Chapter 16 The Ionian Village #2
“I will be right back,” she promised. “You can find Ramses or play with the kids. They would be more than happy to teach you their game.”
Namir’s gaze shifted to the group of kids. “Very well.”
Zahra took the plates back to the table. She discarded the remainder of her food in the pigs’ pen and placed the plates with the other dirty dishes.
“Zahra,” Heba said from the table. “Are you unwell?”
“I ate something earlier that did not agree with me.”
“O chara.” Heba pouted. She handed her task of cleaning off to another and placed her hand on Zahra’s back. “Come, come. Let us get you one of my tonics.”
“I am fine,” Zahra insisted, but Heba guided her to her home anyway.
Zahra sat in an old wooden chair as Heba disappeared into a different room. Her body was still weak from earlier, despite how much she had wanted to enjoy Heba’s cooking. She wished she could sleep, but she had much to do before the day’s end.
Heba returned with a variety of plants and a mortar and pestle. She crushed the plants one by one, adding them to a small cup. She held a candle beneath it, muttering words in Ionic as she mixed the brew together.
Zahra looked hesitantly out of the window. She couldn’t see Namir or Ramses, but she worried what they would think if they saw it. Heba was only reciting prayers, much like the ones her father had learned to say for rituals at the temple, but to an Auran, her words might seem too much like magic.
Heba finished the tonic, and Zahra took it with grateful hands. “Thank you.”
Heba nodded. “Of course, o chara.” She stood to clean up the mess. As she returned things to the other room, Zahra saw a gorgeous blue fabric hanging on the wall.
Zahra sipped her drink once more before following Heba into the room.
A thin mattress sat on the floor, and various fabrics sat in piles.
The fading light of the sun fell through a small window.
Heba put the things back in her chest as Zahra approached the dress.
It was a chiton, a soft and beautifully crafted gown made in Ionia.
She knew the craftsmanship well—Heba herself had made the dress.
Heba glanced back at her. “It was for Isadora’s wedding.”
“I remember.” She smiled softly and felt the soft fabric between her fingers. “I would pretend that I was wearing it and dance in front of the stream in the garden.”
Zahra thought back fondly on the memories with Heba at Bahiti’s estate. She would recall her experiences with Isadora if she could, but she was young when she and Isadora had met. A long time had passed since the day their village was attacked and Heba had lost her only daughter to the invaders.
Heba smiled, her eyes distant and sad. “Isadora would have loved to see you wear it.”
Zahra dropped the fabric. “I couldn’t. It is hers.”
Heba shut her chest, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe her hands. “She is not using it.”
Zahra left the room. “Perhaps on my wedding day, I will.”
“Or if you will go to the Feast,” Heba teased. She followed Zahra out and eyed the darkening sky. “It has not yet started. You still have time to go.”
Zahra laughed. “I already told you, I would rather be here with you.”
Heba huffed, waving the cloth toward Zahra. “You can see us any day. Only tonight can you dance with the King.”
“I don’t think he would dance with me.” Zahra wished she could tell her that the King was out in the courtyard now, that she was helping him look for his lost bride, but she did not want to worry Heba.
“Nonsense. You will never know if you don’t go. I—” Heba’s smile morphed into a frown, and she dropped her cloth as she moved quickly toward Zahra.
Zahra’s brows knitted together as Heba grabbed her hands. “Heba?”
Heba did not answer, instead inspecting Zahra’s fingertips with worried eyes. She pulled Zahra back to the old chair, gently pushing her into it. “Wait here.”
Zahra stared at Heba, bewildered, as Heba disappeared back into her room.
After a few moments, she returned with a small box.
Inside the box was a variety of small crystals.
Heba pulled out six crystals—four quartz crystals and two opals—and she had Zahra rest her arms on the small table.
One by one, Heba laid the crystals on Zahra’s arms, laying the opals on each of her wrists.
Heba sat back and waited. For several moments, nothing happened.
Zahra began to move her arms. “Heba…”
Vibrations went up Zahra’s arm, and she froze. Her arms began to glow silver. The eagle’s feather was gone from her arm, and the skin had healed itself. However, the tips of Zahra’s fingers glowed orange.
Zahra looked out of the windows, afraid someone might see. “Heba!”
Heba said nothing. She took one of Zahra’s fingers in her hand, studying it.
Zahra glanced around once more before leaning closer to her hands. Small cracks had begun to work their way up her fingers, breaking the skin.
“How has this happened?” Heba muttered to herself. She glanced up at Zahra. “What have you been seeing in your dreams?”
Zahra thought of the keres and the dry and cracked sand she had seen in the Duat. Had the keres done this to her hands? “N-Nothing, Heba. Now, please—”
Zahra tried to move her hands away, but Heba pulled her back. “This is serious, Zahra.”
Zahra’s mouth went dry. “What does it mean?”
“Apollos.”
Zahra sucked in a breath. Apollos was a rare sickness among the Ionians. It came on suddenly and overtook a person with a fever so hot that it stole all their energy, and eventually their psyche—their soul—until they were nothing more than an empty frame.
“But I am not ill,” Zahra insisted. “I couldn’t have it.”
“It shows itself in the psyche first.” Heba met Zahra’s eyes. “It occurs when someone’s psyche is heavily strained, such as when an evil spirit attaches itself to them.”
Like the keres.
Heba shook her head. “But usually such spirits have to be with a person for years for them to have such an effect, and they’re usually driven away from our people by Selene’s protection. I would have noticed it long ago.”
Zahra swallowed hard. “Is there a way it would spread quickly?”
“Never in any case that I have seen.” Heba looked at Zahra. “Your psyche would have to be strained in a great way, and more than once.”
My death every night. It was the only answer.
Heba released Zahra’s hands and plucked the crystals from her arms. The glow disappeared. “I can figure out what kind of spirit has attached itself to you after the celebration. For now, I will get you a protective amulet.”
Zahra massaged her fingers as Heba left her. If not even Selene could protect Zahra, then she doubted that Heba’s crystals and prayers could. Still, she would take the amulet. Perhaps it would help.
Zahra stood as Heba offered her a small cord with a piece of black onyx. “This should ward off the spirits, and we can cleanse the spirit from you after the celebrations.”
Zahra took the cord and slipped it over her head. “Thank you, Heba.” She hid the amulet under her shawl before turning to the door. “Let me help you finish cleaning.”
Heba remained in the room as Zahra moved toward the door. “Zahra.”
Zahra paused. “Yes, Heba?”
Heba stepped toward her. “I am ready to listen whenever you need.”
Zahra smiled softly. “I know.”
Heba smiled, placed her hand on Zahra’s back, and led her outside. “Let us go help the others.”
Zahra helped gather the food into bowls as dusk claimed the land and the moon shone overhead. The group of kids laughed in the distance, hiding from view in the low light. Zahra saw Ramses still signing with the girl from before.
“Where is your other friend?” Heba asked.
Zahra’s brow furrowed, and fear gnawed at her chest. “I don’t know.”
The children ran into view, tossing around a ball.
Relief flooded Zahra’s chest as she found Namir among them, trying to catch the ball.
The children laughed, tossing it over his head with expert aim and nimble hands.
Zahra laughed in disbelief as Namir caught the ball, feigning tiredness so they could grab it from him.
“You should join them.” Heba gestured with her hand. “He only knows you here. It will be good for you to be with him.”
Zahra nodded. “Yes…I think I will.” She left her task behind and walked up to the group.
Namir stopped moving and grinned as she approached, even as the children were hanging on his legs and back, trying to get the ball. “Zahra!”
She grinned. “May I join?”
He smiled and tossed the ball in her direction. “Catch.”
Zahra caught the ball, fumbling with it in her hands. The kids detached from Namir and swarmed her. Zahra laughed and ran away. The moon grew higher as Zahra and Namir tossed the ball to each other, stealing it from the kids and running into each other when the kids stole it back.
Namir caught the ball from Zahra and was immediately tackled to the ground. Zahra laughed as the children shoved Namir into the dirt and sand. She leaned against a tree as they reclaimed the ball once more and called for him.
“I think I am done for now.” He grinned at Zahra as he walked over to her, breathing heavily. He was covered in a layer of dirt and sweat, his shirt half open, and his curls stuck to his wet forehead. He brushed his curls away from his eyes. “What is that game called? I have never seen it before.”
“Ouriania,” Zahra answered. “It is from Ionia.”
Silence filled the space as they watched the children play. “Do you ever miss it?”
Zahra raised her eyebrows. “The game?”
“Your homeland.”
“Of course.” She fingered her curls. “But it’s gone. Aur is my home now.”
Namir watched her hands. “What was it like?”
She smiled at his question. “Who knew the King of Aur would be curious about a dead land?”
He grinned. “I genuinely wish to know!”
Zahra laughed. Namir smiled as her laughter settled in her chest. She bit her lip as she looked up at the stars.
“I lived on a beach. My village had the most trees and the clearest skies. My mamá and patér would take me out on the Sea, and we would count the stars and tell stories of our ancestors who lived up there.”
Namir’s brows raised. “In the sky?”
“Our heroes were said to be placed there after death by the theos.” She glanced at Namir. “The netjeru, I mean.”
“And you lived by the Sea,” Namir said. “So there were no rivers like the Iteru?”
“We had rivers, but the Sea was our Iteru. I can’t explain it, but when I was out on the water, I felt as if I was one of the stars, dotting the Sea that was as vast and mysterious as the night sky.
” She sighed, closing her eyes as if to relive the salty smell of the wind that would hit her hair.
“I wish I could see it again.” She opened her eyes and found Namir staring at her. She laughed. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” He looked away suddenly, but something on her head caught his eye. “There’s a leaf in your hair.”
Zahra stilled as Namir stepped forward. His soft fingers intertwined with her hair, tugging on the object with gentleness.
His hand brushed her cheek as he did so, and their eyes locked.
Namir’s eyes were as deep as the night sky, and Zahra’s were as warm and bright as the setting sun.
Zahra couldn’t breathe as they stared at each other.
Namir pulled the leaf from her hair, and their trance was broken. He laughed uncomfortably. “I got it.”
Zahra stepped back and looked down, hoping her curls would hide her face. “Thank you.”
People began to gather around the fire, and Namir looked back. “What is going on?”
Zahra studied the growing crowd. “They’re offering Selene strength.”
Heba waved to her, and she waved back.
She turned to Namir. “You may watch, if you would like. All we ask is that you are quiet.”
Namir studied the fire. He nodded. “I would like that.”
Zahra smiled. “I will be back. It will not take long.”
The elderly Ionians formed a circle around the fire, while the remainder gathered in a line.
Zahra joined the end of the line, and a small family with two rambunctious children stepped up behind her.
There were many that watched from the side or distracted themselves with quiet games.
She thought of her father, wishing he could be here with her.
Zahra turned toward Namir. She had expected him to look unfavorably upon her and her people.
Instead, curiosity filled his face, and he sat respectfully.
She looked away, thinking of his touch and hating the heat that flooded her face.
When she looked back, Namir was watching her, the corner of his mouth tilted up.
Zahra turned from his gaze, tucking a curl behind her ear as the line moved forward.
The people before her brought with them bread and small pieces of carved wood.
The children held old toys, staring solemnly at them while their parents encouraged them.
With each Ionian that approached the circle of elders, a quiet prayer was said.
The precious objects were tossed in the fire, a small sacrifice for all that Selene gave them.
Zahra considered her empty hands. She had nothing to give. She had not thought about it this morning, and she had nothing but the clothes on her back. The idea came to her as she walked up to the circle of elders. Heba smiled. “What is your gift, child?”
Zahra lifted her left foot, slipping off her sandal. The other quickly followed, and she offered both to Heba. There were some snickers behind her—mostly from the children—but none of the elders sneered at her sacrifice.
Heba took the sandals, and the elders bowed, whispering a solemn prayer. The quiet song to Selene danced around them, softening Zahra’s heart and easing the stress weighing on her soul. For a moment, she imagined her mother, her smile as bright as the stars above their heads.
Namir gave her a puzzled look as she approached barefoot. “Why did you burn your sandals?”
“I had nothing else to give.” She sat beside him as the rest of her people offered what they could.
Her sacrifice was not much. Tomorrow, the day would repeat, and Zahra’s sandals would return. Yet, she knew her sacrifice was not in vain. While she was not sure what awaited her, she wouldn’t abandon her goddess, not when Selene had begun to show her the way.
“Zahra.” Heba approached as the crowd dispersed. “Ahmose is here.”
Zahra turned to Namir. “Shall we?”
Namir nodded. “I will fetch Ramses.”