Jala's Mask (19 page)

The air reeked of oil, and burning hair, and burnt meat.

Azi fought just to stay out of their reach. Everyone was running, shoving, trying to get away from the madness around them. Azi stumbled and fell to one knee. Something hit him from behind, and he was knocked face-first into the sand. He pushed himself up just as another burning man ran past him.

The man stopped. Azi stayed still, afraid to move. The sounds around him had grown muffled, and his heartbeat was too loud in his ears, urging him to run, run, run. The man opened his mouth wide and then collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain. Azi watched in horror as the man rolled on the sand, his skin charring off his face, his fat and muscles melting.

Azi pushed himself up. All around, the invaders were falling, burning away on the sand until only the flames still moved, dancing in the wind. The air was filled with smoke.
We've won
, Azi thought, coughing. But he wasn't sure what they'd won. His head spun, and he couldn't seem to focus his eyes. He sat down on the sand again, just for a minute, and then he passed out.

He woke to bright sunlight in his eyes and a splitting headache. Somewhere nearby people were talking, sometimes shouting. Someone put a wet cloth on his head. The water felt so cool he couldn't help sighing. Azi closed his eyes for a moment, then forced them open again.

“Good morning, my king,” Doctor Abeo said. “You were hit on the head during the fight. Good thing it was only the flat of the sword, eh? Can you walk?”

“I can try,” Azi said. He fell twice but managed to stay upright on the third attempt. He looked around. A grayship bobbed on the waves nearby, its load so heavy that it rode low on the water. Two more grayships waited farther out while sailors pulled the first ship ashore.

The bodies had been cleared from the beach, he was glad to see. A team of Bardo sailors dug through the burned ruins of the manor, searching for anything useful that might have survived the fire.

The burned grayships were being removed too, he noticed. The one he'd lost was there, but also the hulks of many Gana ships. All of them, Lord Orad had said. Azi couldn't imagine what it had taken to order all the ships destroyed. Without them, the Gana were no longer a real family.

“Lord Mosi is here,” Doctor Abeo said from behind Azi. “He's been quite anxious for your recovery.”

Azi looked up to see Mosi standing behind the doctor. “I wouldn't think those barges could travel so quickly with such a heavy load, my lord.”

“They came as quickly as they could, my king,” Lord Mosi said. “But not that quickly. You've been asleep for a day. Doctor Abeo told us to let you rest.”

Azi started. “It feels like only a moment ago.” He rubbed the back of his head and flinched. “Have you sent any birds to Jala or Inas? They should know what's happened here.”

Lord Mosi nodded. “Of course. But I think that as soon as you're ready, you should go back to your island and rule, my king. I believe Lord Orad is going with you. Difficult decisions will have to be made soon. I'll stay and help our cousins rebuild. I'm sure we'll see each other soon.”

What're you planning?
Azi thought as they took hold of each other's arms and said good-bye. He sighed.
Mountain's piss, I'm starting to sound like my uncle.
It bothered him that so many Bardo had come to help rebuild, though he couldn't quite put a finger on why.

“If my king is feeling better, I will go tend to my other patients,” Doctor Abeo said.

Azi nodded. “Please tell someone to find Captain Darri for me. We're going home.”

Jala walked down to the beach as she had done the last few days. She kicked off her shoes, waded ankle-deep into the cool water, and dug her toes into the sand. She let herself relax, her eyes wandering over the water. A bird had come from her father to let her know that the Kayet fleet was returning, with Azi safely aboard.

Her father had said more news would follow, hinting that something important was going to happen.
Well, you'll find out soon, and then you'll probably wish you didn't know.

She was just grateful Azi was alive, though he was taking his time getting back. She spent too much time here, watching and waiting for him, but she couldn't bring herself to stay away. When he came back, she'd be here waiting for him.

There'd been rumors of fire rising from the Fifth Isle, but nobody knew what that meant. She wondered if he'd stood on the beach waiting for her to return from the Lone Isle. Or if he'd just gone off to spend time with Kona, whoever she was. If she was real. If he still cared about her.

She wanted to spend all day here, but she had responsibilities she couldn't put off forever. It was time to go. Jala started to turn around, but something on the horizon caught her eye. She put a hand on her forehead to block out the sun. Gray sails against a strip of blue sky.

Azi's fleet. It had to be.

Jala stayed on the beach, watching and waiting until she could make out the red streaks on the ships' sails. By then, a small crowd had gathered around her. Boys and retired sailors loitered about in case the crews needed help pulling the ships ashore. A woman holding an armful of medical supplies barked orders, preparing to treat any injuries.

Finally the first ship's bow hit sand. Sailors jumped over the side and pushed the ship onto the beach. Jala scanned the deck looking for Azi. She finally spotted him standing next to a tall man she didn't recognize.

As soon as he disembarked, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. Even though she'd been expecting him any day, the suddenness of seeing him alive and well made her heart race.

“You're not dead,” she whispered, and she pressed her face against his bare shoulder. He was damp from spray and smelled of smoke and sweat. She didn't mind. If he smelled, he was alive. Not knowing what else to say, she kissed him. His kiss was hungry, almost desperate, and they held each other close until she was almost out of breath.

Definitely still alive.

Azi broke off the kiss with a reluctant smile. Jala almost objected, but then she remembered they had an audience. A rather large audience, in fact. Her face flushed with heat as she realized a crowd of people watched them with a mixture of raised eyebrows and amusement.

“Jala. My queen.” Azi's voice was heavy with weariness. His left arm was bandaged, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Azi gestured to the man beside him. “This is Lord Orad of the Gana. He's the head of the Gana family.”

Orad was older than Azi by at least ten years, with angry red burns on his face and chest. When he saw her he straightened his hunched shoulders and bowed stiffly. When he spoke, it was obvious that it took effort just to keep his voice steady. “My queen. Thank you for allowing me and my family . . . what's left of my family . . . to reside here.”

“Your family is welcome, of course,” she said, glancing at Azi. Her father's message hadn't mentioned this. She wondered what else had been left out.

“The Gana are no more,” Azi said. Orad winced. “The invaders' ships landed on the Fifth Isle with all the men inside still alive. They took the manor and killed most of the family.”

“We barely had time to burn our ships,” Orad said softly.

Then they really were a dead family. It was one of her biggest fears, and he was living it. “The worst storms are often followed by the clearest skies,” she said, hoping the words didn't sound as empty to him as they did to her. “You did what you had to do, and all of the other families will honor you for it.”

Orad lowered his eyes, and she looked away as well, leaving him to his grief.

By now most of the other grayships had landed and were in the process of being pushed ashore. The wounded were helped or carried off the boats. As the sailors were greeted by friends and family, a murmur grew among those gathered on the beach.

A small knot of men and women now stood behind Orad. Jala nodded toward them. “Your family, my lord?”

“My brother's family,” Orad said. “And some of my cousins. My wife . . .” He shook his head. “Please, forgive me. We're all very tired.”

Jala wasn't interested in how tired Orad felt just then. She wanted to know what had happened. But right now Azi needed her to play the royal hostess. “I understand. If you and your family will come with me to the manor, you'll be well cared for.”

Orad waved his family over, and they followed her into the house. Once inside, Azi whispered, “We'll talk soon,” then pulled away from the group, heading for the Kayet wing.

Jala led the Gana to the guest wing. “We have no other noble guests right now, so you may each have rooms to yourself, if you like. I'll send someone to see to your needs.”

One of the women stepped forward. “Would you please have someone tell Lady Chahaya that we've arrived?”

But Azi's mother was already waiting for them. “I'm sorry I didn't come out to meet you. It's so good to see you again, Panya.” Chahaya walked up to one of the women and embraced her, holding her tight for several seconds before hugging the others just as fiercely. Her eyes were red, and Jala wondered if she'd been crying. “Is it true, then? We're all that's left of our family?”

“Yes,” Orad said. “It's true.”

“I didn't want to believe it. I had planned on going home soon.”

Orad's voice turned hard. “We're only as dead as we let ourselves become. We're still here, no matter what the Kayet say.” He glanced at Jala. “My apologies. My family and I have much to talk about, and I'm sure you have worries of your own. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“I'll show them to their rooms,” Azi's mother said, trying to regain control of her voice. “I've been here a lot longer than you have, and I know which rooms don't stink of fish when the morning catch is brought in.”

Jala nodded. “I hope you'll join me tomorrow. Maybe lunch on the beach, if the weather permits it.” As she left the guest wing, she heard Orad whispering behind her but couldn't make out any of the words. She wondered what would happen to the remaining Gana now. How long would the Kayet allow them to live here? How long before they were no longer recognized as nobility?

Azi's mother is Gana. Surely he'll let them stay for as long as they need, for her sake, if nothing else.

Jala went back to her rooms, where she washed and changed into a new dress. Outside, people had already begun to celebrate the fleet's safe return. Bonfires again dotted the beach. Drummers started to play, and jugs of palm wine and grass beer were being passed around.
They're celebrating as if the Gana don't matter at all.
But then, maybe they didn't. Not to the Kayet.
Maybe it's just better to celebrate the good. The fleet's back, Azi's back. Doesn't that make you want to dance?

But there was another thought, too. A thought that went,
Are you sure he's happy to see you? Are you sure he doesn't wish he was with his village girl right now?
She tried to push the thought away. It was only Lord Inas trying to hurt her. She'd go to see him now and prove it was nothing but mean-spirited gossip.

Jala swept through the Kayet wing of the manor and knocked on Azi's door. Before she could knock again the door opened and Azi stood in the doorway. He'd taken off his bloody clothes, washed, and had his bandage changed. Now he wore a plain silk shirt, buttoned low at his navel. His sword still hung at his waist, partially obscured by his flowing pant leg.

He looked like a king. He looked . . . like something out of a romantic tale, like the Nameless Wanderer or Ekundayo the Dolphin, who swam through wave and storm to reach his love.

“Hi,” she said.

He pulled her to him without saying a word and then held her tight for a long time.
He needs you
, Jala thought as he held her.
And you need him.

After a while he pulled away, though he kept his hands on her shoulders. “Hi,” he said, smiling at her.

Behind him, Jala saw a pitcher of wine on the floor, the cup beside it empty and unused. “Did you want to join your people?” she asked. “We could dance, if you're not ready to talk yet. Or just walk along the beach.”

“I'd meant to,” he said. He waved a hand at his clothes. “I let them dress me up as if I was some kind of king.” His smile wavered. “But I don't think I'm in the mood to celebrate. I'll leave that to my sailors. They need to. The whole island does.”

“I think you do too,” Jala said. She laid a hand gently on his uninjured arm. She could feel the wiry muscles beneath the light silk. “Celebrate with me, at least, if you don't want to join your family.” She hesitated, knowing where this could lead. But she wanted to be with him, and from the way he kept trying to sneak glances at her, he wanted to be with her, too. “Why don't we go to those hot springs you kept going on about? We can talk there. Or not.”