’s mouth opens and shuts like he wants to say something but can’t. Anik stumbles to a stop behind him.

  I hesitate. “Savi, what is it?”

  He swallows. “I—I’m afraid. Rai, I don’t...it just came over me. I’m really afraid.”

  I grab Saviayr’s hand. Moments earlier, he was warm from sleeping. Now, his hand is cold like a pewter dish dunke
d in the winter sea. I rub it and notice his shaking. “I know. But Aia will protect us. Come on.”

  Savi doesn’t move. “I can’t,” he chokes.

  I pull at him, growing impatient. “You’re fine. The biggest danger is staying here. Come on, we’ll get to safety if you’ll just come now.”

  He shuffles a foot forward, then goes rigid. The usual pink flush under his skin drains away.

  Savi’s terror seems like it’s spreading to me. I bite my lip. “Nhardah? There’s...something wrong.”

  Dry brush crunches behind me. Nhardah pokes his head in Savi’s face, then scowls. “I should have known,” he mutters.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “An aivenkaite’s whispering to him,” Nhardah answers. “Must have snuck out of the battle.”

  The full force of fear hammers through me, but it doesn’t feel supernatural. I was terrified the other night when aivenkaites were attacking me, and they were just physical threats then. An aivenkaite whispering lies to Savi is even worse.

  “Help him,” I beg the Firstborn. “Isn’t there anything we can—it’s an aivenkaite! Where are the kaites?”

  Nhardah doesn’t answer, just stares intently into Savi’s eyes. The mahogany of Nhardah’s irises almost glows. A ruthless smile contorts his face. He declares, “Giel, I call you by name. By the power of Aia-Thaies, the Creator of all of us, I command you, Fear, to leave.”

  Savi scrunches his eyes shut.

  I squeeze his hands. “Don’t listen to it, dorni, dearest. Aia will be with us.”

  Veins stand out on Savi’s forehead. A shudder passes through him.

  “You are not welcome here.” Nhardah’s voice rises, full of authority. “Fear, be gone. We are the children of Aia-Thaies.”

  Savi’s eyes open, and the pallor leaves his skin. He takes a deep breath and starts forward again, as suddenly as he stopped. “Thank you. The fear is gone. I’m okay.”