The Unfinished Song: Sacrifice

by Maya, Tara

  “It isn’t an animal at all, is it? That’s just a figure of speech.”

  “It’s something you already have, Dindi. It’s something you should not give up easily, because you can only give it away once, and then it is gone. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Something dark sparked in his eyes. “Perhaps you should not. I’ve had to make this sacrifice too, Dindi. Or I thought I had. After what happened in Sharkshead, I’ve realized I’ve held back too. I haven’t been willing to…. To do some necessary things. That has to change. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I don’t want to take more from you than you are wiling to give.”

  “I trust you,” she said.

  Gwenika

  Gwenika clutched a bead in her sweaty fist. It wouldn’t do her a bit of good—Gwena had already explained one couldn’t cast a token for oneself—but at least her sister had wrangled an invitation to the secret meeting where the most popular youths in the cohort would determine the fate of the least popular. If Gwenika’s life was about to be destroyed, she would not be taken by surprise.

  Kemla was the leader of those “in the know.” This elite clique, no more than a dozen or so, consisted of the most popular and powerful Initiates, the ones the others in the cohort all looked to for approval, the ones even the teachers chose to be leaders. They called themselves the Council. Gwenika was not on the Council, but her sister Gwena was, so Gwenika was allowed to listen in, along with another two dozen or so other hangers-on, as Kemla spoke to the Council about the Duck Hunt. They gathered on a grassy knoll, within hearing distance of the river. Everyone at this secret meeting, even the hangers-on, would be allowed to participate in the Choosing of the Duck.

  Kemla of Full Basket was beautiful and she knew it. She danced Red; and even when she was not in her Tavaedi costume, she always wore something red and flashy somewhere over her white Initiate’s sheath. Today she wore a fox tail, dangling from the center of her belt. Her long, shiny hair fell in twists down her back, ending in spiky bronze beads that snapped and clicked when she moved. She had a way of swinging her head, in seeming innocence, and smacking other girls with the beads, which could hit with enough force to draw blood. She always apologized and then laughed at how clumsy she was, making it impossible for her victim to be angry with her without looking like a fool. But Gwenika was certain Kemla had never moved a pinkie, never mind bumped someone, without doing it deliberately.

  “Here’s how it works,” Kemla said. “There are five jars, one for each of the worthless worms that we would all be better off without. But which of those worms is the most disgusting and loathsome of all, which will be Duck? We will find out who that person is the same way we’d find out who to make Vaedi, or War Chief. Each of us has a colored bead, and we’ll have a chance to put those stones in the jar.

  “There is just one twist.“ Kemla smiled cruelly. “Instead of putting your bead in the jar of the person you want to be the Duck, you put your bead in the jar of the person you don’t want to be the Duck. If you think one of these worms is not a worm at all, but a real person, this is your chance to tell us. Put your bead in the jar. The jar with the fewest beads will be the Duck. If more than one jar has no beads at all, then we will have more than one Duck. If all five are empty, we’ll have five Ducks!”

  She paced in front of them, acting like she was already a Zavaedi. Her fox tail swished as she moved languorously. Tamio, the most gorgeous warrior on the Council, was transfixed by Kemla’s swaying hips. Gwenika wondered why girls like Kemla never got named as candidates to be the Duck. She wondered why boys like Tamio never ogled girls like Gwenika that way. There was no justice.

  “Oh and one final thing,” Kemla said. “Be careful whose company you decide to keep. Some Ducks are born. Others catch Duckhood like a contagious disease. We will all be watching who puts their beads in which jar. If none of the jars is completely empty, anyone who put beads in the jar with the least beads will be a Duck too.”

  Gwenika felt ice-cold sweat sluice down the small of her back. She glanced at Gwena. What if her sister, in trying to protect her, only succeeded in becoming a Duck too?

  Kemla began to call out the names of the doomed, jar by jar. The first three were Yellow Bear youths, whom Gwenika had seen around but really knew only through rumor. To be “helpful,” Kemla elaborated on the faults of each candidate. One boy had an ugly goiter and a lisp. Another boy always spoke slowly and had messed up one of the hunts because he was so clumsy and stupid. A girl was favored by a certain male teacher, but only because she slept with him, at least according to Kemla. Yet each of these people had their defenders. Kin of the boy with the goiter agreed he was foul but they did not want their clan name dishonored by allowing one of their own to be the Duck. There were no kinfolk of the clumsy boy present, but some Council members also put their beads in his jar, for the calculated and pragmatic reason that he came from an influential clan that they were trying to ingratiate themselves with. It was also agreed that if the slutty girl was protected by a Zavaedi, it would be dangerous to make her the Duck.

  Gwenika hated the whole business. At the same time, horribly, she also hoped that the others would have as few defenders as possible. Because the fewer beads in their jars, the better her own chances for escaping doom. She hated herself for her selfishness, but she couldn’t help it.

  Then came the dreaded moment.

  Kemla said, “Gwenika of Sycamore Stand. She’s always whining about how sick she is, she’s a big baby—”

  Don’t cry, don’t cry, Gwenika shouted inside at herself. You’ll just prove them right and they will make you the Duck for sure! But tears pricked her eyes, as Kemla recited Gwenika’s shortcomings in a mean, mocking voice:

  “…she’s clumsy, she’s stupid, she’s ugly, she’s…”

  Gwena stood up, with her arms crossed. “She’s what, Kemla? Could you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you. Could you please repeat what you said about my baby sister.”

  Kemla flushed and broke off.

  “Yeah, Kemla, I think you must have been confused with someone else,” Tamio added unexpectedly. He stood up too. “Little Gwenika is sweet and brave. She single-handedly rescued the Imorvae who were being oppressed by our enemies. I’m Imorvae myself. So are you. Anyone who sticks up for our kind, even though she’s Morvae herself, is good stuff. She should never have been named in the first place!”

  The Initiates burst into applause. Tamio tossed his bead into Gwenika’s jar. Gwena too. Then all in a rush, all the Initiates at the secret meeting pushed forward to drop their beads in her jar.

  “Gwenika! Gwenika! Gwenika!” they cheered.

  “That’s exactly what I was going to say before you interrupted me,” Kemla said. She dropped her bead into the jar with an elaborate flourish. “Everyone here is Gwenika’s friend! Who wouldn’t be? She went to Sharkshead and back and she is our hero!”

  “Gwenika! Gwenika! Gwenika!”

  They lifted her up in the air and cheered some more; girls hugged her and kissed her cheeks; boys clapped her on the back; they all began to talk at once about how brave and smart and pretty and wonderful she was.

  She couldn’t believe it. And, just like a baby, she ruined it all by bursting into tears. She wept from happiness, she supposed, or possibly just out of pure shock. But they didn’t care. They all still wanted to be her friend.

  Her day was perfect at that moment.

  Then the bubble burst, and Kemla and Gwena and Tamio and the other members of the Council reminded each other that they still had their duty before them, they still had to pick a Duck.

  There was one jar left.

  Gwenika still felt sorry for the last person whose jar that was, but not quite as sorry as before. After all, now that her stomach had stopped clenching and she could think clearly, she was able to see that maybe the candidates did bring it on themselves. The other Initiates were right. She had been a big cry baby. Even if she hadn’t been
imagining her illnesses, she knew now that she had been the one making herself sick with her own magic. That was worse. What a useless worm she’d been.

  But she’d changed all that. She’d stopped making herself sick. She’d stopped complaining so much. She had focused on helping other people. She had done something brave. It hadn’t been easy for her, it had terrified her at the time, but she had done it. She wasn’t a worm anymore. Those other worms could have done the same if they had really wanted to, but they hadn’t worked as hard as she had to change. Maybe Gwena was right, the kids who became Ducks were lazy and dragging the rest of the cohort down.

  “The last jar,” said Kemla. “We come to a person who never spends time with any of us. She never sits with the maidens, as if she thought she were a Tavaedi and too good for them. But she’s not even close to being a Tavaedi . Her clan is a joke, you can take that from me, because they belong to the same clanklatch as mine. No one from that clan has ever been worth a kernel of corn, and she is the worst waste of corn of them all. Plus, she’s just weird.

  “Dindi of Lost Swan clan. Swan? More like…Dindi the Lost Duck! Do I need to say more or have we found our Duck?”

  “Quack! Quack! Quack!”

  The people around Gwenika, the girls who had just hugged and kissed her, the boys who had clapped her on the back and lifted her up on their shoulders, now pulled out stubby wooden whistles and honked on them like ducks.

  “Anyone have beads for this jar?” Kemla asked, holding up the empty jar. “Anyone at all?”

  Stand up, Gwenika commanded her legs. Stand up! Walk over there and defend your friend.

  Gwena looked at her and seemed to know what she was thinking. Gwena gave a slight shake of her head No.

  She’s my friend, Gwenika pleaded silently.

  And I’m your sister! Gwena shot back in their wordless conversation of significant looks. Are you going to throw away everything I did for you?

  But…but…

  “Why do you think they put her jar last?” Gwena hissed. In other words: She was marked from the start. There’s nothing you can do except go down with her…and take me down too. Is that what you want?

  Gwenika sat there, rooted to her spot on the grass, painfully aware of what she was not doing.

  Tamio stood up, and her hope leaped. Maybe he would rescue her friend from ignominy as he had rescued her. If Gwenika threw a bead in Dindi’s jar, Gwenika would just end up sharing her friend’s fate, but if Tamio did, everyone would follow his lead.

  “Guess what, my friends?” Tamio lifted the jar upside down over his head to show nothing falling out. “WE HAVE AN EMPTY JAR!”

  “QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!” they all shouted.

  Dindi

  Everyone seemed to be acting weird tonight. Clumps of Initiates who would normally have ignored Dindi swerved their heads to watch her pass by, then turned to one another to whisper and giggle. She checked her clothing and felt her hair to see if she had been stained with bird droppings or something.

  Every evening, after the sentries in the look-out bomas sounded curfew on conch shells. Young men and women and their teachers streamed back to the palisade on top of the Tor of the Initiates before the final call, when warriors blocked the opening in the stockade with a barrier of thorny branches and planks lashed tightly together. The youths crowded around the fence to the outdoor kitchen where maidens, also Initiates, labored over six tall, clay ovens to produce a steady torrent of pishas. On a good day, the flat corn bread wrappings would contain vegetables and meat, on a bad day, sprouts and tubers. Cheese and milk were seldom served in Yellow Bear, because their tribe did not keep many goats or aurochsen, except what they had acquired in trade with clanholds in the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe. Trade animals were held in kraals for a few weeks at a time, until a feast day arrived or a sacrifice to appease angry fae was needed.

  Dindi never tried to shove her way to the front of the crowd, she always waited her turn patiently, but today her turn never seemed to come. Other Initiates deliberately pushed her out of the way to get ahead of her, and when she finally protested, “Hey!” a boy shoved her again, asking, “You want to make something of it?”

  Everyone around them sucked in an eager breath and their eyes glowed like night animals.

  Dindi shook her head. Her heart had started racing and she did not know why. There was nothing to be afraid of, she was just trying to get dinner.

  Right?

  She was the last to finally reach the ovens. Even the serving maidens for the evening had already served themselves and left. The bread flats and bowls of fillings were still on the ledge in front of the oven, so she rolled her own pisha with whatever scraps were left. No meat, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t that hungry anyway.

  That evening the Initiates ate dinner around the hearths in their lodges, which was normal. Since she had been last to take her food, she was last to enter her lodge. Heads turned, girls bent together to snicker. She tried to push away the paranoia that they were all whispering about her. Why would they be? If they had discovered she had been breaking the taboo of dancing, or that she owned a hexed object of power that she could not figure out how to destroy, they would have dragged her before the Zavaedies to be punished, possibly even executed. They would do more than just stare and snigger. If they had not discovered she had broken taboos, why would they pay attention to her at all?

  Dindi sat by herself, against the wall instead of close to a hearth fire, because Gwenika was still hiding their friendship from her mother. Before Dindi had left for the journey to Blue Waters, her cousin Jensi had dined with her, but these days Jensi preferred to sit with new friends she had made in Yellow Bear. It was lonely, but since Dindi had been so preoccupied with her problems, it seemed easier in some ways. So what if she felt hollow inside sometimes, at least she did not have to excuse herself to anyone.

  Right.

  She missed the days when she had been traveling with Kavio and Gwenika and the peace party. Then she had felt part of something important, even if she was not important herself.

  After dinner, the Initiates left the lodge to bathe by the cistern behind the lodges, visit the piss pits as necessary, and then sit on mats in the courtyard, gossiping by firelight until bedtime. Dindi was the last to finish her meal, and by the time she had washed and come to the courtyard, all the other girls were sitting together with their friends. She stood in the shadows, watching them braid each other’s hair.

  Someone hissed at her. She was so coiled up that she jumped, but it was just her cousin, Hadi.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asked. “Back here, out of the firelight.”

  He usually wanted to avoid her, not seek her out, so this was strange. She followed him deeper into the shadows.

  “Dindi, you traveled with Kavio,” Hadi blurted.

  “Yes.”

  “He never…uhm…tried anything, did he?”

  “He tried to make peace, but Nargano was too stubborn and cruel.”

  “No, I mean…” Hadi flamed red. “…tried anything with you? Touched you?”

  Not unless you counted the way they had danced together, bodies pressed closely together. Kavio’s hands caressing her back, lifting her by her thighs…

  “No,” she said.

  Hadi looked relieved. “Well, stay away from him. I heard a rumor about him.” He leaned close and whispered, “Tamio said that Kavio performs a ritual sacrifice every year to give himself power. On a new moon, he kidnaps a virgin and violates her. That’s the secret of how he became the strongest warrior dancer in Faearth. It’s said that he was caught finally and exiled from his birth tribe. He’s a beast!”

  “Kavio is not a beast.”

  “Don’t be naïve, Dindi.” Hadi looked unhappy. “You would be surprised the kinds of things that boys say about girls. Especially girls like you.”

  “Girls like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You don’t make it easy for me, you know,” he said resentfu
lly. “I want to protect you, but the other warriors don’t take me seriously, just because… fa, I’m not smooth with girls, the way some of them are. You have no idea what my life is like, Dindi. They are constantly ribbing me, saying maybe I can’t make it with a girl because I’m Olani or something… I’m so sick of it. Since I took down that elk, it hasn’t been so bad, but then Yodigo told me there was a secret meeting and Tamio didn’t invite me and I have to wonder if my name was on the hand.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I know!” he yelled. He glanced around quickly, and lowered his voice, but his words were still fast and angry. “That’s the problem. Where do you go all the time, Dindi? How come you never spend any time with Jensi, or me, or anyone else? People don’t like it when you keep away from them. They say you think you’re better than everyone, just because you were in the party that went to Sharkshead. You need to change your behavior. You need to make time for the people who count, the other Initiates in your cohort. These are the people who will be in our age grade for the rest of our lives! The friendships we make here will grow into political alliances as we get older. Marriage. War. Trade. Everything starts here, Dindi! You need to take this seriously!”

  “What do you want me to do?” She felt helpless.

  “Well.” Hadi looked abashed. “Could you introduce me to Gwenika? I know a beautiful and famous Tavaedi is probably not interested in a bloke like me, but maybe if I told her about how I killed the elk, she’d be impressed. I cut out its heart myself!”

  “Gwenika really doesn’t like to hear about animals being killed.”

  His face fell. “Oh. But I haven’t been in a battle yet, so I haven’t killed any men.” He brightened. “Maybe when the war comes!”

  “I fear I shouldn’t be the one to introduce you to her anyway,” Dindi said. “Her mother kinda hates me. I’m not supposed to see Gwenika. You’d have a better chance without me.”