Jala's Mask (37 page)

“And how do we do that?” Azi asked.

“We need a disguise,” Marjani said. “So it's a good thing we're in a city of masks.” Then she told them what she wanted to do. When they'd agreed on a plan, she glanced at the door. “We need to get you inside, where no one will notice when we change places. You could hide in my room. No one bothers me there. Could you follow us without being seen? I think I can trick the guard into taking us the long way around, where there's hardly anyone in the halls.”

“I can try,” Azi said. He looked at the captain. “We'll need a boat to take us down the river. Something fast if you can get it, but any fishing boat will do, so long as it doesn't sink.”

Marjani nodded. “I'll throw two stones over the wall if everything's ready to go. Three if something's gone wrong.”

“We'll watch for it,” Darri said, “and if we see three stones we'll have the rope and hook ready to get you back out.”

“Thank you,” Azi said to the captain. “For everything you've done.”

Darri took his arm and held it tightly. “I'll see you soon, my king. And then we can go home.” But she wasn't speaking to him as if he was a king. More like a captain to a young sailor, trying to instill confidence he didn't have. It helped.

“Thank you,” Azi said again.

Then Captain Darri waited for the guards along the wall to pass and threw the rope again, while Azi pressed himself against the wall beside the door. Darri reached the top of the wall, and then she was over. Azi heard only the slightest scuffle as she landed, and then there was nothing. They waited just a moment longer, Azi and Marjani both holding their breath, straining to hear a shout from a guard—but there was nothing. She'd gotten away.

Now it was their turn.

Marjani opened the door and made it clear to the guard she wanted to be taken back to her room. Then when the guard turned around, Azi slipped past and Marjani closed the door. That was the worst moment, wondering if the guard would turn around before Azi had found any kind of nook or shadowy corner to hide in. But the guard didn't turn around, and Azi pressed himself against a wall and waited for them to move ahead so he could follow away from the light spilling from the guard's lamp.

Just as she'd said, Marjani insisted on taking detours as they walked. The guard didn't argue. She seemed resigned to her charge's strange, incomprehensible ways. Marjani led them through parts of the palace that had clearly seen fire and bloodshed, and now were dark and mostly empty. It made it that much easier to spot anyone else carrying a lamp, and gave Azi time to avoid them.

It seemed to take forever, but in the end they reached Marjani's room without incident. Once the guard was gone and the way clear, Azi ran over and knocked softly. Marjani let him inside and quickly shut the door. Then they both leaned against the wall and tried to catch their breath.

Azi slept on the floor that night, the sound of the river underneath them filling his dreams. The next day he spent hiding under her bed while she was gone, just in case someone came in to clean. For company he had only his own fears, sailing in circles in his mind, and the occasional sound of footsteps or voices in the halls beyond the door to make his stomach drop and his heart skip.

Jala ate alone except for Marjani. She would have preferred a feast so she could be surrounded by voices, so she didn't have to feel so alone. But she didn't like having others see her without her mask. She didn't like how naked she felt, didn't like the way they looked at her.

It wasn't until halfway through the meal that she finally noticed Marjani's clothes, a flowing robe of dark silk that shimmered in the firelight.

“Where did you get that?” Jala asked.

Marjani smiled at this. Jala knew she often went through whole meals without speaking, and she often forgot to even ask how Marjani was doing. It was hard to remember things like that.

“Do you like it?” Marjani asked. “I asked my guards for something a Hashon noble might wear, and they let me pick this out.”

“I liked your other clothes better. They reminded me of the islands,” Jala said. Her voice sounded dull, even to her. Her tongue felt thick and slow.

“All they reminded me of was how long it's been since I'd had them washed,” Marjani said, laughing. Jala didn't often laugh anymore, but Marjani made up for it. She was grateful for that.

“But I was wondering,” Marjani went on. “I saw some of the nobles wearing masks, too. And even some of the servants. Are they the same as your mask? Do they also talk?”

“Every mask talks. Every mask is a purpose and a reason. Every mask lets you hide yourself behind an idea. Some ideas are just louder than others.”

“Could I have a mask then?” Marjani asked, only half-looking in Jala's direction.

Jala started, and for the first time in the entire conversation her voice took on some of her old self. “Why would you want something like that? I want to be able to see you.”

“I'd take it off when we're alone together,” Marjani said. “But the guards and servants all look at me like I'm some kind of exotic fruit they've never seen before. It makes me trip over my own feet. It wouldn't be a Hashon mask, of course. Something from home. Not a mountain. I don't think your Lord Water would like that. A reef? A killer whale? I've seen painters here, I could try to describe home to them.”

“You don't speak their language,” Jala said, dodging the question.

“I'm getting better at it,” Marjani said. “Listen.” She repeated some of the words she knew.

“Oh,” Jala said.

“You don't know what they mean, do you? You don't remember any of it when you take off the mask?”

Jala shook her head. “I can feel the words on the tip of my tongue, but when I start to speak, they're gone.”

“We'll leave soon. I promise,” Marjani said. “I'll get us home, somehow, once I know more words.”

“There's nothing for me at home,” Jala whispered. “If you wish to go, just say the word and I'll send you to the Constant City.”

“No. Not until you say you'll come. Until then, can I have my mask?”

Jala sighed, and nodded. The emotion she'd felt a few moments before was gone. That's how it was so often now. If she felt anything at all, it was only for a brief moment. Even her guilt at letting Marjani stay was weaker every day.

Then she noticed she had finished her food, and without a word she left the room through another door disguised as stone.

Lord Water was waiting for her.

The next morning, Marjani had her mask, and Azi began to think their plan might have a chance. She wore the mask with the same flowing robe she'd asked for the day before. From what she'd told Azi, it sounded similar to what the Hashon lords wore, meant to obscure the person wearing it. Marjani spent most of the day walking around the palace and letting herself be seen.

When she finally returned, she tore the mask off her face and stuffed it in a chest beneath her clothes. She shuddered. “They've started calling me Lord Far-From-Home, the Lost Lord. They think I can't understand them, but I can.”

“They actually think you're some kind of god?” Azi asked, incredulous. “Just because you're wearing a mask?”

“They don't mean it,” she said. “They think I'm crazy and they're making fun of me. But what if wearing it really does invite some kind of demon into my head? What if I lose myself just like Jala did? What if you do, and I'm here all alone again?”

“If that happens, you'll think of some other way to get yourself and Jala out,” Azi said. “Darri and her crew will still be out there waiting for a signal. But it's just a mask. Nothing's going to climb into our heads.”

It was an hour before Jala usually sent for Marjani. Time to change. Marjani passed the mask and robe to Azi and helped him with the straps. Smooth, dark lacquered wood pressed against his face, the thin eye-slits blocking out the light. His heart beat faster and he tried not to think of demons or gods.
It's just a mask
, he told himself.

“How are you supposed to see out of this thing?” Azi asked.

“You get used to it,” Marjani said. “Just try not to fall over, or the guard will try to help you up, and then she'll figure out you're you instead of me. Remember to keep your head down and your shoulders hunched so they don't notice that you're bigger than me.”

“I know,” Azi said. “All I have to do is stay quiet and follow the guard to Jala and they'll leave me alone with her.”

“Try not to stomp too much when you walk, either,” Marjani said. “You're a scared, skinny girl, all right?”

“You don't look very scared to me,” Azi said.

“I'm terrified.”

“That makes two of us, then. You're sure she won't have the mask on?”

“Never at dinner. She can't eat with it on. Once you have her, which way do you go?”

Azi shut his eyes. “Second hallway on the left, then another left, down the stairs, straight through the gallery.” He'd spend the day memorizing the way out of the palace, and Marjani had even included alternate paths if any of the guards were in the wrong place. Once he had Jala, they were going to meet up and take the sewers out of the palace, just as Jala had when she'd first fled with Lord Water. Hopefully Darri and a crew and a fast riverboat would be waiting for them.

“Hey!” Marjani snapped her fingers in front of Azi's face. “This is going to work. It has to, right? What do they care if three islanders get away? They probably won't even look for us. Oh, one more thing.” She opened a small pouch and pulled out a necklace made of pearl, then another made of silver and hung them around Azi's neck. “In case something happens, you should be able to sell these somewhere. I've been asking for all sorts of jewelry just in case a chance like this came along.”

When the guard arrived to escort Marjani to dinner, Azi followed the woman into the hall. He stared at his feet through the slits in the mask as she led him through a dizzying array of hallways until they reached the room where Jala took her meals.

The stone door opened in front of them, and the guard nudged him to go in.

Wait for him to leave before saying anything
, Azi told himself over and over. He was going to see Jala again. He was going to take her home.

“I thought you promised you wouldn't wear it all the time,” he heard Jala say. “Not with me.”

It was the first time he'd heard her voice in months. Her words were heavy with regret and exhaustion, like she'd been drained of life. From everything Marjani had said, even her talking like this was rare.

She was so close to him. All he wanted to do was to reach out to her, tell her everything he'd thought as he waited for her on the First Isle, as he traveled the Great Ocean and the ocean of sand just so he could be with her again.
Fill your sails with hope and see where that gets you
, the more cynical sailors liked to say. Well, it had gotten him here. To her.

“You're quiet today,” Jala said. “Come and sit down.” Azi was frozen in place. If he moved, he'd run to her and ruin everything. The guard was leaving, but so slowly. Far too slowly. In another moment he'd tear off this damned mask.

“Marjani? What's wrong?”

The door closed behind him with a heavy thud, and finally Azi allowed himself to look up at her.

She looked thinner, as if she hadn't been eating well. Her face was drawn, and there was a grayness to her complexion. She looked drained, yet her eyes were bright as if with fever. His brother's eyes had looked like that before he died. This wasn't the same Jala who had sailed away.

But it was still her. His heart beat quickly, blood rushed in his ears, but it was all something happening far away. In his head this moment had taken place a thousand times, and each time he'd known what to say.

In each of them, he'd assumed that he'd be able to speak.