Ivory and Bone(38)

Recognition washes over me. I realize Shava isn’t acting odd—she’s acting as she always has.

She is looking at me the way she has always looked at Pek.





FIFTEEN


It’s just before the midday meal, and as the group of us hike back to camp, the crunch of gravel underfoot and birdsong overhead is joined by music rising from the gathering place. A strange melancholy grips me—I haven’t been home for the midday meal for days, and the cold formality of your clan has made me long for the warmth of my own.

I’m homesick.

As we walk, I try to make out the song my clanspeople are singing, but the wind is at our backs and the sound moves out and away. Shava walks beside me, pummeling me with questions about bees and hives, so that what I can hear of the music is drowned out and incomplete.

It isn’t until we are just outside the ring of huts that I recognize the tune. The melody is simple—the kind that makes you want to sing along. Vocals dance over a plain drumbeat . . . Oh great Divine, you taught us to make rope of many cords. . . . Two cords are stronger than one. . . . This rope of many cords, wrapped and woven, will remain unbroken. . . .

This is the song of friendship my people were singing when my family arrived back on our shore and found Shava here visiting. I can only assume that more of her clan has arrived from their camp across the bay.

The trail ends at a gap in the huts that reveals the gathering place. A girl stands outside the circle, long dark hair, straight and loose, flowing down her back—a girl wearing an ill-fitting parka that appears to be borrowed from a brother.

I know it is you long before I see your face. Standing beside you, her posture tense and taut, is your sister, Seeri. She strides toward us as soon as Pek steps into view.

I want to ask why you’re here, who came with you, if your brother is also here, how long you will stay. But I realize that your rude treatment of me and my family wouldn’t merit that type of greeting. Instead I smile and turn to the girls who walk beside me.

“Seeri, Mya . . . this is Shava and Lo, our neighbors from the Bosha clan. They are camping across the bay and have come to visit.” I glance at Seeri’s face, but she is looking past my shoulder. I turn to you and your eyes are on the ground.

Such flagrant arrogance.

“These are our neighbors,” I repeat. “This is Shava, and this is Lo. We just came from an outing to the meadow. We went in search of honeybees.”

“And we were very successful,” Shava adds. A loud giggle escapes her, and my nerves jump along my spine.

I wait for your nods, for your acknowledgment of these strangers. My eyes shift from you to Seeri and back again. Both of you stare absently, ignoring the introductions being made.

Could it be rivalry that prevents you from greeting these girls civilly? Certainly not rivalry over me, but maybe Pek? I might expect disdain from you, but not Seeri, who has shown good manners under the worst of circumstances.

Until now.

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. Please excuse me.” That’s all you say before you turn and walk straight to the door of the hut we built for you the last time you visited. You never even lift your eyes from the ground.

“I should go check on my sister,” says Seeri. At least she meets Pek’s gaze when she speaks. “But first I need to tell you both the reason we’re here.”

My eyes flick to my brother. He stands completely still, as if he fears he’s dreaming that Seeri is here and if he moves he may wake and it would all be gone. “My brother Chev regrets his behavior the night you were all in our camp. After you left he realized that he had treated you rudely. Too much mead, he says.”

Seeri attempts a laugh but no one else even so much as smiles. Pek still stands motionless. I turn to Shava. Her eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl. She watches Lo, as if waiting for cues.

“Chev’s heart is burdened with regret. He says he owes your clan a celebration in Kol’s honor. My whole family has come, as well as our clan’s council of elders. We’ve brought a feast to serve in your camp tonight.”

“Your council of elders? Does that mean your brother has changed his mind about—”

“He says he values your clan’s friendship very much. He’s brought this feast as a show of good faith. Those were Chev’s own words—good faith. He is sincere about building a bond with the Manu.”

“So then there might really be a chance—”

“I have to go,” Seeri says, and almost as quickly as you, she turns on her heels and disappears in the direction of your hut.

“He must have second thoughts, right?” Pek’s face is a study in contrasts. His eyes are the eyes of a man who’s been lost in a dark cave and who’s finally found the tiniest glimmer of light through a thin crack in the stone—his eyes are alight with the possibility that he’s finally found the way out.

But his mouth belongs to a different face. His mouth is a hard flat line—the mouth of a man who knows his hopes are false, a man preparing himself for the coming sting of disappointment.

“Is one of those girls her?” Shava asks.

Neither of us responds. “Is one of them the girl you spoke of earlier?” she asks Pek.

“It’s none of your concern,” he says, his words jumbling together as if he can’t spit them out fast enough. He turns and heads back up the path in the direction we came.