Incarnate

He closed his eyes and again, I wasn’t fast enough to comprehend his expressions. “I promise I’ll tell you, just not right now. I really have to go.”

 

 

“If you’re not telling me so I’ll still have fun tonight, you’re stupid. Now I’m going to worry about everything.” I balled my fists in my sleeves. “I mean, you gave me a knife. How am I supposed to feel after that?”

 

“I’m sorry, Ana. There’s just too much to explain right now.”

 

“When you get back, then.” I didn’t lower my gaze, even though he towered over me and my neck pinched from holding my head at this angle. “If it involves me, I have a right to know.”

 

“Very well. As soon as I return.” His smile was forced. “Please don’t leave.”

 

“You’d have to be a lot meaner than ruining breakfast to drive me away. After all, it took me eighteen years to leave Li, and you know how awful she was.” My equally forced smile dropped when we both realized how those last words could have sounded, like I could really compare Sam to Li. My tone hollowed. “I’ll be here.”

 

He nodded, brushed hair off my face, and headed from the kitchen. “I hate being a teenager.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Hormones.” With a sad half smile, he left.

 

Since he was out for the morning and I had no engagements—the library was closed for masquerade preparation, and no lessons had been scheduled for today—I took the opportunity to try on my costume to make sure I liked the way everything fit. It made me look like not-me, and took ages to put on right, but I was satisfied with the results.

 

Carefully, I removed everything and returned it to its hiding spot.

 

I went outside to take care of chores. Animals didn’t feed themselves. Just as I finished everything, I heard Sam and Stef over the murmur of cavies and clucking of chickens. I dropped the old work gloves on a shelf and started around the house to tell them I was outside and could hear their very private discussion.

 

“It explains a lot about Ana, doesn’t it?” Stef asked.

 

I stopped by the walkway. They were just beyond the trees by the street, close enough that their voices carried clearly. With the rustle of pine boughs, they might not know I was here. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, since I’d just told Sam I didn’t sneak, but if their private discussion was about me, it wasn’t fair that I was excluded.

 

Sam said, “When we were warming up by the lake, she kept waiting for me to toss her back into the cold. I think she was afraid I’d take her food, too.” His tone was all disbelief. How ridiculous I must have been. “She was convinced that everything I did was somehow a joke against her.”

 

“She doesn’t act like that now.” Stef’s voice came from the same place as before. They weren’t moving. Probably so they wouldn’t carry their conversation into the house where I could hear.

 

“She doesn’t, but it’s taken a lot of convincing, and I’m not sure her first reaction isn’t still defensiveness. Eighteen years of Li doesn’t seem like a long time to us, but that’s her whole life.”

 

Stef hmm-ed. “It’s a shame our first newsoul had to grow up like that.” In the pause, I imagined her pushing back her long hair, or doing something else thoughtlessly graceful. “Do you think what Li said about Ciana could be true? It’s been, what, at least twenty-three years since she died. She isn’t coming back.”

 

I didn’t want to hear this. Not about Ciana. But my feet were too heavy to lift, as if the hot sunshine had melted them to the grass.

 

“I don’t know,” Sam said, and I couldn’t breathe. “Ana had nothing to do with it, just as we have nothing to do with being reincarnated.” At those words, I started breathing again. “For a while, I thought there was a finite number of times we could be reborn, but you’ve died a lot more times than Ciana.”

 

“Weaving isn’t usually explosive.”

 

He ignored her sarcasm. “Ciana and I became close after you cleverly crushed yourself in the compactor—”

 

This time it seemed my heart stopped. He’d said as much before, but now I wondered. How close? Lovers? And I’d taken her away forever. How could he stand to look at me?

 

“A laser went off and I fell,” Stef insisted. “It hurt a lot, just so you know.”

 

“You didn’t spend the next three weeks cleaning you out of there. I have just as much right to complain as you.” Sam gave a tired laugh. “Anyway, after you died, Ciana and I became close. I guess I felt like we hadn’t done much together in a long while, so it was time to catch up. I’m glad we did.”

 

I squeezed my eyes shut, hugging myself so tight my ribs hurt. Save the occasional mention, he’d never talked to me about Ciana. Of course he wouldn’t.

 

“We all expected her to come back,” Stef said gently. “It’s good she wasn’t alone at the end.”

 

“Li would have had her, and Ana wouldn’t exist.” Sam’s tone was impossible to read. Sad, melancholy. But that didn’t tell me if he wished I were Ciana.

 

I wished I were Ciana.

 

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