Smoke. She had noticed. “Oh, I didn’t think, I’m so sor—”
“No, hush, that’s not my point. That man broke Thiyo’s heart and then sailed back across the ocean to lie to me. And that lie! He told me my child was dead. I never should have offered him hospitality. You, on the other hand, saved Thiyo’s life. So understand what it means when I say this. Do you want some clothes, Ev?”
“Yes. Please.”
She assessed Ev from head to toe, which made Ev duck her head in a silent apology for her height. Ev knew of women, Tayihe and her aunt Ifeleh among them, who never apologized for taking up space, but she wasn’t one of them.
As Tayihe left, Ev turned and saw that Thiyo had been leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching their whole conversation. Tayihe pushed past him without a second glance. Ev was supposed to wait for her in the kitchen, which had shrunk with Thiyo’s arrival. Tayihe doesn’t care that he’s naked, she reminded herself. It shouldn’t matter to me, either.
Thiyo lifted himself out of his lean and glided toward Ev—or that was how it seemed, since she couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere near his legs. He put his index finger under her chin. He lifted until their eyes met.
Ev was on edge, waiting to be teased, but instead he brushed his other hand over her shoulder. Then he straightened his own posture, taking a full breath, squaring his shoulders, and raising his chin ostentatiously so she’d know what he was doing.
He wanted her to stand up to her full height. He must have seen her hunching her shoulders while Tayihe looked her over.
Oh. That was… unexpected. Sweet, even. Ev didn’t know what to say. Not that it would have mattered if she had.
He was still touching her. One fingertip’s worth of contact and her ridiculous heart was trembling. It had nothing to do with his nakedness. Thiyo had managed, with only gestures, to tell her to keep her head up.
“I can’t help it. I’m not like you. I wish I was. It must be nice to feel that confident about yourself.”
He didn’t move when his mother returned to the kitchen, but Ev stepped backwards.
Tayihe stood between them and tapped Thiyo in the chest with a folded square of fabric. She handed the rest of what she was carrying to Ev, then said something to Thiyo. From her tone, it was either an order or a scolding or both.
“He doesn’t under—” Ev began.
“Oh, he understands,” Tayihe said, and Thiyo put the skirt on. She inclined her head. “See?”
“Ah,” Ev said, not convinced but not interested in arguing. Tayihe’s gesture of cultural respect didn’t include putting on any more clothes herself, but Ev didn’t need it to. The black-and-white fabric in her hands, its weave rippling under her fingertips, was enough.
Thiyo finished tying a piece of clothing around his waist. A skirt like his mother was wearing—a long strip of fabric tied around the waist and threaded through two long panels of cloth. It offered no protection and seemed more decorative than practical, but Ev could at least look in Thiyo’s direction once again. Sort of. There was all that bare chest to contend with.
“I told him to stop his strutting,” Tayihe said. “Can’t have him acting like a fantailed dancing bird in my kitchen. I told him it’s not hospitable to make our foreign guest uncomfortable, which he knows.”
Contrary to all expectation, Thiyo had been behaving with courtesy. He hadn’t been trying to make her uncomfortable. Ev couldn’t bring herself to explain what had passed between them, and her attention was caught by something else Tayihe had said. “Acting like a what?”
“Oh, do you not have fantailed dancing birds? That’s a shame. They’re magnificent. About this big.” She held her hands about shoulder-width apart. “They live in the forest and the males have these grand, colorful tails that they spread out when they’re walking. And sometimes they perform a particular kind of dance—a sort of ritual to get attention.” In case her interpretation of the situation wasn’t already mortifyingly clear, Tayihe added, “They dance to attract a mate.”
“I don’t think he—Thiyo just likes to tease me—” But the moment Tayihe had interrupted hadn’t been teasing. And Ev had to contend with the way he’d looked at her on the ship. And in bed. Ev didn’t want to think about those looks, because if she did, she’d have to think about how her body reacted to them. It’s nothing, she told herself firmly.
Fixing Ev with a terrifying look, Tayihe continued, “I know my son. I’m afraid it has always been easy for other people to lead Thiyo around by his… heart.”
“Ah,” Ev said, momentarily having forgotten how to say anything else. Other people obviously included Ilyr. What did Tayihe want her to say? Was it necessary to say anything? Tayihe’s interpretation was so wildly off the mark that it hardly deserved a response, Ev told herself. Thiyo had always liked to get a rise out of Ev, and now that he couldn’t tease her with words, he sometimes made use of other tools. All their communication went through touch now. Explaining that would make the situation worse, and Tayihe’s glare was intimidating. Ev collected herself. “I have no intention of doing that.”
“Good,” Tayihe said, her voice clipped.
“Thank you for the clothes,” Ev said and retreated to the bedroom.
The skirt was easy enough—but God, that was a lot of thigh to show—but the remaining items that Tayihe had offered made no sense. Ev appreciated how Tayihe could walk around topless and not care, but she’d faint from embarrassment if she tried.
One of the items was simply a tube of cloth. Ev couldn’t conceive of how she could possibly stretch it over her shoulders or her hips to get it to cover her breasts, so she discarded it. The third item looked more or less like a tunic—it even had sleeves down to the elbows—but it was open in the back, both sides of the fabric dangling some system of ties and lacings.
Behind her, the door slid open. No one said anything, so Ev assumed it must be Thiyo. She twisted, glad her front was covered, and confirmed it was him.
He walked over to her and tied the back of her tunic closed.
“Thanks,” she said, turning to face him. His only response was to walk out of the house, Tayihe’s homemade map in hand. He waited for her expectantly, but she held up a hand and went to say goodbye to Tayihe.
“I hope we’ll be back with good news soon,” Ev said. “Maybe she’ll know some way to help.”
Tayihe’s expression cut through her optimism.
“Well, uh, thank you for everything.”
“If anyone stops you, say my name or Halelitha’s name.”
“Will that be enough?” Somehow it felt rude to finish the question with to stop them from killing me, even though, in Ev’s opinion, it would be far ruder for a stranger to murder her.
Tayihe shrugged. “They ought to respect my name. I have power. Then again, I also have enemies.”
That wasn’t what Ev wanted to hear, but Tayihe didn’t offer her anything better, so she said goodbye and went to meet Thiyo outside.
Instead of going back down toward the beach, they headed uphill. Halelitha lived in a more remote village than Sunslope, deep in the jungle. Ev kept close to Thiyo as they walked through the streets of Sunslope, wary of another experience like the one on the beach in Kae. Would people here fear her like that? Would Tayihe’s name protect her?
Ilyr was here somewhere, and they hadn’t killed him yet. But they knew him. He could speak their language. Ev was a stranger.
As their path slanted upward and entered the woods, Thiyo took her by the wrist and tugged her away from the marked trail. Reluctantly, she followed him, unfamiliar foliage brushing at her legs. How long were they going to walk away from the trail? Where was he taking her? It was several long, uncertain minutes before Ev realized that Thiyo was listening for a sound. He kept pausing until he heard it again, then adjusting their course. He was staring into the branched canopy above them. The warbling cry had to be a bird call, but it wasn’t any bird Ev knew.
Next time they heard it,
Thiyo pulled her close and pointed straight above them. Perched in the branches was a huge bird, its feathers as green as the leaves around it. It cawed again, then opened its wings as wide as Ev’s arms and took flight. It shot up, piercing the canopy, and let out a triumphant call as it reached open air.
“Wow,” Ev said. Thiyo nodded his agreement.
Witnessing the bird turned out to have been the goal of their detour, since Thiyo then led her back to the trail. The hours of walking passed in silence. Between marveling at the plants and animals of Hoi, Ev studied Thiyo. He led them through the trees with determination, and she watched the muscles of his back work every time he lifted his arms to push aside branches or vines blocking their path. His hair had grown a little since they met and the black curls now hung down over the back of his neck. They didn’t stop walking even when a sheen of sweat covered both of them.
Despite his unrelenting focus, Thiyo was subdued. He didn’t seem quite as weighted down with despair as he had that first triad after discovering what he’d lost, but maybe he’d become resigned to it. The only times he’d really come alive lately were times he’d been teasing her—or when he’d been showing her something in the woods. That surprised her. He’d seemed so content with his indoor palace life in Nalitzva.
He drew her into the woods a second time, pulling at her arm with urgency. Ev didn’t hear anything except what she thought was the usual rustling and buzzing of life in the forest, but apparently Thiyo had been seized by the desire to leave the path, so she let him lead her. This time, he had a number of different things to show her: a grove of trees with trunks like houses, a burbling stream, a small furry animal that skittered up into the branches as soon as he pointed at it. Ev smiled at all of it. As they retraced their steps back to the path, Thiyo pointed out one last thing. A plant in the undergrowth covered in small red berries. He mimed eating them, then put his hands around his throat, crossed his eyes, and stuck his tongue out.
“Got it,” Ev said. “Poison.”
He seemed satisfied by that response and they continued on their way. Back on the path, Thiyo grew still again. It wasn’t so surprising that he was troubled, she reminded herself. She was worried, too.
Ev’s reflections were interrupted when they arrived at the village. They’d managed the whole journey without encountering another person—that threw a new light on Thiyo’s interest in leaving the path—but now there were children playing among the houses and two women standing together chatting and keeping an eye on the kids. Both of the adults and one of the children stared at Ev. No one had a weapon. Still, Ev couldn’t help but think of the beach in Kae. Did these people want to kill her?
Thiyo grabbed her hand, then smiled at the women and inclined his head in the direction he planned to walk. They seemed to recognize him and called out greetings. They were probably asking questions, too. They must have thought, as Thiyo had, that he would never come home again. Thiyo waved them off and hurried Ev to a house positioned slightly outside the cluster of the village. The women watched them go. They’d be the subject of gossip, but that was preferable to violence.
The house, at a higher elevation and situated deeper in the forest than Tayihe’s, was a more permanent structure, with stone walls in addition to its stone floor. The doors and windows were open to the world. A fat woman with short grey hair was seated on a bench outside when they approached, reciting something to a girl of eight or nine who was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of her. Ev was relieved both of them were wearing skirts. It was difficult to guess the woman’s age, since her brown skin had only a few wrinkles. When she saw Thiyo, she beamed and said his name and a string of other words Ev didn’t understand. He inclined his head. This must be Halelitha.
She dismissed her young student and rose from her position so she could hug Thiyo. She said a few more things to him during this process, with many curious looks at Ev. After hugging Thiyo, she took a step back, her hands still on his shoulders. She had to raise her arms high to hold the position. Meeting his eyes, she said one last thing, and Thiyo gave her a sad, lopsided smile. She made a few signs with her hands, as Tayihe had, and his expression remained the same.
She put a hand to her chest.
God, each of these reunions broke Ev’s heart a little more. Standing off to the side, she spoke up after a moment. “Laalvuri?”
Halelitha gave a short laugh from deep in her throat. “Not well,” she said, and her voice was low and smooth. She gave Thiyo a fond look. “But for this one, I will raise my sword and charge.”
Ev blinked. Was she quoting something? That sounded like a line from something Ev had ignored in school. Halelitha walked back to her bench and sat down, patting the empty spots next to her in invitation. Ev and Thiyo joined her.
“My name is Ev.”
“I never thought to see this one again,” Halelitha said. “The ship carries my heart to strange shores while my feet sink into the sand.”
She was definitely quoting something. Ev had no idea what. Thiyo had mentioned that Halelitha had recited poetry to him to help him learn. She must be stitching together lines to make conversation. She patted Ev’s knee, as if her fondness for Thiyo transferred to anyone with him. “The leaping fish returns to the clear waters, and I go home.”
“He’s hurt,” Ev said, unsure how to carry on this mysterious conversation. She hadn’t brought Thiyo home on purpose, and she didn’t want any credit for how they’d arrived here. “He killed a medusa and he can’t talk anymore.”
That startled Halelitha out of reciting fragments. “What did he do that for?”
“To save me,” Ev said. “Although we didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Not to make Mama happy?” When she wasn’t quoting things, Halelitha spoke with a slight accent.
“Tayihe?”
“She always wanted him to be a tracker like his father,” Halelitha explained. “When he was small—” Halelitha held a hand a little ways above her knee “—they put him in the water to see. But Thiyo was a speaker—like her. After that, he came to see me. I taught him everything in my memory. He understood. I didn’t always understand, but Thiyo understood.”
“He doesn’t understand anymore,” Ev said. “Not since the medusa.”
Halelitha looked at Thiyo and pursed her lips. “He never listens.”
“No, it’s not that. He can’t understand anymore, even if he does listen.”
“I know Thiyo,” Halelitha insisted. “Medusa, no medusa, he never listens. I love him, but he’s a bad student. My favorite student, but a very bad student.”
“You think he needs to be taught again?” Ev asked, trying to follow this unexpected logic.
“I do what I do. Why bring him to me, if you don’t want me to teach him?”
“Have you had a student who’d been injured by a medusa? Or have you ever heard of a case like this? I’m not sure teaching him will work.”
“What do I know?” Halelitha said, and Ev had a feeling she was quoting the sacred texts of the Temple of Doubt. “I’m never sure it will work. Especially with this one when he was small. But he learned once. We talk, he listens, maybe he talks. I learned to speak like that, you learned to speak like that, babies learn to speak like that. It’s the only way.”
Ev was pleased to hear this. Nobody needed magic to learn to speak. Biha’s voice echoed in her head, saying don’t they? Ev ignored it. “Do you think he could relearn everything?”
“I am too old for that,” Halelitha said in a tone that brooked no argument. “But Hoi and Laalvuri, this we can teach. You and me. Stay here and we will teach him.”
“For how long?” Alizhan was alone in Laalvur. Thiyo had predicted disaster for Adappyr. Ev couldn’t stay here.
Halelitha shrugged. “Ten triads, maybe fifteen triads.”
“A week and a half?” Ev frowned. That was so much time, and yet it didn’t seem like enough to relearn two languages from nothing. She’d been with Thiyo for four triads a
nd he hadn’t made any progress. “Isn’t there anything faster? Do you know anyone who can restore memories?”
“A rare skill,” Halelitha said. “Not many people can do that. I knew one man, but he is dead.”
Smoke.
“Memory and language are not the same,” Halelitha continued. “I have a flawless memory but flawed language.”
“Better than mine,” Ev joked.
“No, no, I mean to say… Thiyo. Maybe Thiyo is different, after we teach. The sun always shines and yet things change.”
He wouldn’t like that. But he didn’t like being speechless, either.
“I am very smart, you know,” Halelitha said. “I sound different in Hoi.”
“You sound pretty smart in Laalvuri,” Ev assured her. “I don’t know any of these things you’re quoting. But I know what you mean.”
“I can say ‘her heart as constant as the sun’ and ‘may God’s Balance keep you’ and ‘Laal laid down his body so the flower of the Day Empire might blossom from his empty hand’ when I remember. But when I make new sentences, I make mistakes sometimes. When he was small, Thiyo laughed at me.”
“That wasn’t very nice of him.”
They both turned toward Thiyo, who regarded them with wide-eyed innocence. Unlike with other conversations, he seemed to be paying attention to this one. Ev’s heart jumped at the thought that he might have understood—but more likely, he knew that falsely innocent expression would apply to any story Halelitha might tell Ev about him.
Still, it lifted Ev’s mood to see Thiyo respond to anything in conversation. Maybe this would work.
Shadebloom Page 8