Incarnate

“I’ll remove things as necessary. Besides, this way if someone knocks me over, I have lots of padding to land on.”

 

 

“You plan for that?” Cold air zipped inside as he opened the door. The sky was blue and clear beyond the skeletal trees and, except for the chill, it was the perfect day for my first market.

 

“I do now.” I hadn’t forgotten the way people had glared at me my first morning in the city, and their muttered opinions that I shouldn’t be allowed to stay in Heart. I couldn’t forget, because it happened every time we left the house.

 

We headed down the walkway and road, chatting about this week’s song. étude. I was supposed to remember there were different forms of music. He corrected my use of the word “song” when I used it to describe everything. Songs had words, he insisted.

 

As we neared South Avenue, voices, clopping hooves, and whistles drifted on a breeze. I hopped, holding my hat steady. “I can hear it!”

 

He laughed and waited for me to finish bouncing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited.”

 

“I’ve been wearing someone else’s clothes my whole life. Li’s, whatever Cris left behind, and now yours. Having something that’s my own will make it seem like—” Like I was a real person, not just the nosoul. But I didn’t want him to feel bad for not magically conjuring new clothes for me.

 

“Race you to the avenue?” It was only a hundred feet away, and no contest if he was serious, but he was trying to keep the mood light, so I didn’t wait to agree, just sprinted as fast as I could. He caught up easily but let me win.

 

The market came into view, shadowed under the temple and Councilhouse. Hundreds of colorful tents filled the area, cheery as a garden. The voices of thousands of people became a dull roar that grew louder as we neared. They milled around in bright colors, some with shopping bags, some with arms full of pottery, wooden whatevers, and clothes. A hundred scents assaulted my nose: cooking chicken, fresh bread, and spicier things I couldn’t name.

 

Sam pulled out his SED. Light flashed, and I blinked away stars. “So I can keep you like this forever.” He showed me the screen, which held an image of me grinning like an idiot.

 

“I look dumb.”

 

“You look adorable.”

 

I rolled my eyes as he put the SED back in his pocket. “Later, when you’re not expecting it, I’m going to take a photo of you.”

 

“That’s mean. I hate having my picture taken.”

 

I let my tone go mocking. “I’m sure you’ll look adorable.”

 

Strains of music floated along the breeze. I twirled and performed one of the steps Stef had taught us that morning, and Sam clapped. “Nicely done.”

 

“I like dance lessons.”

 

“They’re endurable.” He smiled, and I imagined he secretly enjoyed our morning routine as much as I did. Dance, chores, and music. Always music.

 

“Your lessons are still my favorite,” I said, earning one of his rare true smiles. After my turn on the piano, though, when he took his personal practice and I was supposed to be studying, it was really hard to focus on mathematics.

 

In the two weeks since we’d faced the Council—then each other in the hallway—we’d managed to find a place where our relationship was friendly and comfortable. Not like before we’d come to Heart, but we’d never be like that again. The Council’s rules made sure of that.

 

Still, happiness had been foreign to me before now. I never wanted this to end.

 

“Sam!” Stef waved us over as we approached the outskirts of the market. She peered at me. “The clothes are walking, so I assume Ana is in there. Somewhere.”

 

I stuck my tongue out at her as we waded into the fray. People held jewelry and clothes, jars of fruit preserves and baskets. We stopped to look at everything; Sam and Stef must have been bored silly, even when Sarit and Whit joined us, but they endured my ogling for two hours. In addition to serviceable trousers and tops, I finally chose a soft wool sweater in cream, and a deep blue skirt that went down to my ankles. I also ended up with a pair of shoes and boots, since Li’s castoffs were too big. Sam’s, from when he’d been a teenage girl, fit better, but they were old.

 

With all that and handfuls of underclothes, I felt . . . real. Special. Like when Sam first played my song. Waltz, he’d corrected.

 

“Where next?” Whit sipped from his bottle of water while we took a break on the northern edge of the market mayhem. The temple rose above, bright white against sapphire. I angled away from it, trying to spot the orchards in the agricultural quarter of Heart.

 

“Cheese. Oh, and fruit preserves. I saw some on the south end. Sam doesn’t have any. He wants both of us to get scurvy.” I winked at him and began rolling up my scarf; as he’d warned, so many people, all young and old and in between, made the market field hot. I’d never seen such a crowd, but it was less intimidating with Sam and his friends around.

 

“We had a lesson with Armande last week. Ana is convinced she can bake anything.”

 

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