a group of darukkars who looked our way, I said, “The Vorakkar was just…he was jesting when he spoke of you being my piki. I am not going to be his Morakkari. Ever.”
Her words struck me as being very careful as she said, “Even still, Missiki—”
I drew in a sharp breath at the title. It meant ‘Mistress,’ a position of power.
“If the Vorakkar assigned me as your piki, that is how I will serve you until he orders me otherwise,” she said. Her tone was cautious…almost apologetic.
“How about you call me Maeva instead of Missiki?” I suggested hurriedly. I understood what she was saying. She was duty bound to serve me, as if I were the Morakkari. I didn’t want to get her in trouble with the Vorakkar, for she was a member of his horde and was loyal to him, though he would certainly hear about my profound irritation with him sooner rather than later.
The female let out a little gasp, her eyes going wide. “Missiki, you should not give me your—”
“Name, lysi, I know,” I said quickly, waving my hand. “But please, I do not care for such things. If you do not wish to call me by my name, then please call me mokkira instead. Not Missiki.”
Her hesitation was palpable. It stretched between us before she finally nodded. “Lysi, mokkira.”
“And what should I call you? Lirilla?” I asked.
Lirilla was the term for a female acquaintance, though not quite a friend. Yet. It was a respectful term, however, so I knew she wouldn’t find offense in it.
“You may call me by my name since I am your piki, after all,” she finally said softly. Her eyes darted to mine and I saw a hesitant little smile cross her lips. She looked to be a little younger than me but not by too many years. “My name is Hinna.”
I knew I wouldn’t win on the whole piki issue. But I would take it up with Kiran, not with her.
“Hinna,” I said softly, inclining my head.
“Lysi.”
I gave her a small smile. Though we had just met, I liked her. I thought we could become friends during my time here. She seemed patient and kind as she guided me through the horde.
“Would you like me to show you the mokkira’s voliki now?” Hinna asked. “Your voliki?”
My smile widened.
Lysi, we would get on just fine.
“Lead the way.”
The Dakkari boy was sweating and looked at us wild-eyed when Hinna and I stepped into the voliki that would be mine to oversee.
I blew out a breath, my eyes flickering over the untidy surfaces, the spilled jars of medicine and brews, the dust that floated in the shaft of light that speared down from the venting hole at the top of the domed structure.
The boy looked bewildered, frowning, but then blushed when he saw Hinna. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a Dakkari blush, but the color of his golden, ruddy cheeks bloomed darker.
“Lysi? Do you…are you unwell?” the boy asked.
There was a dark green stain on the parchment-colored apron that was tied around his waist. His fingers were stained with what I believed to be the root that made uudun salve. His dark black hair reached his shoulders and was haphazardly tied behind him, strands escaping and sticking to the sweat at his temples.
It was quite warm in the voliki. Just like the bikkus’ voliki, I saw that there were ties that lowered part of the hide on the inside, to make windows. I went to them, unknotting them and lowering the flaps. Immediately, a breeze swept in, cooling and necessary.
“What—what are you doing?” the boy asked. “Nik, the mokkira always said when making the brews, the windows stay closed. The wind—”
“That batch of uudun is spoiled already. I can smell it,” I told the boy, gesturing to the pot that was bubbling over the fire. I went to it, peering down at its contents. “Lysi, the color is all wrong. Did you blanch them first?”
The boy blinked rapidly, the frown never leaving his face. His eyes flittered to Hinna and then back to me. “I skinned them.”
“Nik,” I said. “You always blanch first. Then separate the skin. Then mash them, but only in the complete darkness.”
The boy wasn’t quite a boy but his features were soft, his form slim. I guessed he was close to Hinna’s age, a few years younger than me. His eyes had a slight red tinge to them. His tail was black, dragging across the voliki floor.
“You’re…” the Dakkari