Angelica (63 page)

But that there was a connection between his sister and the invader Gaaron had no doubt. She laid a hand upon his knee, he brushed his elbow against her arm—they sat as close as lovers when they ate their meal. Surely that could not be true, surely even Miriam could not have gone so far, merely to spite Gaaron, merely to hurt him? And yet the smile she directed at that closed, dark face was full of private meaning; the hand she lifted to brush through her hair came to rest, for just a moment, against the young man's cheek.

Sweet Jovah singing, she loves him,
Gaaron thought, and the realization struck him so dumb that he could not summon another thought for the duration of the evening.

Sinai was crowded with more petitioners than Gaaron had ever seen crammed into the small audience chamber. A result of the depredations of the invaders, Gaaron guessed, as people came to the god looking for answers, or looking for sanctuary. After some discussion, he and Miriam and Nicholas had decided to veil Jossis as heavily as a Jansai bride so that they could bring him into the chamber without alarming any penitents who might be present. They still drew their share of curious stares while they waited for the acolytes to announce them to Mahalah, but at least no one ran screaming down the stone hallways in terror.

“Angelo. Please, will you and your guests follow me?” asked Mahalah's young acolyte, reappearing in the doorway. “She will be very happy to see you immediately.”

“Thank you,” Gaaron said, and led the small procession down the hall. Mahalah was sitting before her mysterious blue glass plate, but she wheeled around to face them as they entered.

“Ah, Gaaron, I know why you are here,” she said with a smile. “I am surprised it has taken you so long to come.”

He bent to take her frail hand in his and kiss her lightly on the cheek. “I am astonished that you have been expecting me,” he answered. “How did you know what I had to bring you?”

But now her eyes went past the arch of his wings, and
for the first time she saw his companions. “Miriam! What are you doing here? And Nicky—why, Gaaron, what is this? And who is your friend? Have you brought another Jansai girl to me for safekeeping?”

“Something even more exotic, I think,” Gaaron said as soon as Nicholas and Miriam had murmured quick greetings. “Be calm, for I think he will surprise you.”

“I am too old to feel much surprise,” she retorted. “What have you brought me?”

Gaaron nodded at Miriam, who tugged the veils off of Jossis' face. For a long moment, there was a profound silence in the room.

“I see,” Mahalah said quietly. “You have captured one of our enemies. But why have you brought him to me?”

“Miriam thinks he may know a language that you understand,” Gaaron said. “A language that our ancestors knew, at any rate.”

Mahalah's brows went up. “Indeed? That would mean . . .”

“I know,” Gaaron said, as her words trailed off.

“Let him speak to me, then,” she said.

Gaaron looked over at Miriam, who put a hand on Jossis' arm and urged him forward. She spoke a few words to him, so quietly that Gaaron could not understand what she said, and she stayed close beside him as he stepped up to the oracle's chair.

“Toteyosi,” Jossis said, or syllables that sounded something like that, and then he loosed a whole string of words that Gaaron could not divide into sounds or sentences.

But Mahalah was nodding, her face drawn into a frown of concentration, her hand lifted to ask him to slow down. “Ska?” she said once, and then a few more unintelligible words.

Jossis repeated something in a voice that sounded insistent.

Mahalah replied in a long, careful sentence.

A new voice sounded at the doorway. “Mahalah—” said a woman, and then she gasped. Gaaron looked over in
irritation, not wanting this delicate interview to be interrupted by the hysterics of an acolyte.

But it was no giggly young girl who stood framed in the door, staring at the unlikely tableau inside the chamber. It was Susannah.

S
usannah had two shocks to withstand within fifteen seconds: the sight of Gaaron standing in the oracle's chamber, and the force of Miriam's body as the girl threw herself in the Edori's arms.

“Susannah! Oh, I'm so glad you're here! Gaaron said he didn't know where you were, but I have so much to tell you, and you have to meet Jossis and—can you imagine?—I have been with the Edori all this time. But Susannah, why
are
you here? Is something wrong?”

Susannah kept her eyes on Gaaron's face a moment longer, trying to read his expression. Relief—concern—surprise—and then a shutting down of all emotions. Whatever had drawn him to Mount Sinai, it had not been her presence here.

Summoning a smile, she looked down at Miriam, giving the blond girl a quick hug before letting her go. “
I
came to check on Kaski,” she said lightly. “Nothing more alarming than that. But you! Traveling with the Edori! And what are you doing here?”

“I came with Jossis.”

Susannah's eyes lifted again, taking in the sight of the black-skinned man with the iridescent hair. Impossible as it
seemed, he appeared to be deep in a halting conversation with Mahalah, though a lot of repetition and hand gestures seemed to be required for him to make his meaning clear. “You have made friends with one of our enemies,” she said softly. “But of course you have. If anyone could, it would be you.”

“He is not an enemy. He is a good man. He got hurt and he has lived with us for more than two months, and he has told me so much—”

“But which tribe did you travel with as you lived among the Edori?” Susannah interrupted, although she knew. She just did not want Gaaron to know she knew any part of this story.

“The Lohoras,” Miriam said defiantly.

Susannah took a step back to ostentatiously look over the younger girl. “Yes, you certainly seem to bear the stamp of the Lohoras. I would swear Claudia embroidered that belt for you.”

“She did. And this is a shirt that was too small for Tirza. Dathan made the gloves for me.”

At the name, Susannah started, and then hoped no one else had noticed her reaction. Blessed Yovah, Miriam and Dathan. That would be a combination likely to set the whole prairie on fire.

But no. Miriam was here with the dark-skinned man, claiming him as her friend and watching him closely even as she hovered next to Susannah. Miriam had not made the calamitous choice of falling in love with Dathan. She had made an even worse one.

“You're right. We have much to talk about,” was all Susannah said. “Perhaps later—when we've sorted all this out—”

“Well, I'm staying here as long as Jossis stays here,” Miriam said. “So we can talk after Gaaron is gone.”

Mention of the name turned Susannah's eyes in the angel's direction again. He was standing beside Mahalah and the stranger, but he was watching his sister and his angelica. Nicholas had wandered out of the room shortly after entering it, muttering something about food.

So it was just the five of them.

“How did Gaaron happen to find you with the Lohoras?” Susannah asked, keeping her gaze on him.

“He was not looking for me. He was looking for you.”

And that Gaaron must have heard, because he finally walked over to greet her. His expression was still impassive, maybe a little stern. “No one knew where you had gone,” he told her. “I thought you might have sought out your Edori friends. Keren reminded me where they might be.”

“I'm sorry to have worried you,” she said, speaking as coolly as he had. “I thought I would be back before you returned. But Kaski was so happy to see me that I decided to stay a week or two.”

“I would have appreciated a note of some sort.”

“I will be sure to let you know all of my future movements.”

Miriam turned her head from side to side, watching each of their faces as they spoke. “You've argued about something,” she declared.

“No,” Gaaron and Susannah answered in unison.

“I hope it wasn't about me,” Miriam said.

Gaaron laughed. “I would not spend the energy on something so insignificant,” he told her.

Before Miriam could reply to that, Mahalah called out. “Miriam! Come here and help me with this.” And the blond girl skipped away, to leave Susannah and Gaaron face-to-face.

“What is the story here?” Susannah asked. “With Miriam and this man? Surely she cannot—but it seems—”

“With Miriam, there is no ‘surely,' ” Gaaron replied with faint humor. “She has taken it upon herself to befriend him—though to what extent I cannot be certain.”

“I will talk to her later and see what she will tell me.”

Gaaron looked at her. “You plan to stay here longer, then? I thought Nicky and I could take you back to the Eyrie.”

“I am not ready to go back to the Eyrie just yet,” she said.

He watched her a while in silence. She could read the trouble on his face—read also his thought that this was not the time and place to discuss it. “I wish you wouldn't be gone very long,” he said at last.

She smiled a little. “I have things to think about. I have found that this is a good place for thinking.”

“If you can get away from all the silly girls,” he said.

“I like the silly girls. But I also like the silence, and I have found an abundance of it here.”

“I must go back,” he said. “Tonight, or in the morning.”

She nodded. “Will you take Miriam with you?”

“I promised to leave her with Jossis,” he answered somewhat bitterly. “And I do not think I can break my promise.”

“Then I will watch her for you as best I can.”

That was the last private conversation they had, which was both a relief and a frustration to Susannah. Part of her wanted to rail at him, weep at him, beat him on the shoulders and force him to pay attention to what feelings lay between them. Part of her wanted to step back, as cool and remote as he, and say, “Very well. You have closed your heart to me. I can close mine to you. Let us see how long it takes you to realize that you are bound to me more tightly than you thought.”

Instead, they joined Nicholas, Jossis, Miriam, Mahalah, the three older women who helped her run the retreat, and a dozen gossiping girls for a tasty but somewhat tempestuous dinner. Every five minutes, one of the acolytes would burst into laughter, or shrink down in tears—two girls jumped up and left the table at different points during the meal—and one came in late, obviously moping. Mahalah treated them all with cheery kindness, though now and then she rolled her eyes at Susannah, impatient with all the display of temper. Susannah could only smile.

Kaski had elected to eat with the cooks in the kitchen, since there would be men present at the meal. Susannah had been amazed at how quickly Kaski had blossomed under Mahalah's care—the sullen child had become a shy but smiling little girl who would even talk now and then, in quick mumbled sentences. She had made friends with a few of the younger acolytes and positively adored Mahalah. There was no question that this had been the right place to bring her.

And when she was feeling more friendly toward Gaaron, Susannah would tell him so.

After the meal, Miriam dragged Susannah off to relate to her, in harrowing detail, the story of her last four months. They sat on the comfortable bed in the room that had been assigned to Susannah, blankets wrapped around their shoulders to chase away the chill. The tales of cold, hunger, and hard work were familiar to Susannah, and she could not help but see how well Miriam had functioned under the rough Edori lifestyle—but she was shocked by the reports of fending off attacks from invaders.

“You could have been killed—merciful Yovah—”

“Well, I wasn't,” Miriam said briskly, and went on with her recital. She rather delicately conveyed her interactions with Jossis, dwelling on the slow understanding that had built up between them, emphasizing his intelligence and his thoughtfulness, but Susannah could hear all the words that were not being said.

“I will have to make sure to spend some time trying to get to know this young man,” was Susannah's comment at the end. She took care to keep her voice noncommittal, so that Miriam did not think she either approved or disapproved of this development.

“I think Mahalah has him now. They went away together right after dinner.”

“Have you thought,” Susannah asked gently, “what happens to Jossis now? You say how well he fit in with the Lohoras, but—does he want to stay with them? With us? Doesn't he want to go back with his own people?”

“He doesn't like his own people,” Miriam said sharply, but there seemed to be a touch of fear in her voice nonetheless. “He wants to stay here.”

“But what do his friends want? If they came to the camp to find him that second time—surely they were trying to recover him—”

“He doesn't want to go with them. He'll continue to hide from them.”

“For how long?”

“Until they go away.”

“But what will make them go away? Has he told you that?”

Somewhat fearfully, Miriam shook her head. “Maybe, if
he can talk to Mahalah, he will tell her,” she said hopefully.

“He may not want to betray his friends.”

“They are not his friends! They are violent and cruel, and they have hurt him,” Miriam burst out. “He wants to stay here on Samaria, with the Edori and—and with me.”

Susannah nodded. “Well, then, we'll see if we can make that happen,” she said quietly. “We'll talk about it some more in the morning. Right now it's late, and time for bed. Kaski has been sleeping with me. Would you like to spend the night with us? Or . . .” She hesitated and could not bring herself to ask the words.
Or would you like to spend the night with Jossis instead?
It was ridiculous, she knew. Miriam had as good as forced them all to acknowledge that she was an adult woman, capable of caring for herself and making the decisions that would please her, if they pleased no one else, and yet still Susannah could not help looking at her as a rather willful child. And she could not bring herself to condone this new relationship, however intelligent and wonderful Jossis might be. “Or perhaps you would rather sleep alone tonight,” she ended lamely.

Miriam gave her a smile full of all the wickedness in the world, and impulsively leaned over to throw her arms around Susannah. “I will share the bed with you and Kaski tonight,” she whispered in Susannah's ear. “But not every night that we are here. Though I am thinking there might be another bed you should be sleeping in.”

Susannah drew away, blushing deeply. Yes, not only a woman, but an Edori woman; Miriam had grown up a great deal. “And I don't think the issue of where I sleep is of much concern to you,” she said.

Miriam regarded her with a teasing half-smile. “Just ask me,” she invited. “I can tell you how to handle Gaaron.”

Susannah sighed. “You can only tell me how to push him away,” she said. “I want to bring him closer.”

Miriam bounced once on the bed and then came to her feet. “Let's go say good night to him right now,” she said.

Susannah rather unwillingly stood up. “It's late. He may already be in bed.”

“All the better.”

“Miriam!”

“We'll just say good night. He said he was leaving in the morning. And then we'll get a snack and say good night to Jossis and find Kaski.”

Although Susannah was still protesting, they left the room to put this plan in action. The long, cool corridors were finally quiet—it
was
late, and most of the whispering, chattering girls had already gone to bed. Susannah had not thought she could learn to love any place of stone and silence, but she was at peace in Mount Sinai. It reminded her of the great mountain chapels where the Edori camped from time to time. Every rock, every seam between hallway and floor, seemed alive with the mystical presence of the god.

But she still did not want to live here. She wanted to be back in the Eyrie, if there was some sort of life she could work out with Gaaron—or among her own people, away from any shelter at all.

They found Mahalah in the great central chamber, but she was alone. “I sent Jossis to bed,” she told them. “He found both the trip here and the effort of speaking with me so exhausting that he could not concentrate anymore.”

“Where is he?” Miriam asked.

Mahalah shook her head. “He is sleeping,” she said gently. “You can see him in the morning.”

“Have you learned anything from him?” Susannah asked.

Mahalah regarded her a moment with her eyes narrowed. “Many things,” she said at last. “Not all of them, I think, should be repeated. Forgive me while I take some time to think through what I know.”

“Well, that's not fair!” Miriam exclaimed. “Anyway, it doesn't matter if you won't tell us anything. He'll tell
me
what he told you.”