Chapter Thirteen #5
The bushes moved and I braced for Nize or a Hollow, but it was Taio. His eyes landed on my face and then darted lower. The heat already in my cheeks burned hotter as I remembered I was naked. Taio immediately turned around, giving me his back. “I apologize,” he said.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” In fact, if I hadn’t just had my mind scrambled with Gaz’s words, I wouldn’t have minded Taio coming upon me. I might have wanted him to look a little longer before turning away. “I’ll be dressed in a moment.”
“I’ll come back.”
“No,” I said. “Stay.” I didn’t want Gaz returning, if he was still nearby. I bent and resumed washing my leggings, hurrying a bit now. But my hands were shaking from the shock of Gaz’s words, and I kept dropping my garments. My father would send an army...
“I thought I heard voices,” Taio said.
I reached for my tunic, but my hand froze at his words. I shook harder as I realized I should tell Taio that Gaz was here. I should have told Taio what Gaz had said immediately. Why hadn’t I? Why had I kept quiet and allowed Gaz to escape?
Loyalty? Yes. I’d been trained to protect Gaz for years, and now it was almost second nature.
More than that, telling Taio about Gaz’s treachery—my father’s possible treachery—felt disloyal to more than Gaz.
It felt disloyal to my people. I didn’t want Taio to know about my king’s dishonor.
I didn’t want him to think of my father like that.
I couldn’t bear to think ill of my father.
I lifted my tunic, dropped it, and lifted it again.
Now was not the moment to reveal the truth.
“I was singing to myself,” I said, hoping the lie sounded believable.
I just needed time to figure out if what Gaz had said was true.
I couldn’t tell Taio my father was sending an army if Gaz was lying to scare me.
“You sing?” he asked, sounding almost amused.
Oh, gods, I hated this. No, I did not sing. I knew one or two children’s songs, and that was all. My people did not sing. We fought and trained and kept quiet so as not to attract Hollows. “Sometimes when I am alone,” I said.
“I would like to hear one of your songs. I did not think the people of Earsleh had music.”
I finished with the tunic and began rinsing my hands and feet. “We are not a musical people, like you. We try to keep quiet, even inside the castle walls, so as not to attract Hollows.” I reached into my pack and withdrew clean clothing.
He made a sound of disbelief. “I could not survive without music,” he said. My arm caught in my tunic, and I flailed about for a moment before pulling it over my head.
“It means that much to you?” I pulled my leggings on. “You can turn around now.”
“Like Yung I play the guitara.” He turned and his gaze roamed over me, lingering on my wet hair. “I sing.”
I gaped at him. “You sing?”
“Of course. All my people sing, but some of us have better voices than others.”
I smiled, rather liking that he was proud of his singing voice. Leaves rustled, and I braced, praying Gaz hadn’t returned. But it was Omira. “Did I hear my brother crowing over his singing voice?”
“He claims he sings,” I said, wringing the water out of my hair again.
“He does. He has an enviable voice. But then so do I.”
Taio smiled. Another smile! I wished he would smile at me more. He was so handsome when he smiled. “When we are home, we will sing for Mara.”
She nodded. “And dance.”
He chuckled, a low sound that made a shiver run through me. “I leave that to you.”
“And now we will leave you to bathe. You stink.”
Omira and I took our wet clothing and carried it back to where Yung and Kintle waited.
We sent them to the pool and took turns watching and patrolling while the other hung wet clothing to dry.
We could hear splashing, but the men were remarkably quiet.
Only the low rumble of voices rose above the sounds of the rushing waters from this part of the brook.
“This is a good place,” Omira said. “The water will cover our voices.”
“It will prevent us from hearing Hollows approach too,” I pointed out.
“You are no fun,” she said.
“Would you rather have fun or be alive?”
She bent to pick some berries from a bush, and I joined her, dropping them in a small sack as I picked.
“What is life without some amusement?” she asked. “I don’t think I would want a life where I could not sing or dance or play my cymbalas.”
“What are cymbalas?”
She huffed in disgust. “You really know nothing.” We moved to another bush. “Cymbalas are small instruments I wear on my fingers. I clink them together and make music.”
“Taio said your geography protects you from the Twilight Men.”
“Zleyval, our capital city, is at the joining of two rivers that flow into Lake Igo. We are naturally protected.”
Now this made sense to me. The sea and the steep terrain always served as a natural protection for Highcastle. If Zulen had been overrun by Hollows, it made sense that an enclave with water on three sides might survive.
“When we are at home, there is always music and dancing.” She sounded wistful, much as Taio had when he’d described the capital to me. “I fall asleep to it and wake up to it as well.”
I still found this description of Zulen so hard to imagine. “Your brother really does sing?”
She moved to another bush and began picking, but we were further from the water now and the berries scarcer. “He has a deep, melodic voice,” she said. “You will like it.” She wiggled her brows at me then laughed when I gave her a look indicating I thought she was strange.
“You are such a somber person, but I will have you dancing when we return to Zulen.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I simply cannot allow you to sit on the side with Taio. He has many talents, but dance is not one of them. But you—you can dance. You have grace and coordination.”
“I will not be dancing.” I would be too busy shoring up fortifications in advance of my father’s possible attack—that was if we made it to Zulen at all. There were Hollows and Gaz out there waiting.
“I think this is the best we can do,” Omira said, lifting her own sack of berries. “Let’s see if the men are hungry.”
“When have you ever known a man not to be hungry?”
She laughed. “Was that a sense of humor? There is hope for you yet, Mara.”