Jala's Mask (7 page)

And there was the dress itself. Based on the whispers starting up around the room, the dress was a surprise to anyone who hadn't seen it yet. Everyone had expected the dressmakers to try to combine as many styles from the mainland as possible to show off how widely the Bardo raided. They'd tried, and the result had been a gaudy, uncomfortable thing. Jala's mother had made it clear to the dressmakers that a Bardo queen would wear something better.

“There's a difference between trying to convince them of our strength, and wearing it with confidence,” she'd said.

The dress they'd finally come up didn't use styles from the mainland at all, just the silks and dyes and cotton the Bardo often took from merchants who traveled between cities there. Jala let them dress her, first in a simple gown the color of white sand, cinched at her waist by a length of red and brown silk that was folded tight at one end and hung down her leg at the other. Over her shoulders they placed a blue tunic with white checks, and then over that loose shawls of green and red. All this they folded and twisted carefully to create the right effect.

It was, she had to admit, still uncomfortable to wear, and she didn't look forward to wearing it under the midday sun. But the effect was worth it. She was the Second Isle as seen from a distant ship: the white sand and tree line shining brightly in the day, then as she spun, the setting sun, the midnight sky, the moon reflecting in the water.

“Do you think he'll like it?” Jala whispered as Marjani tucked in a fold of the shawl.

“He's an idiot if he doesn't,” she whispered back. “You look amazing.”

The sun had only risen a few hours before when everything was finally ready, and Jala's family led her out onto the beach. In spite of Marjani's words, the Kayet were awake. The nobles and captains stood in solemn rows along one side of the beach, the Bardo nobles and captains along the other. Everyone else, the sailors and villagers, surrounded them in a great circle. A few of the nearest trees bowed with children brave enough to climb to the top in order to get a better view.

They all stared at Jala, and she knew the dress was worth it.

Then she saw Azi, standing at the other end of the line of people. But he wasn't looking at her dress. His eyes met hers, and she held his gaze, forgetting about everyone else.

But though later she would remember the day as just that one bright, burning moment looking into Azi's eyes, there was still a lot of wedding left before they could be together. There were stories first, about isles before the secrets of the shipwood reefs were learned, when each isle made war on the others. There were stories of the first king and queen and their great deeds, stories of the Thoughtless Boy and his disastrous marriages.

Then there were speeches. Jala's cousin Zalika had been married, and there'd been only two speeches, but now it seemed that every cousin and captain had something to say; neither family wanted the other to have the last word.

Finally, Jala and Azi stood on the beach together, surrounded by both families. The water sparkled from the bright noon sun, and the glare from the beach's white sand made Jala's eyes water. The sand had been pleasantly warm when they started, but it had become hot in the noonday sun. Her dress clung to her, and she could feel one of the shawls slipping, but she was afraid to make it worse by trying to fix it.

They were all saying the same thing. Jala was getting tired of being congratulated and flattered and congratulated again.

She snuck a glance at Azi. How was he not bored by this? If anything, he looked attentive. He stood perfectly still, and he met each speaker's gaze. He was a sailor before he was a king. Maybe he was just used to long, boring hours spent staring at the water. She watched him a while longer, until she caught him yawning through his nostrils during a particularly long speech. That made her feel better.

Finally, the wedding bird was brought out by one of the Bardo bird trainers. The bird was one of the prettiest Jala had ever seen, a male with a large yellow crest and bright orange-tipped wings. It cawed in a loud, clear voice.

The trainer held the bird carefully so it wouldn't struggle as he brought it to Azi. He nodded slightly, and Azi said, “I am Azi of the Kayet, king of the Five-and-One Islands. Jala of the Bardo will be my queen until I die.”

Then the bird was brought in front of Jala, and she said, “I am Jala of the Bardo, queen of the Five-and-One Islands. Azi of the Kayet will be my king until I die.”

“King Azi of the Kayet,” the trainer repeated. “Queen Jala of the Bardo. May their rule bring good wind and many riches.”

The bird repeated their names. The trainer released it into the air, and it flew out over the water, off to tell the Great Ocean and the winds that a new king and queen had been united.

Lord Inas handed Azi the Queen's Earring with a scowl, not even pretending to be happy for them. Jala affected not to notice. She tilted her head, and the king gently put the earring on her ear. The earring
was
a bit heavy, as Marjani had predicted, but it was a reassuring weight. It reminded her that she really was the queen. She wasn't going to wake up tomorrow and find out it was all a dream or that she was an imposter.

Everyone was looking at her, but she didn't think they were seeing her. They saw the Queen's Earring. They saw their queen. It was a facade she could hide behind, and she smiled confidently at them.

After the ceremony, Jala's mother and father came to her and hugged her tightly. Jala let herself cling to them like she had when she was a child.

“You make me so proud, my little queen,” her father whispered in her ear. “I look at you, and I think, how can they help but bow to you? We'll give that old whale Inas something to fear, yes?” Then he kissed her once on each cheek, and she didn't know if the wetness on her face were his tears or her own.

With the wedding over, Jala and Azi boarded a Bardo grayship. From a distance it looked narrow and sleek, as if it was made of wood like a common fishing boat. But up close you could see that the hull was gnarled and potted. Grayships weren't lashed together; they were grown from the coral surrounding the five islands. Jala had to be careful as she was helped aboard, for the coral was sharp and burned fiercely if it pierced your skin.

With the Kayet on one side of the ship and the Bardo on the other, they were pushed out into the water. A great Kayet barge waited for them, a grayship grown to show off their own power more than for any practical purpose. Even the term “grayship” didn't fit, for while most raiding ships were specially treated by the shipgrowers to turn them gray and make them hard to see, the barge's hull was all bright reds and pinks against the cool blue water.

The Kayet reefs were the largest of any of the islands. They could afford to flaunt their coral and the skill of their shipgrowers. And while even raiding ships had wooden planks over the coral hull, this one had a deck large enough for dancing and cabins where the king and queen could sleep in privacy and comfort.

Where she and Azi could sleep. Or not sleep. The thought made her heart beat faster and her mouth feel dry. A ship large enough for dancing and feasting, with food from the Kayet's own rich stores, and somehow Jala didn't think she was going to notice any of it.

Deep down, Jala knew she would cry for home later, when she was alone and it had all sunk in. But now excitement for what was to come rose in her, filling her up and leaving room for nothing else.

As the Second Isle receded, Jala could still hear her family cheering for her.

The start of their journey to the First Isle was a blur of songs and stories and drums. The deck of the barge trembled under Jala's feet. Unlike wooden ships, grayships were alive and could sense their reef even hundreds of leagues away. They were the only way to cross the Great Ocean that separated the islands from the mainland. Other ships got lost as soon as they were out of sight of land. Jala had felt a little lost herself ever since her family's island was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

She tried to distract herself by watching the sailors. This Kayet barge was even large enough for a few of the sailors to attempt the wind-dance, though the motion of the ship on the water made it that much harder. The wine didn't help, either. There was plenty of laughter and a few bruises, too.

They're not celebrating me
, Jala reminded herself sternly. She couldn't let herself forget that the Kayet were not her friends. That was what her father had told her. Or was it simply that, unlike Lord Inas who pointedly looked away from her, the sailors didn't much care what island their new queen came from? Maybe the Kayet weren't her friends, but they didn't all have to be enemies, either.

And maybe one of them would be something more fun than either option.

She'd been seated at one end of the expansive ship while Azi sat at the opposite end. He wasn't really watching the celebration but was instead casting her long glances every chance he got. Jala couldn't stop glancing at him, either. The wind blew, and his loose tunic opened, showing off his chest. She wished he'd wind-dance again. She wanted to see his muscles tense, see the way he moved with ferocity and grace. But he'd turned the offers down.

Maybe he was nervous. She was nervous after all. It wasn't as if she didn't know what a woman could do with a man. She'd seen men naked from afar, listened to the stories her mother had told her to teach her of such things, listened in when her cousins told stories that weren't meant for her to hear at all. But it was different now, with him, with the Queen's Earring pulling at her ear. This wasn't a dream, wasn't a kiss stolen on the beach beneath a palm tree.

It wasn't as if she had to do this. She could feign tiredness, or illness, or something. The illness was only a partial lie anyway—her stomach felt all queasy with nerves and too little sleep and too much wedding. The tiredness wasn't a lie at all.

But she did want to be with him. She was just . . . nervous. Maybe it was always like this the first time between men and women?
I wonder if it'll be any different for Marjani
, she thought.
Not so many new bits and pieces to worry about.
She didn't really think that was the problem, though. She was sure she'd like all his bits well enough. She liked the rest of him well enough.

Then she thought to worry if he would like
her
the same. Well, he had to, right? He'd chosen to marry her, hadn't he? And men were supposed to like breasts. She had enough of those, so let them do something useful for once. She shifted a little in her seat, tugging surreptitiously at her dress until it slid down her front just the slightest bit.

He watched her, and she watched him, and she watched him watching her.

The sun set with agonizing slowness. Stars filled the sky from horizon to horizon. No one danced, but the stories and laughter and wine flowed unabated, and the drums never slowed. They would beat all night, whether she was tired of them or not.

But they stopped for Lord Inas as he stood and clapped his hands for silence. “My friends, I think the time has come to put our king and queen to bed.”

The Kayet cheered and laughed, and then a Kayet woman gently touched Jala's shoulder. “I can take you to your cabin, my queen.”

Even the Kayet's oversized barge had only a few cabins, but the largest of these were the king's and queen's cabins at the rear of the ship, above deck. She followed the woman through a single door that led to a short hallway, hardly long enough to take three strides. The king's cabin was on the port side. Hers was directly across the hall.

The woman closed the door behind her as Jala entered her cabin. There was little more than a bed and a glass porthole, but both were unheard of on ships. Beds wasted precious space, and glass had to be brought back from the mainland. She wondered if Azi's bed was bigger than hers. The queen was meant to visit the king's bed so that she could leave and go back to her own cabin if she wanted. It would make sense to give the king's cabin a bed that could easily fit two.

Jala sat and waited, her heart beating quickly in time with the muffled drums beyond the cabin's wooden walls. There was a faint click as the outer door opened, then a slightly louder one as Azi opened and closed the door opposite her own.

Should she have gone to his room right away and surprised him? Did he expect her to be waiting for him already? Well, it was too late now. She sat on her bed and waited, giving him time. Or just putting it off, she wasn't sure which.

I wanted this
, she told herself.
I want this.
And she did. And she didn't. Her head and heart were filled with contradictions. Certain other parts weren't exactly quiet about making their opinion known, either.

Then she took a deep breath and stood, opened her door, and took the single step to Azi's door. She opened it. Azi froze, seemingly in the middle of pacing back and forth. He smiled hesitantly. His eyes were wide. “You looked beautiful today. With the dress and . . . everything.”