“There’ve been at least two or three Yom Kippurs since all that happened. Haven’t you atoned enough?”
“I’ve forgiven the invaders because they didn’t know they were killing an unarmed man. I’ve forgiven my uncle because he never intended for Isaac to die. But... I’ve... never even thought about asking for forgiveness for myself. Probably because keeping that guilt helps me hold on to his memory.”
“You’ll still have all the love you both felt for each other.”
“I’d feel like I was disrespecting him.”
“He wouldn’t want you to feel this way. And he wouldn’t want you to have stayed alone so long for his sake.”
Rivka’s face wrinkled into a cranky scowl. “I’m not saving myself for a memory! I just don’t fall in love every five minutes like a lady-in-waiting in some bard’s tale.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Shulamit looked down. “I know it’s not love, but I notice women so easily. Even when I was missing Aviva with all my heart, there were the willing women, the statue, the -- the make-believe trick woman back there....” And I approached you, too, that way at least three times, she added inwardly, glad they were past that.
“That’s not how my mind works,” said Rivka. “And you know, Malkeleh, yes, you’re a little girl-crazy, but I can see it’s different with Aviva. Now that you’re around her, that serious mouth of yours smiles just a little bit more -- your eyes open a little wider -- you just seem more alive.”
“I’m so glad we found her in time!” Then Shulamit instantly felt guilty, because Rivka was still alone.
Rivka must have read the frantic expression on her face because she rubbed the queen’s shoulder affectionately and replied, “Be happy -- don’t worry about me. Remember, there are plenty of real men who are career warriors and remain single. It’s only on a woman that being unmarried looks odd. Like those men, I’ve got plenty of other things to do.” She smiled slightly. “Not many can brag of triumphs and adventures like mine.”
Shulamit took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. “He would be so proud of you.”
The warrior sighed heavily. “It’s dark. We should go back to Aviva.”
***
As Rivka followed the queen back to the sleeping dragon, she was surprised to realize that she actually did feel a little bit better. Maybe it was just allowing herself to think of Isaac that had lightened her mood. Even all these years later, picturing his face or imagining his voice made her feel as if she were full of bubbles. They might be bubbles of searing hot pain at this point, but they still filled her and made her whole.
There was also a beautiful new feeling growing within her as she slowly realized that for the first time in her life, a young person looked up to her and depended on her. So she vowed to honor her dead by being the strong woman Isaac would have been proud to see, and honor her living by being the strong woman Shulamit needed.
***
The next day, Shulamit awoke to find Rivka doing physical exercises around the rocks. “You’re full of energy this morning.”
“I had a great dream,” said Rivka, and she turned a cartwheel.
Shulamit’s eyebrows lifted. “Must have been some dream. I’ve never been able to move around like that.”
“I dreamed about marrying Isaac,” Rivka told her, practically bouncing off the rocks.
“When I wake up from good dreams I’m sad,” Aviva observed. “Often as a child I’d dream that Ima was well again, and then when I woke up and realized she was still in bed, it would crush me.”
“It’s different when someone dies,” Shulamit explained. “I’m happy to dream of my father, because I miss him and that way I get to see him again.”
“What was the wedding like?” Aviva asked.
“I was wearing a fancy dress from my people, and he was in his cassock. We were standing in the empty room back there in the fortress -- the room we figured was intended to trap the enlightened? Anyway, you performed the ceremony”-- she pointed at Shulamit -- “and my mother was there, and she didn’t think my dress had enough jewels on it. And I kept worrying about whether or not I had bathed.” She let out a ribald chuckle, flushing.
Dragon flapped her wings. A powerful wind swirled up around the three women.
“She can fly again!” Shulamit clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “To the holy house!”
“I’m thinking two days. We can leave now, if you’re willing to eat breakfast while we ride.”
Dragon lifted the three of them into the air as they passed old goat meat and tangerines between themselves.
***
They spent the next two days in flight, and Aviva entertained them with colorful renditions of the folktales of the region. When she had exhausted her supply, Shulamit picked up the conversational reins with memories of her father, and Rivka talked of her years in battle fighting in this or that war for this or that king. When they camped again by the lake, they gathered more tangerines for the rest of the journey.
It was nightfall on the second day when they finally reached the holy house. Tamar was standing in the doorway reciting her evening prayer at the moon when the three women, followed by Dragon in her horse form, entered the garden. “Good evening,” Rivka called out.
“You’ve returned, my son! I hope you are well, Your Majesty. Have you been victorious? And who is this?” The old woman hobbled toward them with her arms outstretched in welcome.
Rivka removed the crystal vial from where she had hidden it in her clothing. “Is this the curse blight?”
“Yes!” Tamar beamed. But then she squinted at the bottle. “But, my son, the bottle is empty!”
Rivka bit her lip. “Well, yes. But we have an idea. Actually, it was the queen’s idea.” She held out her hand toward Shulamit.
“If we put the vial deep into the holy water, and then Riv here breaks the front of the vessel, the water will flow down into the courtyard and free everyone at once.” Shulamit's eyes were fixed with nervous intensity on Tamar, and Rivka hoped along with her that her suggestion would go over well.
“But... the holy water...”
“Needs to be put to practical use,” Shulamit pointed out. She took Tamar’s hands in hers. “We must save lives, Sister.”
Tamar nodded solemnly. “Yes, we must.” Then she noticed Aviva again. “This woman is stone, and yet not all stone!”
“He died before he could finish the curse,” Aviva explained.
Tamar’s eyes widened. “Then the sorcerer is dead?”
They explained how the sorcerer died, and how his death and the drought within the bottle were part of the same tale.
“It’s too dark to do this work now,” said Tamar. “I was just about to prepare myself for sleep. Do you wish to sleep upon the roof again?”
“Your Majesty, why don’t you and Aviva take a room inside the temple for tonight,” Rivka suggested. It had occurred to her that the lovers hadn’t been alone, not truly, since their reunion, and she wanted to engineer an opportunity to give them privacy -- even if Aviva was still made out of stone. With any luck, she’d be transformed tomorrow, and then they’d spend another night with the same sleeping arrangements without attracting undue attention. “Now that you have company, and that the sorcerer’s no longer a threat, I hope you feel safer without me guarding you.”
To be honest, she also relished the idea of a night to herself. When Tamar and the girls had finally gone to bed, she curled up against Dragon’s comforting muscles and fell asleep as if blown out like a candle.
***
“Answering, Esther said: if I find favor in your eyes, if the king judges it to be good, then grant to me my soul and my people, in answer to my plea,” Shulamit read, her voice rising dramatically. The only thing she’d found in the temple to read were religious stories, which didn’t surprise her, but that was okay. Even in the mass of male-centered, violent tales, she could still find something that resonated with her.
Aviva list
ened intently from her position of forced repose on the bed in the modest cell Tamar had given them for the duration of their stay. Her head was propped up against what cushions Shulamit had managed to scrounge, and now a loose lock of hair had floated into her face. She attempted unsuccessfully to blow it away. “My hair sticks are gone, aren’t they?”
Shulamit looked up from the book and grimaced. “Yeah, sorry -- I think you were wearing them when we found you, but then the fortress collapsed and Dragon was flying sideways--” She reached out a trembling hand and brushed Aviva’s hair back out of her face. Heat coursed through her body at the intimate contact, but she mentally slapped herself because the sensation felt like taking advantage, given Aviva’s condition.
“Shulamit?” Aviva was looking up at her with large, questioning eyes.
“Hmm?”
“If the power of that moon-juice died with the sorcerer,” Aviva said in a heartfelt voice, “or if the magic runs out and there isn’t enough for me--”
Shulamit instinctively tried to take Aviva’s hands in hers, but then jolted at the feeling of cold stone against her palms. She looked into her eyes. “I’ll still take you back to the palace and keep reading to you. Although you’ll probably have to put up with things like Kefir the Younger’s Observations on Stalagmites until I can find some good fiction for you. You know what kinds of things I usually read!”
“I’ve always admired that about you -- that you want to know everything about your kingdom, even the rocks and plants.” Aviva’s eyes glittered. “That wasn’t what I was going to ask, but I’ll gladly come along. I was going to offer to teach. Even if I can’t hatch out of my egg, I can instruct others. I just need a little help building the trellis -- I can grow my own vine.”
Shulamit exhaled. “Sometimes I can’t even fathom your generosity.”
“Then stop fathoming and get back to reading!” Aviva stuck her tongue out at her.
“You just want me to say the bad guy’s name again so you can go back to making silly noises to drown it out.”
“And you only picked this story because you have honey in your heart for Queen Esther.”
“I guess I have high standards, then,” Shulamit shot back, and returned to squinting at the book in the flickering lantern light.
***
The sun arose on the morning of the magic and bathed the temple in radiance. Shulamit brought breakfast up to Rivka and Dragon on the roof. “I carried Aviva out into the garden so she can be healed with everybody else. I can’t believe how light she is, even though she’s made of rock.”
“Already in a week you’re stronger -- now you can carry a grown woman!” Rivka chuckled.
“A grown woman made of pumice,” Shulamit amended. “I think that’s what they call very light rocks. I read about it in a book on gems. At least she didn’t get turned to gold!”
Rivka, munching on rice, looked out over the courtyard. “Where’s Tamar?”
“Down there.” Shulamit pointed. “She wants to be ready to greet her afflicted sisters when they return to life.”
“Beautiful day for them to wake up to. Hey! Where’re you going?” For Dragon had flapped her wings and lifted off the roof. She landed in the courtyard and returned to her horse form. Rivka soon had her answer as the mare began to graze heartily. “Breakfast time for everyone.”
“I hope Tamar made enough food for the rest of her flock. If not, if any of them are hungry when they come back to life, we’ll have to work fast!”
Rivka took out the nearly empty crystal vial and placed it deep within the center of the calm still pool of holy water.
Shulamit stared down after it, sunlight glinting painfully into her eyes. Impulsively, she dipped one hand into the basin and then cooled her face with the water.
Rivka gave her a sharp glance. “What are you doing?”
Shulamit turned to look at her. “I know I’m not cursed. But if I didn’t try, I’d feel silly later. Just in case.” What would it be like to be able to eat challah again? Or enjoy the savory tanginess of chicken roasted with lemon and herbs?
“Poor Queenling!” Then a change came over Rivka’s face. For a moment, she stood still, staring at the edge of the basin and centering her physical strength. Next, she unsheathed her sword.
Shulamit watched her in impressed awe as the warrior held her sword in both hands, pointed in the air. Rivka was breathing deeply. She might even have been praying.
Shulamit prayed too. The fingers of each hand, down at her side, separated into the hand position that looked like her initial, shin. ש Shehkina, feminine of God. Female strength, do not fail us today.
Rivka raised her sword.
Far away in the courtyard, Tamar looked up at her expectantly.
Down came the blade with a dull bang.
The clay chipped.
Rivka hacked away at the edge of the basin nearest the roof’s edge, until finally a fissure formed. “You’re doing it! It’s working!” Shulamit exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
Again and again Rivka brought her sword down upon the basin, until finally, a chunk came free. Water began to flow. But it wasn’t enough. “Faster!”
Rivka hammered away, until finally--
Splash went the water, carrying away pieces of broken basin with it. The holy water poured down from the roof, draining the broken basin entirely. It flowed into the courtyard, soaking each and every statue, including Aviva -- not to mention Tamar and the horse.
Shulamit watched as color returned to the flesh of the statues. No more were they cold gray; a rich, healthy golden-brown flooded each woman from head to toe. Their simple robes returned to the brilliant mango color of the turmeric that had dyed them, and their hair was once more soft and black. It was incredible. She beheld Aviva stand up of her own accord, and she held out her arms to her beloved. “Aviva!”
Aviva came tripping up the center path toward the temple. “Shulamit! Oh...”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Shulamit admonished her.
Tamar was toddling around between the women, greeting them with tearful, smiling hugs.
Then Shulamit noticed something she hadn’t anticipated. Something was happening to the horse. She had been standing somewhere at the side of the courtyard, but she, too, was transforming -- and not in a way they’d ever seen before.
“Rivka? Look at Dragon -- she’s -- the curse blight is working on her too! She’s not really a horse!” And as Shulamit kept watching, she could barely believe her eyes. The horse’s body was rapidly shrinking into that of a human’s -- and -- “She’s not really a she!”
The queen clapped her hands to her face as the man crouching on the ground where the horse had been straightened his posture and stood to face the roof. He was stocky, tall, and lighter-skinned, like Rivka, with a broad chest and shoulders, muscular arms, and a bit of a stomach. His dark-blond hair was cropped short, and his impish eyes looked up at them from beneath pointed eyebrows on a round face.
Shulamit wheeled around to face the warrior beside her. “Rivka?”
“Isaac?!”
Chapter 16: Has the Dragon a Heart?
One by one, the nuns began to notice the naked man in their midst. Some drew back in fright; others giggled, or hid their faces. Others merely pointed and murmured to those nearest. A few of them, the braver ones who had stood up to the sorcerer, charged toward him with their hand clasped into fists.
“Do not harm him!” Rivka shouted down from the roof. She stood there, as still as a statue herself holding her sword at her side. Finally, the impulsive warrior had encountered a moment that required her to wait and see before acting.
Shulamit, ever the intellectual, couldn’t help peering down at the unclothed wizard. Since she had most recently known him as a female horse, she was relieved -- for Rivka’s sake, of course -- to discover that no damage remained from the years without his own body. He may have been a mare, but now he was -- well, an ordinary human male, with all the usual parts restored.
>
The visibility of those parts was causing a commotion amid the celibate holy women. Finally, one of them removed the headscarf that covered her hair and handed it to him.
He nodded to her in thanks. As she withdrew from him, he knotted it around his waist. Then he held his arms up to the sky.
“Hail this luminous day!” he bellowed, his northern accent a bit stronger than Rivka’s. His piercing blue gaze was fixed directly on Rivka, who watched him from the roof, breathing heavily but otherwise still. “And the hero who awakened me?”
Slowly, Rivka raised the arm that held her sword. The steel glinted in the sunlight.
“Mighty Riv,” Isaac began, his voice this time slightly more cajoling, even slithering, “may I beg of you the fragment of cloth that you wear beneath your helmet? I’m unclothed and I don’t want these good women should turn back to stone if they look upon me.” A mischievous smile followed his words.
“It’s only--” Well, of course he knew what it was! He’d been there the whole time! Without another word, Rivka took off her helmet and unpeeled the charred cassock fragment from her unruly blonde hair. She threw it down into the courtyard, where Aviva caught it and carried it over to the wizard.
He accepted it and manipulated it a few times, tossing it around and around as if trying to find something. With each turn, the fabric grew in his hands until soon it had become a full-sized cassock again. He wrapped it around himself and fastened all the closures, until he stood before Rivka just as he once had, far away in their northern homeland.
Then he lifted his head and spoke once more to the stunned woman on the rooftop.
“Mighty One,” he began. “Three years ago my Wizard Order cursed me into the form of a mare, and I thank you for freeing me from that curse. It was a punishment intended to shame me. Thinking that I had already broken my vows, they declared them forfeit and cast me from the Order. They thought I devised new enchantments to obscure my activities with a certain lady, when they were mistaken and I never broke my vows at all. Now that I’m free of both the curse and of my vows, I ask of you now--”
The Second Mango (The Mangoverse Book 1) Page 12