‘It is what Zaelis said that worries me,’ Kaiku explained.
Lucia seemed to sadden a little. They both knew what she referred to. Earlier, Zaelis had toasted Lucia’s recovery, and asked her when she would be ready to tackle the spirits again. Kaiku had responded somewhat irately on Lucia’s behalf, telling him that Lucia was not some tool to be sharpened until she was useful enough to wield against an enemy. She had already suffered some unknown trauma that even she did not understand; Kaiku admonished Zaelis for even thinking about pushing her further. It had cast a momentary pall over the midday meal; but then Yugi had defused the situation with a well-chosen comment, and both Kaiku and Zaelis had dropped the matter. In retrospect, Kaiku felt that she had been overprotective, a reaction fuelled by her anger at the fact that she had not been told of Lucia’s ordeal until after the assembly. Yet she could not stop fretting about it.
‘Do not listen to him,’ she said. ‘I know he is like a father to you, but only you know your capabilities, Lucia. Only you know what you are willing to risk.’
Lucia’s pale blue eyes were far away. She was not too much shorter than Kaiku these days. Kaiku’s gaze flickered over the burns on the back of her neck, and she felt the familiar jab of guilt. Burns that Kaiku had given her. She wished that Lucia did not wear them so openly.
‘We need to know,’ Lucia said quietly. ‘About what happened on the river.’
‘That is not true,’ Kaiku responded, her tone sharp. ‘Heart’s blood, Lucia! You know as well as anyone that the spirits are not to be trifled with. Nothing is worth risking yourself like that. Start small again, if you must. Work up to it.’ She paused, then added: ‘Zaelis is sending spies to investigate. Let them do their work.’
‘We may not have time,’ Lucia said simply.
‘Are those Zaelis’s words, or yours?’
Lucia did not give a reply. Kaiku felt her mood souring a little, but she was unwilling to let this go. She tried to keep the stridency out of her tone in the spirit of the occasion.
‘Lucia,’ she said softly. ‘I know the responsibility you have to bear. But even the strongest backs bend under the weight of expectations. Do not let anyone push you. Not even Zaelis.’
Lucia turned to Kaiku with a dreamy expression on her face. She had heard, even if she seemed inattentive. A part of her was listening to the wind, and the ravens who watched her from their perches on the rooftops.
‘Do you remember when Mishani came to you in the roof gardens of the Imperial Keep, carrying that nightdress for you?’ Kaiku asked.
Lucia nodded.
‘What did you think? When she offered it to you?’
‘I thought it would kill me,’ Lucia said simply.
‘Would you have taken it?’ Kaiku asked. ‘Would you have worn it, even knowing what it was?’
Lucia turned away slowly, looking back out over the town. A clamour of drunken men staggered across the bridge behind them, hollering bawdy songs. Kaiku flinched in annoyance.
A silence stretched between them.
‘Lucia, you are not somebody’s sacrifice,’ she said, her voice becoming gentle. ‘You are too unselfish, too passive. You are not a pawn here, don’t you see that? If you do not learn that now, then what will you be like in the years to come, when people will look to you with even greater hope in their eyes?’ Kaiku sighed, and put her arm around Lucia’s slender shoulders, hugging her companionably. ‘I think of you as a sister. And so it is my job to worry about you.’
A grin touched the corner of Lucia’s mouth, and she returned the hug with both arms. ‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘To be more like you.’ The grin spread. ‘A big, stubborn loudmouth.’
Kaiku gave a gasp of spurious disbelief and pulled away from the hug. ‘Monster!’ she cried, and Lucia fled laughing as Kaiku chased her off the bridge and up the street.
Night fell over the Xarana Fault. Fires were started and paper lanterns were lit in warm constellations. The darkness lay muggy and sultry around the periphery of the celebrations, but within the light all was merriment. The communal feast was well underway. Many people had already left the table to make room for others, and had gone to watch the actors performing on the stage, or were dancing to an impromptu orchestra of six musicians who were improvising their way around