Jala's Mask

by Mike Grinti

  The next day, Jala took Azi to her room. “I want to show you something. This won’t take long, I promise.”

  “That’s good,” Azi said. “You know how much I would hate to miss even a moment of politics with my uncle.” He smiled, but he still looked tired. He’d only had a day of rest, and since then he’d been busy preparing for another gathering of the five families. Until the Gana could grow new ships, their raiding routes were up for grabs. It was almost like a second Sectioning. Only there’s no way I can make things worse this time.

  “I was brokenhearted when I heard he didn’t want me to be part of your talks,” Jala said.

  Azi snorted, then took her hand and leaned in close to her ear. “Was this just a ruse to get me up here?”

  “No,” she said reluctantly. “I do actually have something to show you.” Jala let him go and led him to her table. She opened a small wooden box and took out some dried seeds. She shook them in her palm so they rattled softly. “Here, stupid bird.”

  With a squawk and a flutter of wings the mainland bird the Rafa had gifted her flew in through the window and landed on the table. It tried to peck at Jala’s hands until she dropped the seeds onto the table, where it ate them greedily.

  When it was done, Jala tapped it on the head. “Sing me a song of the Hashon.”

  The bird cocked its head to the side for a moment, then stretched out its neck and opened its mouth. Voices filled the room. Jala couldn’t make out any words, and the singers never stopped for breath. The sounds rose and fell, creating harmony at one moment and discord the next.

  The bird broke off abruptly and switched to one of its favorite dirty songs. Jala rolled her eyes and shooed it away.

  “I think it’s ugly,” Azi said after a moment. “Ugly and . . . strange. There’s something about it. You keep waiting for the voices to come back together, like you’re waiting for the tide. But how can they dance to that? The beat is something you’d play for a baby!”

  “Maybe they don’t dance,” Jala said. “I don’t care whether they dance or not, as long as they leave us alone.”

  “Everybody dances.” He leaned closer and touched two fingers to her heart. “Because only the dead don’t have a drum.”

  She thought he was about to kiss her, but a knock interrupted them.

  “My queen, a ship has come,” Iliana said through the door. “A Bardo ship. They’re saying it’s your father.”

  “My father? Why would he come in person?” But she answered her own question a moment later. Because birds can be intercepted and made to talk. The spark of joy she’d felt at the news was suddenly replaced by a queasy feeling in her gut. This was about the meeting. She looked back at Azi with regret. “I have to go see him.” She started toward the door.

  “Jala, wait,” Azi said. “When you talk with him . . . try to make him understand. We need the families together. Whatever his plans were before, this isn’t the time.”

  “I will,” Jala said. “I promise I’ll still be me when I come back, not Lord Mosi of the Bardo in a dress.”

  That made him smile again, and he followed her down to meet their guests. Lord Inas was already waiting. He nodded at Azi but didn’t bother to acknowledge Jala’s presence. Her father entered the hall moments later, his ship’s captain and a few soldiers behind him.

  And, walking next to him, was Marjani.

  “Marjani!” Jala ran to Marjani and hugged her tight. “I missed you, and I was so worried, and you have to stay for at least the season,” Jala said.

  “Not if you’re going to choke me like this,” Marjani managed, but she was smiling, and when Jala let her go they both laughed. Marjani looked her up and down, then smirked at Jala. “You don’t look any different, you know. Same girl I grew up with. Are you sure you’re really the queen?”

  “I can’t help that I’ve always looked like a queen,” Jala said, tilting her head up in mock pride. They laughed again.

  Her father spoke by her side. “It’s true, you have,” he said. “My little queen.” Jala turned to look at him. His smile was wide, and the wrinkles around his eyes made him look so kind. “And have you missed me, too?”

  She hugged him, holding him as tightly as she’d held Marjani a moment before. “Of course I missed you,” she said.

  “Just as I’ve missed you,” he whispered, hugging her back. “There’s so much to do. These are exciting times, and I know it’s frightening, but you should be excited, too. Great things are in store for us. For you.”

  Jala pulled away from him, a feeling of unease burrowing its way into her stomach. “What are you talking about?”

  Her father waved a hand. “Later, my little queen. For now you should be with your friend. Grayships are no way for an old man to travel. I need strong wine and a soft bed and several hours before I’ll feel much like talking.”

  He’d been talking about how old he was getting since Jala was eight, and anyone who’d seen him dance couldn’t believe it, but she was glad for the excuse. “Let me show you around,” she told Marjani.

  “Don’t I get to meet your husband?” Marjani said innocently, looking over her shoulder to where Azi was greeting the Bardo captains.

  “You met him the same day I did. Come on already.” She dragged Marjani out of the hall and back up to her rooms. As soon as the door was closed Jala hugged Marjani tight again. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” she asked. “You could have sent a bird to give me something to look forward to. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Marjani grinned. “You already said that. You’d think the queen would have more to occupy her time than missing me.”

  “No,” Jala said. “With everything that’s happened, I missed you more than ever.”

  Marjani’s smile faded, and for a moment she looked older. Tired. Marjani took her hand. “I missed you, too. But I’m here now. Oh, your mother sends her love. I don’t think she knows what to do with herself now that you’re gone. She’s spent so long preparing you for this, and suddenly she has so little to do. Everyone thinks she’s going to go crazy. If your father would let her start marrying off some Bardo nieces and nephews, maybe she’d calm down, but he wants her to wait.”

  “Wait until what?” Jala asked with a laugh.

  Marjani shrugged. “You know how your father is. He has plans. I’m sure he’ll talk you to death about them soon.”

  Jala sighed. “The last time he had plans, I don’t think it went that well. Not for me, anyway. How long are you here? It had better be a while. I demand it.”

  “Oh, you demand it? Then I have no choice but to do whatever my queen commands.” Marjani made an elaborate bow. “But you owe me news. Is it true that you went to the Lone Isle? What was it like?”

  “Not as exciting as it sounds,” Jala said, but she told the story anyway. Marjani oohed appreciatively at the descriptions of the people there and shuddered in sympathy as Jala described the potion Kade brewed and her strange meeting with the sorcerer-thief Askel.

  Jala finished her tale, and Marjani was quiet for a while. “Do you have the book here?” she finally asked. “Can I see it?”

  Jala pointed to a chest pushed against the wall. “It’s on top. I didn’t want the bird trying to eat it. Be careful with it. I plan to give it back to them, if I can.”

  Marjani flipped through the pages carefully. “It doesn’t really seem worth it.”

  “No. It doesn’t,” Jala said. “I’m really glad you’re all right. That none of them landed on the Second Isle. I was so worried, I had Azi send part of the Kayet fleet, just in case.”

  “I know,” Marjani said. “And thank you for that. I just wish you could have sent them all to the Fifth Isle instead. I know there was no way you could have known. I don’t blame you. No one does. We didn’t even know about the Gana until that bird came from the king, even though we could see the smoke in the distance, just a faint black line. It didn’t seem like much until you got closer, when you could see how much had been burned
down, and could see the . . . the bodies in the water.” She drew in a shivering breath.

  Jala started. “Wait, you were on the Fifth Isle? When?”

  “I went with Nara, the friend I told you about. She didn’t know if her family was all right. I got her a spot on one of the first barges your father sent. I thought she might need a friend.”

  “And did she?”

  Marjani nodded. “Her father was killed, and one of her brothers was badly hurt. Her mother and sister survived, though. They were lucky.”

  Jala pulled Marjani close and held her. “I’m sorry,” Marjani whispered. “We should talk of something happier.”

  “At least my father sent help. And I mean to keep this from happening again. If we return the book . . .” The words sounded hollow, now. Whatever she did wouldn’t lessen what Marjani’s friend went through, wouldn’t help any of the Kayet or Bardo who had died fighting on the Fifth Isle. Wouldn’t let Azi and Marjani forget the destruction they’d seen. Or maybe it was that the whole plan felt so hopeless. Am I really only sending someone off to die?

  Marjani wiped her eyes on Jala’s bedsheets. “It’s all right, I’ll be fine. Maybe I just need some wine, like your father. I don’t like ships much, and the memories are still fresh.” She leaned back against the wall and looked around. “I like your old rooms back home better, but these aren’t too bad. And I bet the food’s good, with all sorts of exotic treats from the mainland. Why don’t you have some brought up?”

  Jala nodded. “I’ll do that. But I should—”

  “—probably go talk to your father, I know. You go do that while I pull myself together. And Jala . . .” For a moment her voice turned serious again. “Listen to him. He sent those ships to help the Gana, and he saved the rest of Nara’s family, but there’s more to it. He has a plan.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of, Jala thought. But all she said was, “It’ll be all right in the end. We’ll make it right, Azi and I will. I’m sure of it.”

  Marjani looked up her. “You’ve never said ‘Azi and I’ like that before. You love him, don’t you?”

  Jala nodded. “If this isn’t love, then the real thing would kill me,” she said softly.

  “Ah, my little queen,” Jala’s father said. “You’ve done so well, as well as I ever could have hoped.”

  Jala smiled up at him. Even after everything that had happened, even though she wasn’t a little girl anymore, his praise still meant so much to her.

  He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her out of the manor. “Let’s talk outside. Too many unfriendly ears in this place, as I’m sure you’ve found.”

  What could he have to say that he didn’t want to get back to Azi? Maybe he was worried about Lord Inas, though. Once they were out of the manor, she pointed. “If we walk this way, I can show you where the invaders landed.”

  They walked along the shore with the setting sun at their backs. The ocean was quiet tonight, and the waves lapped gently over the white sand. Several seabirds circled overhead, sometimes letting out high-pitched cries. Long-legged insects buzzed past Jala’s face, and she waved them away. When they were far enough from any listening ears, she spoke.

  “Azi told me about all the help you sent to the Gana,” Jala said. “It’s hard to imagine a whole island of people are nearly gone. I’m glad our family could help.”

  Her father nodded. “How could we do less? There’s hardly a Bardo without at least a distant cousin on the Fifth Isle. Orad might have been able to run away, but the rest of our Gana cousins must live with the destruction. So, we do what Orad can’t.”

  “I’m sure Lord Orad is grateful for our help,” Jala said. “He couldn’t have prepared for that kind of attack. What Marjani and Azi saw there . . . that can’t happen again.”

  “Maybe he is grateful,” her father said. “We’ll find out soon enough.” He stopped walking and faced her. His eyes were serious. “I know that none of this is quite how you imagined it, and I know it’s been hard for you. It’ll get harder. But you’re strong, stronger than any of these Kayet fools, stronger than you know. But I know, as I’ve always known. You will lead the Bardo to greatness, and sooner than I dared dream.”

  His words were familiar; he’d said nearly the same things to her many times before. She’d always felt proud of his belief in her, but today she wasn’t just his daughter. She wasn’t just a Bardo anymore. “Our family’s greatness doesn’t really matter right now, does it? With the invaders and the Gana and everything else. We should all be working together to help them rebuild. And we need to work together if we’re going to keep all five islands safe.”

  “Yes, exactly,” her father said. “This meeting your boy king has called isn’t just about raiding. It’ll determine the future of the Fifth Isle. I’d bet Inas has already tried to convince the Gana to marry into the Kayet, and the rest of the families will do the same.”

  Was he even listening to her? Jala thought she saw where this was going, and she narrowed her eyes. “You want me to convince him to choose the Bardo, instead.”

  He just smiled. “I don’t think you’ll have to convince him. He has no choice. Either the Gana marry into the Bardo, or they lose the Fifth Isle to us anyway. Our soldiers are already on the island. The Gana have no fleet, and what sailors they have left are working with our own to rebuild. Orad’s people have already made the practical choice. You just need to make sure he understands.”

  “I understand that you aren’t listening to me,” Jala said. Had he only sent help because he was hoping to profit? “Father, we can’t just land some ships on the Fifth Isle and say it’s ours.”

  “We can, and we have. And soon we’ll have more.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm that seemed to encompass the whole ocean. “Just imagine, in a few years the Bardo will have more ships and more sailors than even the Kayet. When you have a son, he won’t be just a king, he’ll be a Bardo king!”

  Jala’s mouth was dry. “And where does Azi fit into this plan? Or is this island ours now, too, since you’ve landed me here?” She didn’t know why she was surprised. This had always been his dream; he’d made no secret of it. But it was different imagining what it might be like to be queen someday and to hear stories of how she might unite the islands for her family. And of course back then he’d never told Jala those plans included destroying families and putting countless lives in danger. Years later, she was finally getting the rest of the story.

  Her father shrugged. “The boy will be fine, don’t worry. I saw the way he looked at you. He loves you, as well he should. After this meeting is over and the Fifth Isle is ours, you can talk to him and soothe him, convince him it’s for the best. Lord Inas is a problem, but obviously his hold over the boy isn’t as strong as he might have hoped.”

  “He’s not just a boy,” Jala said. “He’s your king, too. And I’m his queen. Do you really think I can look him in the eyes and tell him this plan will benefit anyone other than the Bardo?” She went on before he had a chance to reply. “And what if Lord Orad refuses you? What about the other families? They won’t just let this pass, not after what you had me do at the Sectioning.”

  “So many questions! You never doubted yourself before, my little queen. Don’t start now. When the winds of fate blow, you can only raise your sails and see where they take you.”

  If she were still ten years old, her father’s words might have made her feel better. But she was beginning to see that he’d never really meant his compliments. She was strong and powerful and smart, but only when she did exactly as he said. And that was no compliment at all.

  But he was still her father, and he loved her. He was doing what he thought was best for their family. It just wasn’t what was best for her anymore. She tried again to make him hear her. “I’m not doubting myself,” she said slowly. “I’m doubting you. How can you look around at everything that’s happened and still talk about stabbing the other families in the back? Everyone on the Fifth Isle might be dead n
ow if Azi hadn’t gone to help.”

  “You speak as though any of them are trustworthy. I promise you they’re all plotting against us, especially now that you’ve shown them the kind of queen you are.” He put his hand on her head like she was a child. “I taught you better than this. You can’t trust any of them.”

  Jala pulled away. “If we can’t trust each other, there might not be much left when more of those ships land. You keep calling me a queen, but you’re still treating me like a little girl.”

  “You’re still my little Jala,” he said. “But I’ll try to remember you’re grown and married now, if you’ll indulge an old man’s forgetfulness now and then.”

  “You’re not that old,” Jala said, but she smiled. Things might be different between them now, but maybe he was trying. They walked for a while in silence, and her father examined the beach where the invading ships had landed. Much of the wreckage had been cleared away, but the tide had been leaving bits and pieces on the shore. A scrap of armor, a bit of ship, and, occasionally, a waterlogged body that must have fallen from the ships as they reached the island.

  “What’s really troubling you about the Gana?” her father asked, prodding a rusted and broken sword with his foot. “Are you worried about what your boy king will think of you? Neither of you believe the families will fall in line because of some mainlander magic. We’ve always fought amongst ourselves.”

  “I can’t do this,” Jala said. “I won’t.” She stared down at the rusted blade. Once it had been a tool used to bring death, and now it was nothing more than a bit of scrap even the ocean didn’t care to keep. She was afraid her people—all of her people—would end up forgotten, lost in the ocean. The sorcerer on the Lone Isle had said the islands were small, insignificant next to the enemy they faced. If the Five-and-One were destroyed, who would know there were ever islands here? What would Bardo or Gana or Rafa mean if none of the families lived through the year?

  “Don’t be petulant,” he admonished. “You’re a queen, not a child, as you so recently reminded me. I’ll speak to Orad myself then, but you’ll support me when it’s brought up. You’ll see the right choice is the one that’s best for our family.”