Ivory and Bone(44)



Out in the gathering place, people are standing shoulder to shoulder. It’s impossible to get a view of the whole crowd. My entire clan is here, plus at least ten people from your clan. Smiling and nodding at a few of your clan’s elders who I recognize from my visit but don’t know by name, I snake between smaller groups, catching snippets of conversations—How has the hunting been for you this summer? How do you feel after such a long trip on the water? Everyone seems to be putting history behind them and making friends. No one would guess that our two clans had come so close to war just five years ago.

Out on the far side of the square, near the path that leads away from camp to the meadow, I find Seeri and Pek. Behind them in the gathering shadows I hear laughter, and squinting I make out the shapes of two figures running, a boy and a girl—my brother Roon and your little sister, Lees. A squeal pierces the air—I can only guess Roon has caught Lees, though her laughter convinces me she wasn’t too upset to be caught. “Stay out of trouble,” I call into the dark as I turn back toward the crowd. They both fall quiet as I walk away.

For a moment I wonder if they might be kissing, but then decide that they are both too young and childish. Probably whispering secrets or planning a prank.

Toward the center of the square, in a tight little knot, I notice my father and mother, your brother . . .

You.

I should come over. It’s only polite.

As I slide through the crowd, I feel your eyes on me. A strange tension stiffens my arms and legs.

It can’t be nerves. It’s only awkwardness, as I prepare to say as little as possible before turning to look again for Lo. Or maybe I’ll be bold enough to ask you if you’ve seen her.

Yes, that’s what I’ll say.

Just before I reach your side, though, someone catches me by the elbow. I spin, expecting Lo. The grin is already on my face when I recognize that it is Shava instead.

“Kol, have you seen Pek? We’ve been looking for him. You remember my mother?” Shava’s mother, Fi, stands beside her. It’s been two years, but I recognize her immediately. “She only wanted to say a brief hello to Pek.”

My grin spreads into a wide smile. The presence of Shava and her mother confirms that members of the Bosha clan are here.

“It’s good to see you,” I say, while looking past Fi. “Do you know if Lo is here yet? She said she might bring her father.”

“Her father?” Shava’s mother’s voice is the high-pitched call of a startled bird.

“Lo spoke of her father today.” Unlike her mother, Shava speaks in low and controlled tones. “She spoke of the promise she made him.”

“Oh, yes. Well, I haven’t seen Lo yet tonight.”

Their behavior is so odd; I need to send Shava and her mother on their way. “Pek’s on the edge of the path,” I say.

Let them find him fawning over Seeri. The sooner they learn the truth, the better.

But Shava surprises me. She sweeps an appraising eye in your direction, perhaps making note of the fact that you have been watching us all this time. “You go say hello,” she says to Fi. “I saw him just this morning. I would rather stay here and talk to Kol about honey.”

Shava’s mother leaves, and I find myself uncomfortably pinned between Shava and you. “Did anyone else come from your clan?” I ask Shava.

“I’m not sure others will be coming,” she says. Her eyes shift to you, then back to my face. “My clanspeople are not very friendly with the Olen clan. We were once one clan, you know.”

“Yes, I do know—”

“You do? Because when I spoke about it to your family—to your father and mother—they had no idea—”

“I didn’t learn it from my family.”

From the corner of my eye, I see you move in closer. Did you hear me just now, acknowledging that I know you were once one clan? Can you guess it was Lo who told me?

A fire burns in the central hearth and its light sets your skin glowing as you move toward me. I can’t resist the urge to turn and look at you.

“You know the history of our clan?” you ask. And I know—I hear it in a small tremor in your voice—you fear what Lo may have told me about you.

But why care what I think of you? How could my opinion matter, except to satisfy your own pride and vanity?

“Some,” I say. I turn and look into your face, one side lit by the cool half-light of evening, the other glowing warm from the light of the fire. In your eyes there is a spark of something, like an ember just before it catches the kindling and everything bursts into flame. “Lo told me enough.”

“I doubt that,” you say. “It’s a complicated story.”

I notice for the first time that you are dressed in clothing reserved for the highest occasions. I would almost believe you were trying to make a good impression, but who could you be hoping to impress? Instead of your usual ill-fitting parka, you wear a long tunic of sealskin, cut to fit the lines of your body perfectly. I assume this is a new garment, constructed from the pelts brought by Pek. The tunic has a hood that lies open across your back, your long hair spilling into it. Leather ties lace up the neckline at your throat, but you’ve left it open. Around your neck, glowing like snow in the firelight, is the pendant, so similar to the one Lo showed me today. You notice my gaze and your fingers trace across it. “Do you recognize it?”

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