CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (19 page)

Tossing the red ensemble aside, Es-huh pulled out a very different style. Instead of an ornamented but comfortable set, Aavi endured the tight clasp of a tall mesh choker collar. Long, delicate metal chains hung down her middle. Es-huh took their ends and passed them under Aavi’s breasts, under her arms, and up her back where she hooked them to the back of the collar. The metal was icy cold, causing Aavi to shiver. When Es-huh slipped cloth sleeves that terminated in matching mesh cuffs onto her arms, Aavi welcomed their covering warmth even though the white linen felt scratchy against her skin and the cords that tied them to her upper arms were too tight.

“These go here,” Es-huh said, holding two tasseled disks over the centers of her own breasts. “They stick,” the servant explained. Aavi took the coverings and tried to press them against the middle of her breasts, but the tight collar kept her from looking down. She could only feel around and guess where they should go. Es-huh looked up from fastening a metal belt that suspended long curtains of white linen down to the arches and heels of Aavi’s feet, and laughed. “Princess, they are crooked.” She stood to reposition the nipple coverings, adding with a grin, “Your new master will like adjusting these for you. Slippers and rings now.”

Aavi watched Es-huh slide rings onto almost all her fingers and two toes on each foot. Then her feet were eased into open-toed flat shoes. She didn’t like the toe rings at all. Surely they would hurt when she had to walk. When Es-huh stood away and circled her making noises of approval, Aavi frowned. She didn’t like this outfit very much. She wondered if she should say so.

“You do look like a princess, Princess,” Es-huh judged, her fingers sweeping up and out from her temples to indicate a crown. “White and gold, you were born to wear such colors, don’t you think?”

Aavi grasped this chance. “I’d rather have blue,” she ventured, “like the sky.”

Es-huh glanced at the clothing basket. She had indeed brought along something blue, a sheer half-blouse with matching split harem pants. Its design was plain compared to the other clothes she had put on Princess, but Es-huh had some doubts about the girl’s ability to dress herself properly on her own after she was sold. Perhaps simple was best. The High Sulgi had once said that rich clothes made for a poor slave. Es-huh did not want to fail at the task the High Sulgi had assigned her.

“We try a blue one, then.” Es-huh yanked the tasseled disks off with unexpected quickness, causing Aavi to squeak.

Immediately forgetting the sting, Aavi began to bounce with excitement as she endured the time it took for Es-huh to remove the rest of the uncomfortable outfit. Soon she was dressed in the blue costume. It felt so good and soft. The blouse completely clad her shoulders and arms, and nearly covered her breasts, though a deeply scooped and gathered neckline threatened to drop away to expose them. At least none of it was held on by anything sticky.

“I really like this one, Es-huh,” Aavi said as the servant tied a wide scarf above the waist of the pants. The azure belt, shot through with multicolored threads, would serve to hide the lack of a navel from those whose business it was not.

“Good. Remember to take care of the clothes you are given. It is part of your duty as a good slave.” Es-huh picked up a different box and began picking out bracelets and ankle cuffs. She considered some earrings, but Princess had no holes in her lobes and there was no time to remedy that. After showing the girl how easy it was to slide on the wide, round ornaments, she looked for something that would give the outfit the perfect final touch.
 
“I think this necklace goes best with that outfit Princess. Put it on.”

“But - my other necklace? I want to keep it on.”
 

“What other necklace? You mean this one?”
 
Es-huh held up the dreadful metal collar.

Aavi pointed to her own her neck. “No, I mean the one I’m wearing.” Aavi grasped the whistle in her hand to make sure it was still there, and it was.

Es-huh stared blankly at Aavi. “You are not wearing a necklace Princess. Please, we have no time for games. We must get you ready for High Sulgi. He will punish us both if you are not ready for auction.
 
Put it on.”
 
She said firmly as she held the red jeweled silver chained bauble out.

Aavi did not want to see Es-huh punished, so she took the necklace and put it over her head. Es-huh stepped closer to adjust Aavi’s hair. Es-huh’s hand then reached down to untwist a section of the new necklace’s silver chain. Aavi tucked in her chin and looked down, worried that Es-huh might be about to take the bone whistle away from her.

But as Es-huh’s fingers brushed over it, Aavi could see that the whistle seemed to pass right through Es-huh’s hand. It was like the whistle wasn’t there at all, or it was made of air. Es-huh noticed the shocked look on Aavi’s face.
 

“Are you all right?
 
Is the outfit pinching you somewhere, Princess?”

Aavi took a small step back and tried to recover her composure, “N-no, I am fine. But . . . my necklace isn’t real.”
 
She had no idea how to explain this to Es-huh. She started to feel that wetness in her eyes and the tightness in her throat again.

“Well, you have a new necklace now, and it matches this outfit perfectly. As a slave, you will often have things taken from you. You have to get used to that.
 
Do not attach much to possessions, for they are not yours.
 
They belong to your owner.” Es-huh assumed that some old necklace Aavi was wearing when she was caught had been taken away and the stress of being enslaved had caused the girl to overlook this. Es-huh thought little more about it as she worked to calm Aavi down and drive the tears from her eyes. “You look very beautiful, Princess.” Es-huh held her arms out as if she was presenting Aavi to an audience of admirers.

“I - I do?” Aavi sniffed a little as her spirits lifted again. She looked at her arms and legs now that they were decorated with jewelry and fabrics. She did feel pretty and special.

Es-huh smiled as she gestured to the guard. “Perhaps we can ask what Oloth thinks.” She took Aavi’s hand and walked over to the guard. Es-huh could have asked him in a loud voice what he thought, but she was enjoying the moment. She gestured toward Princess as they stood before him. “So, what do you think, Oloth? Is she beautiful? Do you like her outfit?”

Oloth, always alert for some sort of trickery, took a defensive stance by the door. Nevertheless, he did take a good look at Aavi and smiled as men do when they see an attractive scantily dressed woman. “Yes, yes she is very pretty,” when Es-huh prodded him to answer rather than stare.

“And the outfit?”

“It’s grand,” Oloth shrugged. “But I liked her just as well before she put it on.”

Es-huh gave him a playful swat on his burly arm as Aavi beamed at the compliment. Since she had awoken in the City, she had often been told she was pretty; but there was something about being told your outfit was special that gave her a warm feeling inside that felt as if she had done some task particularly well.

“Thank you, Oloth,” she said as she looked at the man.
 

Es-huh turned to face her and put her hands on Aavi’s shoulders. “There, you see - you are beautiful and High Sulgi will be pleased. Now we add a few final touches and then we must take you downstairs, Princess.”
 
Es-huh then glued a thin glass gem on the spot where Aavi’s missing navel would be to further conceal the fact.

As they walked back toward the cage to make final adjustments to the outfit and pick up the rest of the fabrics, Aavi saw a new color glowing in Es-huh’s heart. It was a light purple and it seemed to reflect the same feeling of pride in a job well done that Aavi seemed to be experiencing. She couldn’t resist giving Es-huh a hug. “Thank you Es-huh for making me feel special.”

Es-huh hugged her back. “You are special.
 
High Sulgi knows this too.”

D’Molay ducked under the eaves of the boathouse as a brief downpour wet the dock. Despite the adventures he’d experienced after he parted from Aavi, he’d kept his promise to meet her when she returned from the Oracle. He peered through the sheet of pounding rain and picked out Mazu’s ferryboat approaching the shore. The goddess was a serene silhouette among other indistinct figures huddling under cloaks and blankets to escape the rain.

The cloud moved on and sunlight brightened the soaked shoreline. Those who had dashed for cover like D’Molay emerged from their hiding places and went about their business. A young couple with a little girl and a baby moved to the side of the dock and waved at the ferryboat. A few old fishermen and a musician with drums and horns slung over his back lined up with them. One of the boathouse men approached the aspiring passengers and directed them to step back until the boat was secured. D’Molay watched as Mazu tossed the workman a rope which he tied to a dockside post. Another line was cast in by a passenger in the rear of the ferry. Once that too was secured, the boat began to unload. Mazu’s passengers shrugged off their protective coverings and gathered their belongings. D’Molay scrutinized the travelers. He did not see Aavi.

Conflicting feelings of loss and relief welled up inside him. Her absence could only mean that the Oracle had been able to help her. Perhaps she had already regained her memory and gone back from wherever she’d come. D’Molay tried to be happy for that, but found he missed the girl. He normally did not connect so strongly with those he helped.
  

“Mazu.”

He hailed her as the last of her passengers made their way off the dock. She raised a hand to him and spoke briefly to the new travelers before coming his way. As the line of people climbed into the ferryboat, Mazu walked to him, her staff thumping the deck. Immediately, D’Molay knew something was wrong from the worried expression on her face. “Mazu, where’s Aavi?”

“She’s been taken.”

“Taken? What do you mean?” D’Molay was alarmed. It was not like Mazu to be so abrupt.

“Come with me if you wish. I am returning to search for her.” Mazu turned her back, leaving it to him to follow her or not. He hesitated, just for a moment. It would be so easy to leave this problem to the goddess. Then he remembered Aavi’s trust in him and chastised himself for even thinking of abandoning her now. A moment later he was impatiently waiting for the musician to stow his instruments so that he could take a seat in the ferry. As he stood in the boat, which bobbed slightly at the dock, he caught Mazu’s eye. She shook her head as he opened his mouth. “We will talk when we get to Buddha’s Retreat,” she said.

D’Molay found the lengthy journey almost unbearable. The fishermen would not stop trading tall tales and the musician’s flute was out of tune. The baby started crying halfway across the lake and the child’s parents soon began arguing about how to make it stop. Their little girl, thankfully, slept the entire way, winning her place as D’Molay’s favorite traveling companion.

When they reached the end of the voyage, D’Molay and Mazu remained in the boat as the others headed toward the shrine. D’Molay practically had to bite his tongue to keep his questions at bay. Finally, Mazu spoke to him.

“Aavi was gone when I returned to bring her back,” Mazu began. “Nianzu told me she did visit the Oracle, and that his students took her to a room to sleep. But one boy who was out in the night catching frogs saw a flying bat thing grab something that might have been Aavi from the forest. He showed me where.”

D’Molay listened grimly. “Take me to that place.”

After being given special permission to enter the grounds of Buddha’s Retreat, Mazu led D’Molay up the path toward the Oracle’s shrine, turning down another stone-lined walk that led past some smaller huts. They stepped into the shadow of the trees. Mazu pointed to a small open space. “The boy said it happened there. He could see from the pond.”

Turning, D’Molay saw a small body of water about thirty yards away. The moon had been bright the last few nights. Something happening where they stood could definitely have been observed from that place. D’Molay began to scan the ground, looking for any evidence that Aavi or, he hoped, some other unfortunate, had been snatched. Almost immediately he saw an area where the leaf-carpeted undergrowth was disturbed. He knelt down, finding something which made his heart sink.

“It was her,” he said, as he picked up the object. He held out his hand and showed Mazu the small green leather bag he had given Aavi. Most of the coins were gone, but a few still remained.