Invaded (Alienated, #2)(15)
When she peered inside, she didn’t find the black, gritty sludge she’d expected. The valeem appeared claylike—a smooth burnt-orange porridge that bore a slight resemblance to half-baked pumpkin pie filling. Occasionally, a lazy bubble would disrupt the soup and burp to the surface, filling the air with the seasoned sweetness of cloves.
The ancient Alona drew a breath and asked in English, “Who guarantees this girl’s integrity?”
“I guarantee it,” Elle replied. She extended their linked hands toward Alona, and with flawless timing, released her as the old woman claimed Cara’s fingers.
Alona’s grasp was cool, but stronger than Cara had anticipated, and she remembered that while the Elders seemed as frail as baby’s breath, they were only in their fifties.
Alona delivered a message to the assembly in L’eihr while Elle quietly translated. She told the story of the Sacred Mother, who’d loved this majestic planet so fiercely, she’d sacrificed her immortal body by splitting herself into half a dozen equal pieces, each one forming the six gods and goddesses of L’eihr. Her “children” went on to create the topography, oceans, animals, and intelligent beings that populated the world. And just as the Sacred Mother had surrendered her body and spirit to give life to the planet, in turn, each citizen was expected to devote his or her existence to the betterment of L’eihr. It was a beautiful story with parallels to many of Earth’s religions, and the similarities made Cara feel closer to home.
“Cah-ra Sweeney, l’ihan to Aelyx of the first Aegis,” Alona spoke. “Do you join your fate with the Sacred Mother—freely, of your own choosing, and without duress?”
Cara cleared her throat. “Yes.”
“Will you devote your existence to the advancement of L’eihr?”
“Yes.”
“And will you submit to The Way in all matters, without fail?”
Cara hesitated. Submission wasn’t really her cup of tea, but she knew any further delay would insult her leaders. Without waiting another second, she licked her lips and sealed her fate.
“Yes.”
“Then let me be the first to welcome you, sister.” Alona’s clouded gray eyes sparked alive. Although the woman hadn’t initiated Silent Speech, a trickle of emotion leaked from her gaze—one of pure hope. Alona believed that Cara would lead others to the colony, that they’d join their societies and bring the spirit of humanity to the clones. Cara didn’t know whether to feel flattered or terrified. It seemed The Way had some serious expectations of her.
Alona raised Cara’s hand into the air, and in flawless synchronization, the entire assembly shouted, “Welcome, sister!” in the militant voices of their native tongue.
The old woman’s eyes shifted to Cara’s robe, a silent message that the time had come to bare it all. Cara glanced at Elle for confirmation, hoping she’d say, Just kidding! Did you really think you’d have to get naked? then laugh and clap her on the shoulder. But, of course, she didn’t say those things. She nodded and took her place in line behind The Way.
Cara brought ten trembling fingers to her waist and fumbled with the belt tie. After three tries, she worked the knot free and untangled its ends, then brought both hands to her lapels and clutched the stiff fabric like a security blanket. Suddenly she realized she didn’t know what to do with the robe once she’d shed it. Let it fall to the ground? Sling it over one arm? She glanced at Alona, who seemed to understand.
“I’ll hold it,” she whispered, extending an arm.
If Cara was going to do this, she’d do it right. Taking a deep breath, she peeled back the lapels of her robe and pulled her arms free, then handed the garment to Alona and faced the sea of clones, staring through them as they’d done to her.
Instantly her cheeks burst into flames, her entire body flushing so red hot, she expected to see fire shoot from her fingertips. A light wind brushed her naked flesh in places she’d never felt the breeze before, but the oddest sensation of all was the pressure of five hundred curious gazes. The attention crackled over her like static electricity—invisible but very real.
Alona used her free hand to dip into the trough. She cupped the thick liquid and then poured it over Cara’s left shoulder, where it trickled downward to coat her arm. It was warmer than she’d expected, and her muscles relaxed in response. The next Elder repeated the process on the other side, and when Jaxen’s turn came, he scooped two handfuls of mud and spilled them across her lower abdomen, essentially creating a dripping bikini. It was an oddly chivalrous act, and she thanked him with her eyes.
Elle heaped two layers of mud over Cara’s chest, kindly concealing “the girls” from view, and then the first group of clones approached. But instead of cupping a handful of valeem, the six of them dipped their index fingers just deep enough to coat the tips. They passed her quickly, not bothering to meet her gaze when they tapped their nails against her chest.
It didn’t take a sociologist to interpret the message: they would participate in the ceremony, but that didn’t mean she was welcome. On and on it went, each group of six offering the least required of them by their leaders.
Cara’s skin felt tight and tingly in a way that had nothing to do with the clay beginning to dry across her body. She dug her fingernails into her palms and lifted her chin as she completed the rite of passage that marked her transition into adulthood. Once the last clone had marked her, Cara wrapped a dark blanket around her shoulders and waited for Alona to dismiss the assembly for the Sh’ovah feast.