Jala's Mask (6 page)

“If you didn't have to marry him . . . if you could stay here. Would you still want to go?” Marjani asked.

Jala nodded. “I always wanted to be queen, and not just so I can help our family.” She grinned. “And I like the way it sounds. Is that terrible of me? ‘Queen Jala of the Bardo.'”

“Is that the only reason?” Marjani pressed. She seemed to want something, though Jala couldn't tell what. “What about Azi? If you weren't going to be queen, would you want to marry him still?”

Jala had to think about this for a little longer. Her parents had always told her she might be queen one day, that she might marry Jin. He was held up as her ideal husband, but she'd hardly known him. But being around Azi was different. He was real, not just
the boy who will be king
.

“I don't know if I'd marry him,” she said slowly. “Not right away. But I'd want to be with him, I think.” Her grin widened, and her face was warm despite the cool air. “I'd definitely like to try kissing him again. And then some. He's good at kissing.”

“What about that scar on his head?”

Jala shrugged. “He's a sailor, and sailors have scars. Don't tell me you never watched any of the younger sailors while they worked. Remember that time we sneaked over to the men's side of the shore to watch them bathing?”

“I remember,” Marjani said. She looked away from Jala and stared out over the water. “Has he tried to sneak into your room since you were betrothed?”

Jala sighed. “No! Not even for a quick kiss. Or a long kiss. Or
anything
.”

“I remember we used to practice kissing sometimes,” Marjani said.

“Ha, I remember that too.” She poked Marjani's arm. “You weren't so bad at it yourself.” She almost wished they could go back to those days, when everything was simpler and she didn't have to worry about whether she was good at kissing or not. “You'll be able to find someone to be with now, without me making things difficult. I know it wasn't easy the way my parents kept an eye on me.”

“No, I won't,” Marjani said. She took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for something she was afraid of. “Because . . . I did find someone. It just wouldn't have worked. Because for her, kissing me was only practice. Because she's getting married. Because she's going to be queen, and I won't see her again, and it doesn't matter if she never wants to speak to me again after I say this.”

Jala fell silent, not sure how to respond. She felt slower than a sea turtle on land. She and Marjani were together nearly every day and had been for years. How could she not have noticed anything? Was she that selfish? Only a terrible friend wouldn't notice her friend's feelings for her. Unless. . . . “How long have you felt this way?”

Marjani shrugged and looked away. “A few years, maybe.”

So much for hoping it was a recent development. No, Jala was just completely oblivious to things that were right in front of her.

Marjani kept talking, still not meeting Jala's eyes. “I didn't want it to change anything between us, so I never said. But then I thought about it, and I didn't want to have any secrets between us before you left. There's already going to be an ocean separating us. And I know you don't feel the same about me, and that's all right. I knew that, too, and I didn't think it would help anything to bring it up.”

She was speaking quickly, and Jala could tell she was going to keep talking until she'd convinced herself the world was falling apart around them.

“Marjani. Look at me. Can you even remember a time when we haven't been friends? I can't. Why would I ever stop speaking to you? So, as your queen, I order you to stop worrying.”

“I'm sharing my deepest secrets with you and you're making jokes,” Marjani said, not quite succeeding in sounding indignant. “And you can't order me to stop worrying.”

“I think I just did.”

“Well, then I'll rebel against you. I'll run away to the Lone Isle and become a sorceress and worry all I want,” Marjani said. “You'll be all the way on the First Isle anyway, how will you know?” Some of the sadness had crept back into Marjani's voice.

“I'll be back to visit,” Jala whispered. “And you'll come visit me, too, as soon as you can. I wish you could come with me now.”

“I wish I could, too,” Marjani said, her voice breaking only a little. “I'm going to miss you.”

Jala didn't respond but held Marjani's hand tightly. For the first time, it really hit her that she was leaving Marjani. She'd always thought home was the manor, the island, her family . . . but it was Marjani, too. Maybe it was Marjani most of all.

Could she ever be as close with Azi? Maybe not in the same way, but perhaps just as strongly.
You want too much
, she tried to tell herself. But she wanted it anyway, and she wanted Marjani to stay with her. She wanted to leave for the First Isle, but she wanted to stay, too.

Everything was going to change, and right now, under the stars alone with Marjani, she let herself feel scared.

To Jala's surprise, the next day her mother made no further comment about her absence from the night's entertainment or the sorry state of her hair. She just hugged Jala briefly and said, “It's all right to be nervous. Just don't make it a habit. Now let's get you something to eat.”

Jala's stomach rumbled and she let her mother lead her out to the beach, where breakfast was already waiting for them. After she was finished, Jala sat back and tried to stifle a yawn. She'd been up most of the night, and the food only made her bed seem that much more inviting. “I'm going back to my room to pick out my clothes for tonight,” she said.

Her mother's eyes narrowed. “If you're going to sleep, at least do it sitting up so Marjani can fix your hair.”

Jala smiled innocently. “I'll be down for lunch, I promise.”

She went to her room feeling better than she had in days. She wasn't going to wake Marjani just yet. It seemed like only a moment after she closed her eyes that a knock came at her door.

Jala sat up and pinched herself to wake up quickly, but her eyelids still drooped. “Who's there?”

“We need to talk,” her father said.

Jala tried not to seem too disappointed. She'd been dreaming about Azi, and when the knock on the door came, his face was still in her mind. Well, she hadn't
really
expected Azi to risk more trouble for them by visiting her private rooms.

“Give me five minutes,” she said. There was a bowl of water by her bed, and she splashed her face with it and tried to wash the sand out of her eyes. Then she dressed quickly and opened the door.

Her father smiled at her. “You look more like a queen every day.”

“I'd feel more like one if I could have gotten my sleep,” she complained, but she was smiling too.

“I know you're losing sleep over the wedding and what will happen once you're on the First Isle,” he said with a wink. Then his voice took on a more serious tone. His lecturing voice, Jala thought. “It will get easier, one day, I promise. But not soon. Not for a few years, at least. You have a lot of hard days ahead of you. I've tried to raise you to be strong in case this day came, but even the strongest-looking ship is untested until it's sailed the ocean.”

“Was that supposed to be inspiring? Maybe it's all this sand in my ears, but I don't feel very inspired.”

“It was supposed to be a warning,” her father said. “Up until now, your cousin Akali has been my ambassador to the Kayet. He speaks with my voice at the Sectioning. He knows the other families. They respect him, and that's no easy achievement for a man who turns green as soon as he steps foot aboard a grayship. But now that you're queen you will be expected to speak for us instead.”

“I haven't forgotten,” Jala said. “I've been paying attention.”

“The other families will try to take everything they can from us. From you, really. Not just because they think they can, but to prove to each other and to themselves that you're weak.”

“Then I won't let them.” Did her father think she knew nothing about the world? She'd been at his side for two years watching and listening.

Her father shook his head. “Not letting them isn't enough. We won't even let them try. We'll show them what kind of queen I intend you to be from the very beginning. The kind of queen people fear. The kind of queen people obey.”

“How?” Jala asked, a little afraid to find out, and a little excited as well.

“Only the Rafa are allowed to raid the lands around the city of Two Bones. It's been that way since the first king and queen. There're more riches there than they could ever hope to take. Riches that we deserve. Riches we're finally strong enough to take.” Her father smiled again, but this time his lips were pulled into something almost like a snarl. “You're going to take it from them. And I'm going to tell you how.”

Two days later, the day of the wedding had finally come.

Jala's mother burst into her room well before dawn. “Up, up, up!” she sang as she lit the lamp beside Jala's bed. “So much to do before the wedding. You need to eat as much as you can now, there won't be any time for food later.”

Jala shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted up at her mother. “Are you sure I need to be awake so early? Do you want me to sleep through my own wedding?” She rubbed her eyes.

Her mother clicked her tongue impatiently and pushed Jala's hands away from her face. “Stop that, you'll make your eyes all puffy. Into the bath with you.”

Jala nearly dozed off in the warm water, but too soon her mother was calling her out of the bath and over to a table piled high with food. She focused on eating, blocking out her mother's constant stream of instructions and chatter. Her mother acted as though the whole wedding would fall apart if the flowers were the wrong color or if her cousins wore the wrong jewelry. Who would remember the color of the flowers after it was over? She hoped she'd have much more interesting things to remember.

Marjani was awakened to help Jala and keep her company. Cousins were roused from their beds and sent off on last-minute errands. “You're lucky to be a part of this,” her mother would scold if one of her cousins complained or wondered when the wedding would be over already. “You won't live to see another Bardo queen marry.”

“Your mother might not live to see this one, either,” Marjani whispered. “Someone's going to kill her if she doesn't manage to do herself in first.”

Jala laughed, a loud laugh that had as much to do with her own nerves as anything else. “What do you think Azi's doing right now? Do you think he had to get up this early?”

“Considering how much wine they had on the Kayet ships last night? Probably not that early,” Marjani said. “Lord Inas has gone out of his way to leave all of the planning and preparation to us, your mother says. Though they probably wouldn't do much anyway. Probably why they have the wedding on the queen's island instead of their own.”

“I don't mind,” Jala said. “Well, not too much anyway. I could do with less shouting and more sleeping.” She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the way Marjani had to tug on her hair to secure her braids into the complicated twists her mother had decided would fit best with her dress. She closed her eyes for just a moment. Then a moment more.

Then suddenly Marjani stopped, her hands still holding on to a section of hair. Everything seemed to have gone quiet.

“Just leave it for now,” Jala's mother said from the doorway. “Jala, try this on, in case we need to adjust it.”

Jala opened her eyes. Her mother stood before her with the best dressmakers and seamstresses on the Second Isle, each of them holding a piece of her wedding costume. A headdress of feathers, each one a different color so that it seemed they must have one from every bird on the Five-and-One Islands. For her neck, a necklace of polished bronze. For her ears, small shells hanging on fine silver chains. Around her arms, wooden hoops covered in natural whirls of red and brown.