Page 6 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
But then, life never had been. Why should that change now?
Forcing a smile onto his face, Therat held his hand out. Adon’s tattooed fingers interlaced with his as they took off walking to the Market.
“I am happy for you. I’m sorry if I don’t show it,” Therat said after they could no longer see their house. “I see so much of Da and Mama in you and Ninann. I see the way she looks at you, and her smile reminds me of the way Mama looked at us when we all came home, dripping in mud, Da grinning from ear to ear. I know how you love her, and I hope nothing ever comes between that. I just… I just don’t know if I can be a part of that life. It hurts too much.”
Adon stopped walking. He pulled Therat into a hug. Though twins, Therat’s muscular frame enveloped Adon. He was unused to being the one comforted and protected. That was his role, his sacrifice in life. He took the tainted Shadow-weave into his heart, and now he would do everything he could to protect Adon from the same fate.
After a minute, Adon pulled away. A sad smile stretched across his warm brown skin.
“I wish you did not feel so broken,maí soerl. I love you fiercely, and I will do anything I can to help you find the light again.” Adon reached out and touched Therat over the heart; he flinched on reflex, reminded of the scar he tried so hard toforget. “This night… this torment, and grief, and guilt. I will never let you feel this way again, Therat. You hide your pain so well, like a wounded cat. Please let me help you.”
Therat tried to find his words, but they did not come. He leaned his forehead against his brother’s, letting the warmth of Adon’s skin radiate through his face.
With a heavy sigh, Therat placed a gentle kiss on Adon’s cheek, then took his hand again and kept walking to the Market.
four
A City with People
Apattar had taken onlya few steps outside the clay wall of her family estate when she looked down. A string of curses flew from her mouth. Saiya whipped around, concern painting her face.
“What is it, my lady? Are you hurt?” The genuine concern in her voice surprised Apattar. No one besides her beloved sister Ninann showed they cared about Apattar’s well-being.
“No, look, myhands!I’m an idiot, I’ll never pass for anyone else!”
Apattar waved them in front of Saiya’s face, the bright blue doves surrounded by stylized suns on the back of her hands impossible to miss. Telltale markings of her caste and House, rarely seen beyond the Wall. Every ounce of excitement vanished, replaced with the encroaching blanket of dread and nothingness emptying the woman a little more each day. How childish to think escape would be so easy.
“Oh!” Saiya’s raspy voice kept Apattar’s thoughts from running wild. “Wait! I forgot I brought these for you. Here.” Saiya stuffed a hand in the pack slung off one shoulder, digging around before emerging with something black in her grasp.
Apattar unfolded the long, black half-gloves; a small loop in the center hooked over one finger. Hot, most likely, in the sweltering summer heat, but inconspicuous enough given their popularity among the Weavers.
“You are marvelous!” Apattar exclaimed, pulling the gloves on as quickly as she could. She looked down at herself, now no more remarkable than one of millions.
The fabric ran up the length of her arm past her elbow, fitting snugly across the doughy flesh of her upper arms. She found the pants comfortable despite the fabric; the air trapped between skin and cloth was cool in the heat. Reaching up to her braids piled high on her head and kept in place with a simple wooden hair stick, Apattar wondered how strange she looked. No makeup, no elaborate hair, and certainly no fine silk clothes. All the things she used as armor to survive the day.
Maybe she could find happiness in simplicity. The thought thrilled Apattar. No one came for her during the days, so who would look for someone they did not think missing? They hadn’t even left the Towers District, yet already Apattar wanted to plan another escape.
Saiya said something in reply. The wind carried it away. When Apattar looked up again, her handmaiden already bounded across a sandy path cutting between a stand of thin palm trees. Apattar took a step forward to follow, then stopped.
For the first time in her life, Apattar felt hot sand beneath her feet. The realization overwhelmed her.
How many thousands of things had passed her by in life while she decayed between four marble walls?
Knowing something and experiencing it are two different things. Her books may have taught her a hundred ways to manipulate the harmonic music that wove all life, or how to navigate by the stars, but they never told her how blissful the feeling of sun-hot sand under bare feet felt.
Apattar stood for a moment, digging her toes into the earth before slowly walking toward Saiya, who stood waiting in the shade. A giggle rose in her throat with each bounding step off the sand so hot it almost burned, a prickling heat spreading up her legs. It neared unbearable, but the line between pain and pleasure had blurred long ago.
I’ve never felt so alive!
Once by Saiya’s side, the two women left the warm sands for the familiar wide path of white cobblestone snaking through the Towers District. The Blessed Path. The only place the Named Houses would step foot outside their homes, clinging to a relic from long-lost ages. As the sand on the bottoms of their feet wore off on the stones, Apattar smiled. The thought of defiling her father’s sacred path brought her immense joy. An uncontrollable boom of laughter thundered forth as her smile widened, sides rolling and jiggling with the effort.
Laughter!
Not a bitter, sarcastic sound, but her genuine laugh. Apattar almost forgot what it sounded like. Loud and braying, erupting like a geyser from her heart.
“What is so amusing, my lady?”
Saiya couldn’t help but laugh a little as she spoke, Apattar’s sudden joy an infectious thing. It took a moment for her to reply, sucking in deep breaths between the lessening waves of giddiness.
