Naatos had said that the amulet she wore bound husband and wife and family together. What if someone else had hacked into it? What if…what about Salanca, her mother? Supposedly she was dead. But what if…what if some part of her had stuck to her? That only raised more questions. Could her own mother hate her so much that she would torment her?
Amelia slipped under the waters again. The warmth encompassed her, but her thoughts only quickened. When she resurfaced, she heard the brothers in the hall. QueQoa's loud laugh rose above the rest. From the sounds of it, QueQoa had quite literally dragged everyone out of bed. At the sound of Naatos's voice, Amelia froze. Would he come in? There was no way to lock this door.
Treading water, she listened. Her gaze was fixed intently on the door. At least the oil-scented and soap-tinged waters were not clear, so her body was hidden.
But none of the voices drew near the door.
Breathing with relief, Amelia climbed out of the tub and wrapped herself in a thick towel. She shook her head at herself.
This day was not going to get any easier. It was best to push through.
After drying off, Amelia went through the second door to find a smaller dressing chamber. The multi-hued jade gown hung on a simple wooden hanger.
Tears pricked in Amelia's throat. It was beautiful. Jacinda would have loved it. Amelia covered her mouth with her hand. With all of the added embellishments, the gown was a sight to behold. The beading sewn into the neckline and highlighting the bodice was stunning and intricate. Amelia wondered if the tailor and his attendants slept at all. They had even added more to the design.
Amelia dressed with care. A small vanity without a mirror had been provided, and it was covered in bottles of lotion and cosmetics. It did not look as if whoever put it together knew exactly what she needed, and so there was a broad assortment of unmarked cosmetics from small pots of ink and colorful paste to crushed pellets of colorful dyes and brushes.
Amelia did the best she could with it, brushing her hair and putting it into a simple half-up and half-down style. She applied what looked like blush and added a deep red paste to her lips. It was tricky doing this without a mirror, but perfection wasn't required. She paused then, seeing a familiar black vial. Her eyeliner. She felt both saddened and comforted at once.
Picking it up, she turned the eyeliner over in her hand and then applied it. She wasn't sure who had been kind enough to bring it in for her. It didn't particularly matter. How many times had she put this on to remind herself she was a strong woman? A reminder of her femininity. Now she was putting it on to tell herself the same thing but for different reasons.
Satisfied, Amelia stepped back and tested her movements in the gown. The dress moved with her, allowing her a full range of motion without cutting into her ribcage or constricting her breath. If the Machat and the Ayamin attacked as she hoped, she would be able to fight as well as any of them. Not that it had been the main selling point that swayed her when asking for this gown. But in the event of an escape, she would move quite well.
With that done, Amelia smoothed her skirt down and drew in a deep breath. It was time. She'd have to face Naatos sooner or later. She might as well get it over with.
Her nerves tightened, and her fingertips pricked with the uneasiness coursing through her. This was the right thing. It was absolutely the right thing to do. And right now she was committed. She opened the door, the knob cool to her touch.
AaQar stood in the hallway, angled toward QueQoa. "He's already gone to Ecekom, and the guests are arriving. If you wish to join the hunting party, then you should go, QueQoa."
"I am the tel avor. I will not abandon my post." QueQoa folded his arms. "But does he wish to see her before the ceremony or after?"
AaQar opened his mouth to answer but stopped when he saw Amelia. "After," he said. "Definitely after." He returned his gaze to Amelia. "You look lovely."
QueQoa turned. "Quite lovely," he agreed. "The green and black emphasizes the scarring here." He tapped his collarbone.
Amelia covered her throat. A flush of nervous shame heated her.
AaQar cut his eyes at QueQoa. "Awdawm and Neyeb women don't consider scars attractive," he said quietly.
"But they are balanced nicely." QueQoa looked confused. "Look at how they draw out—"
AaQar clapped his hand on QueQoa's shoulder. "QueQoa."
Amelia lifted her hands, her cheeks still burning. "It's fine," she said. "I don't care how I look. Really. Beauty doesn't matter." She pushed the feelings away, reminding herself how unimportant it was in light of everything.
"I will be leaving shortly, QueQoa," AaQar said. "But Khanaan and Lynne as well as Emilio should be arriving soon, and I know you'll want to greet them. Go on ahead." As QueQoa left, AaQar approached Amelia. The heaviness was not so prevalent about him this morning. "I must go and finish my preparations for the ceremony as well," he said, taking both of her hands in his. "But I wanted to tell you how pleased I am that you have joined our family. I wish you and Naatos all the happiness in the world. I do not think you will find we are as far apart in our beliefs as you might have thought."
Amelia nodded. It bothered how they kept acting as if she was no longer a threat. It was as if she had ceased to be the Third Nalenth entirely. Yet she couldn't help but feel concern for AaQar. And she asked the question though it made her feel even weaker. "Are you doing better?"
"I have more hope that all will be well." AaQar smiled, the most sincere smile she had seen from him. "There are a few things you should know. I will be officiating the actual vows as I am Naatos's official attendant. Naatos and his closest friends will be participating in a hunt shortly. I will accompany him on that. WroOth is your attendant; he will remain with you at all times until the ceremony begins. Once you are on Ecekom, I do not recommend you go anywhere alone. It's significantly more dangerous."
"Yes," Amelia said. "I've heard that the camels are quite a problem."
"They are indeed, and they are not alone in it. Hopefully they will cause us no trouble. There should be no problems today." AaQar cupped his hand along her cheek, his smile quite gentle and surprisingly kind. "This is how it is supposed to be, Amelia. You are where you belong. And it will be far better than you hope. Have you read the letter yet?"
"No. But soon."
"Good, but do read it. It will help, I think. You'll see. We aren't so bad as you fear, and I am glad you are in this family. Now. I must go. Wait here for WroOth. He will bring you to Ecekom." He kissed her cheek, his lips cold against her skin. "I will see you soon."
Amelia watched him leave. That hint of pain still wound around him, yet it had lessened. Her cooperation, her agreeing to be here, comforted him. The shadow woman had told her to choose her allies well. And, if it weren't for the universal conquest, Amelia knew that she could have loved all of them. Even Naatos. If he would just back off with the controlling aggression. If they had just met under different circumstances. If he just didn't keep threatening to kill Shon. If…
So many ifs. Amelia wandered back into the common room and sat on the couch. The bits of paper she had been writing on lay on the table. Picking them up, she looked over each of the things she wanted to remember. What would she be like after the Imprinting? Would it happen quickly? Or would she be overwhelmed slowly? Slowly enough to feel it happening and know she was losing who she once was. Maybe these horrid scars and the pain of the split heart would keep her tied to a knowledge of her reality. "I hardly know what to think now," she murmured. "What will I think tomorrow when it's over?"
"I don't think you'll change that much." WroOth stood in the doorway.
"I suppose that makes one of us." Amelia cast one more look over the pages.
WroOth crossed to the couch and peered at the writing scraps. "And what's all this?"
"Nothing." Amelia tucked them into the book.
"Ordinarily I would harass and antagonize you until you confessed, but, as this is your special day, I suppose I should be a little
kinder. Besides, we don't have time." WroOth adjusted his collar. He wore similar garments to what QueQoa had worn except his was black and red with gold trim. "We need to go now."
Time. Amelia followed WroOth out. WroOth closed the door behind them. "Now, a few words about this. This is not really a wedding in that you are not about to be joined with Naatos. You are already married. So this is the presentation of the vows and your presentment as a couple. Don't tell anyone that you are not married now, and do not mention Shon." He gripped her shoulder, turning her to face him. "I cannot emphasize that point enough. You do not mention Shon to anyone."
"I don't think mentioning Shon would be a good idea at any point," Amelia said. Shon's name brought a painful spasm to her heart. Would he understand what she was doing?
"Precisely. Also, whatever you do, keep your left ear exposed. This—" He tugged on the large metal earring fastened over his left ear. "This indicates a Vawtrian's level of skill and masteries. Even though you don't have one, you should keep your ear exposed. Duels and fighting are commonplace for fun. Obviously you are not a Vawtrian, but you don't want some warrior jumping you and realizing too late that you aren't Vawtrian. Hopefully that won't happen, but let's be cautious anyway. If your hair should fall over your ear, you lift it carefully, like this." WroOth demonstrated with his own hair. "Keep the motion slow. Don't do it abruptly. That may look like a challenge."
"All right. I'll just clip it back." Amelia adjusted her hair pins.
"Probably a good idea. Now, let's talk dancing."
"I don't suppose we could skip it," Amelia said. The pressure in her chest tightened.
"Never." WroOth flashed her a bright grin as he walked alongside her. "Vawtrian dancing is fairly different from Awdawm dancing. But here's what you need to know about the two types that will probably happen today with you. Viskaro and belo. The viskaro dances are for married couples, and it can be as complex or as simple as the couple wants. Naatos will fill you in on what sort of dancing he has in mind. Most everyone else who isn't dancing solo, which in fairness is most common, will be in belo dances. These are based off skill and strength. Every dance begins with the couple sparring over who is the strongest. They may reach a tie, or the strongest leads. This is accomplished by breaking the other. Which means taking the other person backwards to the ground."
Amelia frowned. "That's dancing?"
"The first part of it. But don't worry. You can tap out. Which I would recommend you do. You just have to tell the person that you're not a Vawtrian if you don't want to fight. And of course you don't have to dance if you don't want to."
"I doubt Naatos would take a no."
"Well, you are the viskaro. You'll have to look like you at least tolerate him. Though I'd strongly recommend you conjure up a little more enthusiasm. He really isn't that bad."
Amelia fiddled with her Neyeb necklace. Their footsteps echoed as they walked through the Hall of Creation. "Bad or not, he's my husband."
"Ah, there's the spirit. Sounds like the foundation of the best of relationships." WroOth pressed the door open to the Chamber of the Tue-Rah.
Amelia paused, looking back at the tapestries depicting the scenes. "WroOth," she said softly. "Do you know what happened to my mother?"
WroOth grimaced. "Oh, dear heart, is that really appropriate conversation before the biggest celebration of your life? Particularly given what she did to you?"
"Maybe not, but I'm not sure what else to think." Amelia shook her head. "I've had nightmares of a woman mocking me since I was a teen, but she came last night as well. She told me that I was the kindling to light the fire to destroy the skinchangers."
WroOth stiffened at that word. "Well…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Dreams aside, don't ever call a Vawtrian a skinchanger. Skinchangers are Vawtrians who have lost all sentience and become nothing more than beasts. Do you understand? Call a Vawtrian a skinchanger, and you'd best be prepared for the fight of your life or pray that the Vawtrian is reasonably restrained."
It made sense. The woman had been derogatory toward Vawtrians. Amelia nodded though her mouth remained dry and her nerves tight. Somehow vocalizing it made it more frightening. There was more to this than she knew, and she had the distinct impression that WroOth wasn't telling her all he suspected. "Could a Neyeb be talking to me? Could it be—"
"Amelia, to my knowledge, your mother is dead," WroOth said. "And I don't think even she could reach you. The connection between a mother and child is powerful, but you did not grow up with her. You have not been near her for years. I don't think even Salanca was that strong. Perhaps it's simply a nightmare. Now come along, dear heart. It's time you finally saw Ecekom."
48
The “Wedding”
WroOth shuffled her quickly into the Chamber of the Tue-Rah, blindfolded her, as was supposedly tradition, and took her through. When the Tue-Rah's light faded, Amelia was at once aware that she was in a different world.
The air was thicker, more humid and fragrant. Amelia smelled roasting meats, cumin and cinnamon, cayenne pepper and sweet sauce, and many others she could not identify. Music played, a rhythmic style heavy on the drums, maracas, and other percussion instruments. Voices sounded in the distance, but they were muted as if in a separate room. Hers and WroOth's footsteps echoed in the chamber.
"I'm still not convinced you really have to blindfold me," Amelia said darkly. "Are there more dead bodies you don't want me to see?"
"Don't worry, dear heart. You won't trip on anything." WroOth's grip remained firm on her arm as he pulled her along.
"Your failure to answer my question is troubling."
Anticipation rose in Amelia along with the nerves and dread. She was now on yet another world. Ecekom, the home world of the Vawtrians, Shivennans, and once the Unatos. Supposedly the largest of all the worlds, or at the very least the Central Three. The most ancient and wild. She barely knew what to expect.
WroOth guided her around a few bends and turns. The sounds and scents intensified. The heat of the humidity struck her face as a door opened. Then it faded, cut off with the closing of another door. WroOth snapped the blindfold off with a flourish. "And here we are."
They stood in a sleek-walled silver room with a few benches and a one-way window looking out over the courtyard, which teemed with Vawtrians. It was hard to even know where to look. If there were couples dancing, Amelia couldn't tell.
It was like a massive club with everyone dancing his own routine. The Vawtrians didn't remain in their states of rest. In between turns and twists, drops and spins, they shifted into different forms. There were dragons, spiders, phoenixes, pegasi, serpents, giraffes, gazelles, panthers, centipedes, lions, wolves, ibexes, wyrms, wraiths, gryphons, and hundreds of others. But most did not remain in any one form for more than a four count before shifting into another shape. The shifting processes staggered and flowed throughout the open dance floor like an ever-changing mosaic of scales, fur, fire, and claws.
Sometimes they struck one another, claws and tails slashing out, but the other dancers never seemed to mind. They just healed and carried on with the dancing. The flight-based Vawtrians often leaped into the air, spiraling up with wings spread and smoke trailing before they dove back to the dance floor. Every so often, a mer or a shark or an octopus appeared. Amelia looked harder at the courtyard floor. She couldn't focus on it long enough to be sure, but it seemed like there were deep trenches of water cut directly into the marble flooring.
"That's dancing?" Amelia asked at last.
"Not any dancing you'll be doing," WroOth said. "Non Vawtrians never go to the center of the floor. Not unless they have a death wish or are exceptional. Like Igrold."
Amelia couldn't pull her gaze from the courtyard. "Are there any non Vawtrians here?"
WroOth strode alongside her, pausing and clasping his hands behind his back. "Some of the viskaros and viskares are Awdawm, Shivennan, and Tiablos. But you won't see them out there. After the ceremony, there will be a fea
st, and then there will be more dancing. Non Vawtrians typically dance with their viskaros over there." He pointed over the mass. "It's set aside from the rest so that there's less risk."
"So all the Vawtrians go off to play with each other and the non Vawtrians thank Elonumato they aren't caught in a life or death move on the dance floor," Amelia said. A phoenix lunged into the air, completing a spiraling twist that intersected with a wyvern's triple spin. It was terrifying and breathtaking at once.
"For a time perhaps." WroOth offered her his hand. "Would you care to dance, little sister? You can try to break me if you like."
Amelia cut her eyes at him. "Yeah…"
"I promise. I won't make it too difficult." WroOth grinned, his eyes twinkling.
"Well, if you aren't going to try, then don't even pretend." Amelia forced a laugh, but nausea flooded her stomach.
It was actually happening. This was real. Deep down, she knew the Ayamin and Machat would not come. All hopes of rescue and escape had been fleeting at best, and now they evaporated. There was no way that they could mount an attack on this place. There were hundreds of Vawtrians, possibly thousands. She knew better than to hope that anything would stop this. It was happening, and the only way out was through. Her breaths came faster. Dizziness swept through her.
"Amelia…" WroOth placed his hand on her arm. "Amelia, are you all right?"
"I'm fine." But she wasn't. Amelia leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. She was scared. Terrified. This is happening. All of the emotion she'd tried to put away swelled within her now.
"Come on. Sit down." WroOth guided her to the bench. He sat beside her, holding her hands. "This probably feels rather strange, but I promise everything is going to be fine."
"No." Amelia struggled to swallow. More tears burned her eyes. "No, it won't be."
"Listen to me." WroOth took both her hands in his. He gave a small smile. "Naatos isn't going to hurt you, all right? If he does, all you have to do is tell me, and I will deal with him. AaQar feels the same, and QueQoa as well. If there is anything you need, you only have to ask. Aside from the Tue-Rahs and such. But Naatos doesn't want to hurt you."
Enemy Known Page 46
