Obsidian and Stars (Ivory and Bone #2)(14)
My breath goes ragged. I listen to the beat of the waves, steady and constant, and try to draw that steadiness in. Memories flash through my mind like lightning—the flame illuminating Kol’s skin, the heat of his lips against my hand, Seeri’s question: Have you decided to refuse Kol?
“While my husband is still formally High Elder, I want to discuss some business between our clans that he felt was important. The Manu have ties . . . history . . . with both the Olen and the Bosha, and preserving those connections for the good of all was his constant thought and concern. So first, before business with the Olen, I wish to discuss the Bosha clan.” With that, she presses her gaze—heavy with grief but also with the weight of her question—onto Dora and the other Bosha elders. “Who will be the Bosha’s new High Elder?” She asks this question without a flinch of hesitation. There is nothing to indicate that she knows she is overstepping her rights. Perhaps she isn’t. The Bosha’s last High Elder, Lo, set fire to the Manu camp, putting all their lives at risk. Shouldn’t the Manu have the right to ask who will take Lo’s place?
The two elders who came with Dora and Anki glance at each other. Perhaps one of them is the new High Elder. I think I see a subtle nod from the woman. Her husband stands.
“We are happy to answer your questions. But first a confession, and a request for forgiveness. My name is Thern, and this is my wife, Pada. We are both elders of the Bosha clan. It is with shame that we admit that we were fooled by Lo. We failed as leaders, and our failure caused pain and damage.”
I watch Dora as Thern speaks. Her eyes flit briefly to Anki’s before returning to her hands, folded in her lap.
“This is why our answer to your question is that we have not chosen a new High Elder. Nor do we intend to. Instead, we hope to gain the forgiveness of the Olen clan, and ask them to allow us to rejoin them, reuniting the once-great Bosha clan.” He turns to face my brother. “If you will accept us, we would have you, Chev, as our High Elder.”
Though I didn’t recognize either Thern or Pada at first—there is a lean hardness to both of them that wasn’t there five years ago—I recognize their names, of course. Slowly, like seeing someone step out of a thick fog, their faces come back to me. I remember Pada especially, the second cousin of my best friend. She was older than us—beautiful and strong. I remember she kept her hair short to keep it out of her way in the hunt. My mother refused to cut mine to match, though I begged and begged. I wanted to be just like her, up until the day she chose to stay behind with Vosk.
She stood on the shore as I boarded the boat and Lo taunted me about my pendant. She was there when I crushed it under my boot against the rock. She called after us as we pulled away from shore, asking the Divine to forsake us and drown us in the sea.
I remember feeling so relieved that I still had my long hair—that I wasn’t like her. I cannot forgive her. I cannot accept anyone who so strongly rejected my family.
But Chev is different. He can accept anything, as long as he thinks it will lead to a return to the days when our father was High Elder of the Bosha. He gets to his feet from where he sits beside Seeri and crosses to the center of the circle. Thern meets him there and the two men exchange humble nods. So forgiving, so kind. But I see the slight shift in Chev as he fills with the knowledge of his expanding power. No smile, but heat rises in his eyes.
Mala stands. “I want to thank the Bosha elders for their openness,” she says. She steps forward, and Chev and Thern return to their seats. “I am certain that the Spirit of my husband is pleased to have this answer, as well.”
Mala lets her eyes sweep over the circle, addressing the group as a whole again, letting us all know that she would like to now speak about the Olen.
The time has come to discuss the Manu’s business with my clan.
Though I hear Kol’s mother’s voice, the sound stretches and bends into a low humming murmur, as if my head were underwater. I recognize the sound of my brother’s name, and the words thank you and the name of our clan. The word friendship swims through the hum, and willingness to help. Then she asks the purpose of the visit. It’s a formal question—part of custom. She can have no doubt what our purpose is. I saw it in her eyes the moment I stepped out of the boat and onto this shore.
The sound of the waves at the water’s edge, the wind rustling in the sea grass, and the echo of my own name—these sounds break through and fill my head. My eyes flick to Chev as he gets to his feet.
“I speak of my sister Mya first, because Kol is the future of the Manu clan. The Manu is on the cusp of new leadership—a great honor and responsibility will be conferred upon Kol soon.” Chev turns to face Kol, standing directly between us so that I cannot see his face. Something churns inside me like a catch of fish trying to escape the net. Every part of me twists and writhes. “The Manu have suffered a great loss, and we mourn that loss with you. But we also look forward to the future of the Manu. With that future in mind, Mala, I would like to betroth my sister Mya to your son Kol.”
My eyes are on the sand at my brother’s feet when he steps aside, opening the line of sight to the place where Kol sits. If I looked up, I could see his face. I could see what everyone else sees—his reaction to my brother’s words.
They are all looking at Kol. They all know what I want to know. What I need to know. So reluctantly, haltingly, I raise my eyes.