Page 19 of Of Songs and Silence

“As though I could forget.” Ari’s tone is dark, and he raises a hand to cut off whatever other objection his cousin was about to make. “Just go. And for sea’s sake, send back some marlin.”

Kane sighs, giving me one last suspicious sideways glance. “Aye aye, Commander.”

He gives Ari what appears to be a slightly mocking salute before turning to go.

I stuff down my questions, knowing the likelihood of getting them answered and frankly, too tired to get into any of it tonight. Tired, and a bit defeated, seeing firsthand that the world I’ve been thrust into is every bit as violent as the one I hailed from.

Sands,if this is where my mother came from, perhaps that’s why she is the way that she is. Perhaps she’s one of the kinder Mayima. That’s a terrifying thought, but looking at the man who occupies far too much space in this small inn room, I also know it isn’t true.

Ari is examining me in turn, inspecting the half-formed creation in my hands.

Or is it Ariihau? Commander Ariihau?

“Commander or Commander Ariihau if there are others around, but…if you slip up, it shouldn’t be an issue. They will know you spent this time with Kane.”

They? The king and the rest of the court? The other warriors?

I find I’m too drained to ask, so I nod mutely, continuing to work with my fingers moving on reflex.

How many times have I woven a memorial?Too many to count.

It was one tiny way to remember those slain by Mother’s hand or by her orders, a way to show that they existed, and that they mattered. One small rebellious act on my part.

Perhaps they had lovers or families to mourn their presence. Someone to miss them and hope for a return that would never come. Maybe, some never had either. And that was all the more reason to create a memorial to show that they weren’t wiped away completely.

“What is that?” Ari asks.

“A memorial,” I answer him. “For the boy.”

He stills in the middle of the room, his arms uncrossing, as he studies me. I don’t look up, though. Instead I focus on finishing this project.

“Not your first one,” he surmises.

It’s not quite a question, but I answer anyway. “No.”

Something shifts between us and I wonder if he is starting to put it together—the life I grew up with. I retreat into my mind, silently accepting another piece of seaweed from Napo to add to the increasingly complicated flower I am creating.

In just a few days, Ari will bring me to the king. I should be wondering more about that, about why the king is looking for me and what he’ll do when he has me.

Instead, everything seems to come back to Ari.

Why did I see his face every night for weeks? Why does the world feel quieter when he’s around?

They’re questions I suspect he knows the answer to, since every time I catch his gaze it’s already on me. I take stock of my mental shields again, making sure they’re firmly in place and that he can’t hear my thoughts.

A small twitch of his lips tells me he notices, but he doesn’t say anything. Silently, he disappears into a small room off to the side, one I can only assume is a bathing chamber.

When I finish with the memorial, I hang it in the window, unsure what to do with it. Only then do I fully realize the situation as it stands. I’m exhausted, and ready for sleep. After the day we’ve had, I’m sure Ari is, too.

But there is only one bed.

CHAPTERELEVEN

MELODI

Ari returns from the lavatory, his skin smooth and clean. I want to freshen up before bed too, but I’m not even sure where to begin.

He nods, and gestures toward the small room. Of course, my thought was louder than I meant it to be. It’s even harder to moderate them when I’m this tired.

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