I gathered my thoughts and cleared my throat, and everyone looked up. “I want to start by reminding you what happened the night Anid was born.
“It was, from what I understand, a normal rebirthing. Lots of people were present, hoping a friend would be reincarnated. But when the Soul Tellers announced Anid was new, everything changed. Some of you were there. You remember how people yelled, threatened him, even though he hadn’t done anything except be born.”
People nodded, and Lidea held Anid to her chest as though she relived those minutes, not knowing whether the crowd would hurt her child. Her eyes shone with tears, and Wend sat stiffly next to her, his expression hard.
“The fact is, more newsouls are going to be born, and there shouldn’t be a need to guard the birthing room. I know people are afraid of what this means, or angry that some souls aren’t coming back. Those both are perfectly reasonable reactions, but—”
I stopped myself before getting into the same discussion Sam and I had after the Council pulled him aside. I thought it was better that newsouls were being born—rather than no one being born—but for others, newsouls would be a constant reminder of Templedark and the souls who’d been lost.
“My point is—” I smoothed the shaking from my voice, needing to sound stronger. “Unless we do something, people will continue acting out against newsouls. I’m sure you’ve all heard Merton and his friends in the market field, yelling about me.”
“Anid, too,” Lorin added.
At least Merton had a reason to yell about me. The way sylph behaved around me was suspicious. But Anid hadn’t done anything.
“I want to tell you what it was like growing up. Not just because of Li”—people hissed at her name—“but being different, and understanding how different and hated I was before I could even speak. You need to understand what it means to be a newsoul: knowing everyone wishes you were the darksoul you replaced.”
Haltingly, I spoke about the previous Soul Night, now nearly a quindec ago. I tried not to pay attention to the winces and mutters as I recounted how the revelers had stared at me from across the campfire. I told them how I’d needed to teach myself to read and do chores. How I’d always known nothing I did was new or innovative; someone else had already accomplished it, or figured out a better way.
“It’s humiliating to be new. To be the only one.” My voice dipped low as I found Anid cradled in Lidea’s arms. “And now there are all these new people coming. They could be anything. Scientists, explorers, musicians, warriors. But they’re going to feel out of place and confused, always knowing what happened to allow them to have a life. They might feel guilty for something they had no control over. They might feel like a mistake.”
Sam tensed, his unease a silent reminder of all the times he urged me to know I wasn’t responsible for Ciana’s absence. But knowing didn’t mean it was easy to believe; the people who threw rocks at me knew I hadn’t done anything to Ciana. So did Merton, but he still ranted about me at every opportunity.
“I want to talk to people who are pregnant,” I said. “Any of them could give birth to a newsoul, and don’t you think most of them will want basic rights and protection for their children?” Surely they weren’t all like Li. Lidea wasn’t; she gave me hope. “I wasn’t even allowed into the city without a lot of bargaining with the Council and many of you agreeing to help. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that kind of fight, just to be allowed to live with the rest of civilization.
“We need to make people understand that the newsoul they give birth to will—” My voice caught like I didn’t know how to say the word. Maybe I hadn’t until now. “Their child will love them no matter what. And they’ll need to be loved, too.”
Sam sat up straighter, this time at the word. It felt strange in my mouth.
He probably wondered if I’d loved Li in spite of everything. Her death had upset me, but I’d never loved her.
“If more people knew, it might help.” My voice faltered. I tried to look anywhere but others’ eyes. The harp or honeycomb shelf. Maybe they’d all think I was making eye contact with everyone, just hadn’t reached them yet. “What I mean to say is, it’s worth discussing newsoul rights. The breakin at Lidea’s is inexcusable. What were they going to do to him? Kill him?”
Across the room, Lidea shuddered and held Anid close. Next to her, Wend shifted and stared at me, as though surprised I could consider such awful things happening.
“Anid—and the others who will be here soon—are worthy of a champion. They’ll bring new ideas and insights into the world, but right now there are no laws to protect them. How can they ever feel like part of the community if no one will stand up for them?”