Under the Willow Root

Chapter 57

Later that night, I approach Ismeni and find that Luca was right. She's almost friendly. She even asks me about my exercises and listens when I explain how it helps clear and strengthen my mind. I don't mention the Pall, though. I don't want to push my luck. But still, I'm encouraged. I haven't seen Ismeni behave with this much civility since...well, since I was her thrall.

So when Ismeni asks me the next morning to accompany her for a walk, I agree right away. Her opinion of me matters more than I like to admit, and the possibility that she may have come to believe me--and accept me--makes my stomach flutter with hopeful nerves.

"I want you to know that I forgive you," Ismeni says after we've been walking for some time. "I bear you no ill will. I don't know what happened to your own body. It must be something terrible if you'd go to so much trouble to keep Blue's. But the simple fact remains that it's not yours, and you have to give it back."

"Give it back," I say incredulously. "To who? To you? You don't own me, or this body."

"To the House of Light and Shadow, of course," Ismeni says. "I told you that my husband's sister has high standing. She has arranged for me to be pardoned and you to be expelled from that body and punished. You've made my Blue into something foul and unclean, and you will pay dearly for it."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. How can she still cling to such a flimsy explanation? I remember something Sadra said so long ago. "You just don't want to believe that you've done something bad. Every time you hurt Blue, you were hurting a person. You were hurting me. You caged and enslaved and degraded me."

"Stop it," Ismeni cries. "Stop this nonsense. I've had enough of your lies."

Ismeni raises her arms and closes her eyes. Her sleeves fall back, revealing the strange marks on her arms that I saw before. There are more of them now--and they're glowing. I back away, my heart pounding. I yell for Luca and turn to run.

Before I can take more than a few steps, Ismeni throws herself at my back. I hit the ground hard. The impact knocks the breath out of me. I lie there for several seconds, trying to refill my lungs, then push myself to my feet and try again to run.

"None of that," a horribly familiar voice says in my ear.

"You," I croak, trying to jerk away. It's not Ismeni but Cimari whose fingers are digging into my arm. I look wildly around, looking for Ismeni, but she's nowhere to be seen. "Get away from me."

"No," Cimari says simply. Her eyes glint like hard, cold jewels. "I don't know how you deceived me, but you will not escape again."

"Please," I whimper. I dig my heels in and try to pry her fingers off my arm. "Why are you doing this? I'm real, I'm a person--"

"Oh, I know that," Cimari informs me. My mouth drops open in shock, and I stop struggling. Cimari continues, looking me in the eye. "You think I'm the villain, and, to you, I suppose I am. But I am a faithful servant of my people, and of the House. Ismeni tells me you escaped to the Temple. You enjoyed your time there, did you not? You spent your days dancing and playing with the children and lounging in the baths. You marveled at the City's wonders and sang hymns in the streets on the high holy days."

"So?" I ask warily.

"So," she says, her hand tightening on my arm, "the City owes its prosperity to the presence of thralls. Without thralls, everything that makes the City great--all its beauty, its learning, its might--would crumble. We sacrifice a few for the good of many. You should understand--I have it on good authority that you do the same in your own world."