CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T AMAR

The world was made new, but it wasn’t exactly the world I had imagined.

When Lauria, Alibek, Zivar, and I arrived on the steppe, we were the first of a flood of refugees—former slaves who’d heard of the river’s return and had simply walked away and headed for the Alashi. The river did not free all the slaves. The slaves who made it to the steppe brought stories of slaves brought back and beaten or killed. Other slaves were too sick, old, or beaten down to run away.

But the Greeks had more urgent problems than the loss of their slaves. The army and the Weavers turned on each other, scrambling for control of the remaining spell-chains. Rumors traveled slowly now that hardly anyone could get to the borderland, but the refugees brought plenty: riots over food, assassinations of sorceresses to get their spell-chains, an uprising of slaves in one city that left every soldier dead.

With a great deal of effort, I could still find my way to the borderland at night. Lauria could not, and neither could Zhanna or Jaran. I did meet another shaman who could—one of the old men. We seemed to have found other gates to reach it. I wondered sometimes if I used the one in Lauria’s heart.

 

Zivar was sent out to a sword sisterhood for the rest of the summer. The world shook around us, but the eldress was bent on doing things the way she always had. Lauria was still weak from her time as a prisoner of the Greeks, so she stayed with one of the clans. I wanted to stay with Lauria, and Alibek wanted to stay with me.

They set up a yurt for the three of us.

It was less awkward than I’d feared. Alibek and Lauria got along very well when they didn’t think too much about the past. Lauria was sad and distracted, grieving for her mother and thinking about the destruction she’d brought. Alibek treated both of us like sisters.

The clan was busy getting ready for winter and dealing with all the new arrivals. Our yurt had space for more people, but the elder of the clan didn’t trust us not to give the blossoms tips on passing the tests, so he didn’t put anyone in with us. The elder knew that we had freed the river, but he didn’t tell anyone else, so neither did we.

Despite the war and the flood, it was a very peaceful couple of weeks.

Having Alibek treat me like a sister was a relief at first. Thinking about the kiss we’d shared still made me blush. But as the days passed, I began to think again about how nice it would be not to feel terrified. Late at night, in the dark of the yurt, I ran my palms over my skin and imagined someone else’s hands touching me. Back in the harem, Meruert and Aislan sometimes felt pleasure. I had wondered if part of me was broken and that was why I always hated it. I decided in those nights that I was not broken. At least not anymore.

But did I want to share Alibek’s company? That evening in Penelopeia, it had seemed so reasonable. We were both former concubines. We were comfortable together because of all we’d been through. But now that I was back with a clan, surrounded by families, I remembered that Alashi couples were supposed to marry if they were going to have a child together. They were supposed to stay together at least until the child was old enough to go off and join a sisterhood or brotherhood. I knew ways to avoid pregnancy, but they weren’t foolproof. Did I like Alibek enough to have a family with him? Of course, right now I was living with him, and it wasn’t too bad. He was even courteous to Lauria. That was a good sign.

A week before we were to ride out for the fall gathering, Lauria invited me to go riding with her. We borrowed horses, packed food and water, and headed out in the early morning. We rode for an hour or two, then stopped to rest. I saw a rockslide and Lauria picked up a piece of karenite. “They say merchants still buy it,” she said.

“For how much longer?”

“Who knows?”

“What do you think the Alashi will do once everyone realizes it’s not valuable anymore?”

Lauria looked up at the sky. “I think we’ll see a lot more overland merchant caravans, like the one the sisterhood met last summer. Even if no one wants karenite, people will still want silk and the other stuff you can buy beyond the edge of the Empire.”

“Are you thinking the Alashi will turn to banditry?”

“No, I’m thinking they could offer to guard the caravans from bandits, for a fee, and sell them water and other supplies that they’ll need as they pass.”

“I suppose.”

“Anyway, that’s not why I dragged you out here. I wanted to talk.” She swatted a bug. “Do you and Alibek need me to move out?”

“What?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at each other. But you never touch. I was just wondering if maybe you needed some privacy.”

I blinked. “I—uh—you don’t have to move out.”

“Are you sure? Because if that’s not it, what’s the problem?”

“It just seems so complicated,” I said, finally.

“Life is short,” Lauria said. “Don’t waste too much time thinking about how complicated things are.”

I looked up at Lauria. Alibek had thought I might desire Lauria, and I wondered suddenly if she desired me. But I saw no hint of that in her face. “You’re a good sister,” I said. “Did you ever want to be, you know—” My voice failed me.

Lauria took my hand and looked into my eyes. “Where I came from, blood sisterhood didn’t mean that you were sisters in a way that would make it wrong to desire each other. But when we first met, you seemed very young to me. While I was in Penelopeia, I longed to be with you, but what I wanted was your company. If we had taken a different path together, maybe…but I can tell that you love Alibek. And you know, between us, we could really use a larger family, don’t you agree? Some kin-by-marriage for each of us.”

I felt a sudden relief, though I hadn’t thought I was worried.

“You love Alibek. I don’t know what’s holding you back, but—try not to let it chain you any longer.”

When we returned to the camp, I sought Alibek out. He was whittling a whistle for one of the children, and I waited until he had finished before I spoke.

“I’m ready,” I said.