Jala's Mask (21 page)

“But you've gotten something out of him, yes?” Jala asked impatiently. “Tell me.”

“He wants you to pick up the book. He can't hold it, or he's scared to hold it? No, he's not allowed to hold it. By throwing it on the floor he's . . . offended it? That doesn't make sense.” Boka glanced back at Jala. “To be honest, I'm not sure he wants to see it at all. He's terrified of the damn thing, keeps saying that he can't look at it because his face is uncovered. Whatever that means.”

Jala picked up the book and brushed it off. She stared at it in her hands. “It's full of pictures. I don't know if they're supposed to be gods or what, but they're always masked. Look.” She found a page and showed it to Boka. The Hashon man pressed himself into the corner, turning his face away, covering his eyes with his hands. “I wonder if that's what he means when he says his face is uncovered. Something about masks.”

Boka shrugged. “It could be, my queen. Or he could be raving. There's no way to know, I suppose.”

Jala closed the book again. “This is what they came for,” she said. She looked up at Boka. “So you're wrong. There's a very simple way to know. Tell him he will have a ship and a crew to take him to the mainland, and from there he will take us to his lands and his people. They can have the book if they want it so much. It means nothing to us. We'll return it to its rightful place. Make him understand.”

Boka spoke for a long time. Finally, the prisoner nodded, his eyes on Jala.

“Good,” Jala said. “Now you just have to teach him how to talk.”

The next day, Jala took Azi to her room. “I want to show you something. This won't take long, I promise.”

“That's good,” Azi said. “You know how much I would hate to miss even a moment of politics with my uncle.” He smiled, but he still looked tired. He'd only had a day of rest, and since then he'd been busy preparing for another gathering of the five families. Until the Gana could grow new ships, their raiding routes were up for grabs. It was almost like a second Sectioning.
Only there's no way I can make things worse this time.

“I was brokenhearted when I heard he didn't want me to be part of your talks,” Jala said.

Azi snorted, then took her hand and leaned in close to her ear. “Was this just a ruse to get me up here?”

“No,” she said reluctantly. “I do actually have something to show you.” Jala let him go and led him to her table. She opened a small wooden box and took out some dried seeds. She shook them in her palm so they rattled softly. “Here, stupid bird.”

With a squawk and a flutter of wings the mainland bird the Rafa had gifted her flew in through the window and landed on the table. It tried to peck at Jala's hands until she dropped the seeds onto the table, where it ate them greedily.

When it was done, Jala tapped it on the head. “Sing me a song of the Hashon.”

The bird cocked its head to the side for a moment, then stretched out its neck and opened its mouth. Voices filled the room. Jala couldn't make out any words, and the singers never stopped for breath. The sounds rose and fell, creating harmony at one moment and discord the next.

The bird broke off abruptly and switched to one of its favorite dirty songs. Jala rolled her eyes and shooed it away.

“I think it's ugly,” Azi said after a moment. “Ugly and . . . strange. There's something about it. You keep waiting for the voices to come back together, like you're waiting for the tide. But how can they dance to that? The beat is something you'd play for a baby!”

“Maybe they don't dance,” Jala said. “I don't care whether they dance or not, as long as they leave us alone.”

“Everybody dances.” He leaned closer and touched two fingers to her heart. “Because only the dead don't have a drum.”

She thought he was about to kiss her, but a knock interrupted them.

“My queen, a ship has come,” Iliana said through the door. “A Bardo ship. They're saying it's your father.”

“My father? Why would he come in person?” But she answered her own question a moment later.
Because birds can be intercepted and made to talk.
The spark of joy she'd felt at the news was suddenly replaced by a queasy feeling in her gut. This was about the meeting. She looked back at Azi with regret. “I have to go see him.” She started toward the door.

“Jala, wait,” Azi said. “When you talk with him . . . try to make him understand. We need the families together. Whatever his plans were before, this isn't the time.”

“I will,” Jala said. “I promise I'll still be me when I come back, not Lord Mosi of the Bardo in a dress.”

That made him smile again, and he followed her down to meet their guests. Lord Inas was already waiting. He nodded at Azi but didn't bother to acknowledge Jala's presence. Her father entered the hall moments later, his ship's captain and a few soldiers behind him.

And, walking next to him, was Marjani.

“Marjani!” Jala ran to Marjani and hugged her tight. “I missed you, and I was so worried, and you have to stay for at least the season,” Jala said.

“Not if you're going to choke me like this,” Marjani managed, but she was smiling, and when Jala let her go they both laughed. Marjani looked her up and down, then smirked at Jala. “You don't look any different, you know. Same girl I grew up with. Are you sure you're really the queen?”

“I can't help that I've always looked like a queen,” Jala said, tilting her head up in mock pride. They laughed again.

Her father spoke by her side. “It's true, you have,” he said. “My little queen.” Jala turned to look at him. His smile was wide, and the wrinkles around his eyes made him look so kind. “And have you missed me, too?”

She hugged him, holding him as tightly as she'd held Marjani a moment before. “Of course I missed you,” she said.

“Just as I've missed you,” he whispered, hugging her back. “There's so much to do. These are exciting times, and I know it's frightening, but you should be excited, too. Great things are in store for us. For you.”

Jala pulled away from him, a feeling of unease burrowing its way into her stomach. “What are you talking about?”

Her father waved a hand. “Later, my little queen. For now you should be with your friend. Grayships are no way for an old man to travel. I need strong wine and a soft bed and several hours before I'll feel much like talking.”

He'd been talking about how old he was getting since Jala was eight, and anyone who'd seen him dance couldn't believe it, but she was glad for the excuse. “Let me show you around,” she told Marjani.

“Don't I get to meet your husband?” Marjani said innocently, looking over her shoulder to where Azi was greeting the Bardo captains.

“You met him the same day I did. Come on already.” She dragged Marjani out of the hall and back up to her rooms. As soon as the door was closed Jala hugged Marjani tight again. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming?” she asked. “You could have sent a bird to give me something to look forward to. I've missed you so much.”

Marjani grinned. “You already said that. You'd think the queen would have more to occupy her time than missing me.”

“No,” Jala said. “With everything that's happened, I missed you more than ever.”

Marjani's smile faded, and for a moment she looked older. Tired. Marjani took her hand. “I missed you, too. But I'm here now. Oh, your mother sends her love. I don't think she knows what to do with herself now that you're gone. She's spent so long preparing you for this, and suddenly she has so little to do. Everyone thinks she's going to go crazy. If your father would let her start marrying off some Bardo nieces and nephews, maybe she'd calm down, but he wants her to wait.”

“Wait until what?” Jala asked with a laugh.

Marjani shrugged. “You know how your father is. He has plans. I'm sure he'll talk you to death about them soon.”

Jala sighed. “The last time he had plans, I don't think it went that well. Not for me, anyway. How long are you here? It had better be a while. I demand it.”

“Oh, you demand it? Then I have no choice but to do whatever my queen commands.” Marjani made an elaborate bow. “But you owe me news. Is it true that you went to the Lone Isle? What was it like?”

“Not as exciting as it sounds,” Jala said, but she told the story anyway. Marjani oohed appreciatively at the descriptions of the people there and shuddered in sympathy as Jala described the potion Kade brewed and her strange meeting with the sorcerer-thief Askel.

Jala finished her tale, and Marjani was quiet for a while. “Do you have the book here?” she finally asked. “Can I see it?”

Jala pointed to a chest pushed against the wall. “It's on top. I didn't want the bird trying to eat it. Be careful with it. I plan to give it back to them, if I can.”

Marjani flipped through the pages carefully. “It doesn't really seem worth it.”

“No. It doesn't,” Jala said. “I'm really glad you're all right. That none of them landed on the Second Isle. I was so worried, I had Azi send part of the Kayet fleet, just in case.”

“I know,” Marjani said. “And thank you for that. I just wish you could have sent them all to the Fifth Isle instead. I know there was no way you could have known. I don't blame you. No one does. We didn't even know about the Gana until that bird came from the king, even though we could see the smoke in the distance, just a faint black line. It didn't seem like much until you got closer, when you could see how much had been burned down, and could see the . . . the bodies in the water.” She drew in a shivering breath.

Jala started. “Wait, you were on the Fifth Isle? When?”

“I went with Nara, the friend I told you about. She didn't know if her family was all right. I got her a spot on one of the first barges your father sent. I thought she might need a friend.”

“And did she?”

Marjani nodded. “Her father was killed, and one of her brothers was badly hurt. Her mother and sister survived, though. They were lucky.”

Jala pulled Marjani close and held her. “I'm sorry,” Marjani whispered. “We should talk of something happier.”

“At least my father sent help. And I mean to keep this from happening again. If we return the book . . .” The words sounded hollow, now. Whatever she did wouldn't lessen what Marjani's friend went through, wouldn't help any of the Kayet or Bardo who had died fighting on the Fifth Isle. Wouldn't let Azi and Marjani forget the destruction they'd seen. Or maybe it was that the whole plan felt so hopeless.
Am I really only sending someone off to die?

Marjani wiped her eyes on Jala's bedsheets. “It's all right, I'll be fine. Maybe I just need some wine, like your father. I don't like ships much, and the memories are still fresh.” She leaned back against the wall and looked around. “I like your old rooms back home better, but these aren't too bad. And I bet the food's good, with all sorts of exotic treats from the mainland. Why don't you have some brought up?”

Jala nodded. “I'll do that. But I should—”

“—probably go talk to your father, I know. You go do that while I pull myself together. And Jala . . .” For a moment her voice turned serious again. “Listen to him. He sent those ships to help the Gana, and he saved the rest of Nara's family, but there's more to it. He has a plan.”

That's what I'm afraid of
, Jala thought. But all she said was, “It'll be all right in the end. We'll make it right, Azi and I will. I'm sure of it.”

Marjani looked up her. “You've never said ‘Azi and I' like that before. You love him, don't you?”

Jala nodded. “If this isn't love, then the real thing would kill me,” she said softly.

“Ah, my little queen,” Jala's father said. “You've done so well, as well as I ever could have hoped.”

Jala smiled up at him. Even after everything that had happened, even though she wasn't a little girl anymore, his praise still meant so much to her.