Confused, I feel the jar of the tower as another body leaps onto the ladder. Ofru gives me a jaunty wave and clambers down.
Down.
It’s so easy a trick that I overlooked it entirely. I can’t help but shake my head, half laughing and half-disgusted with myself.
A bell rings out of the depths. The villagers cheer the victor.
Of course I climb down, because I have to see. The enclosed space smells of dirt and secrets. Ofru is seated on a ladder rung, feet dangling just above the water. Beside him a handbell hangs from a hook on the tower’s scaffolding. He’s holding a brass cup.
“I didn’t expect this,” I say, perching beside him.
It’s too dim to see his expression but I hear the grin in his tone. “You ran that trial well, Honored Niece, but you were looking for the wrong landmark.”
“Why a bell in a cistern instead of a victor’s ribbon on a tower?”
“The Fives court represents the land of Efea. Water is the blood of the land. The bell represents the pulse of the Mother of All’s heart.”
“Do you ever run a trial so you win by climbing up?”
“A victory tower is the Saroese custom, not ours. We use ours as a watchtower, to keep an eye out for people we need to hide from. But to win a trial, you must climb down to ring the bell. It’s traditional for the victor to pour well water over their head.”
He dips the cup into the water and pours a few drops out onto his hair, then generously offers the cup to me. “You try it, Adversary. You earned the right.”
Here in the depths, there’s an uncanny whisper, maybe just the slow voice of the still water or maybe the five souls of the earth trying to speak to me. When I tip the cup over my head, I pour too much, a big splash, and Ofru laughs in a friendly way. But the cool water sliding down my face feels like a blessing, not a mistake. For an instant I feel that the land of Efea has whispered a secret in a language I don’t understand.
He hangs the cup back up beside the bell and we climb out.
Kenwis and Precious are waiting. Kenwis enthusiastically gives me the kiss-off sign as a show of respect. I flash him the sign back as a courtesy, and he bounces in excitement as he starts asking me questions about my practice regimen. He breaks off when Ro saunters up with a flock of admirers behind.
“Spider!” Ro pulls my attention away from Kenwis. “I would say you ran well, except I can’t because you made the wrong choice.”
“I don’t think you’re talking about the trial,” I jab back. “But if you know so much about the Fives, why did you tell me that it isn’t an Efean game, that the Saroese brought it to Efea?”
“Because that’s the truth.”
“But my father never heard of the Fives until he came to Efea. The game doesn’t exist in old Saro. And if it’s not Efean at all, then why is there a Fives court in the middle of every Efean village I’ve ever been in? Why does this village run the Fives with a slightly different set of rules and traditions, ones that make sense for Efeans but not for Saroese?”
“When did you start caring so much about Efean customs, schemer?”
“I’m half-Efean, you know, not just half-Saroese. Anyway, I intend to figure it out to prove you wrong.”
He laughs, but when I glance past him to see if Kal has appeared yet, he draws Precious into conversation as if he wants me to notice him paying attention to another girl.
Mis comes up, accompanied by several girls our age who are eager to congratulate me. “If we hurry, there will be time to bathe before supper. With me, I mean, not the one you wish you could wash with.”
I laugh. “I’m so filthy and sweaty I’ll bathe even with you. But shouldn’t we get on our way after that? With a few lanterns and the moon, we can ride at least part of the night. We have to get to my father as quickly as possible.”
Mis looks at me with something like disappointment on her face. “We can’t leave before Ro gives the dames the poetry we’ve promised. You know that. Now come on.”
The bathing pool lies on the outskirts of the village, a walled compound that also encloses an herb and flower garden.
Our new friends peer at me excitedly. “The honored poet is so charming and handsome. Are you in love with him?”
“He’s got the cry of a peacock, that’s for certain. Loud enough that all the peahens are sure to hear him.”
Of course they want to hear more about him as we wash in tubs and rinse with a swim in the outdoor pool. Yet I don’t mind the gossipy chatter, even if I have to detail every least thing I know about Ro-emnu. Washing amid a flock of friendly girls reminds me of how much I miss my sisters. It makes me think of Bettany and how she left us, a grief as harsh now as the day she betrayed me and Amaya. Despite everything, I hope she is safe because I know that is what Mother would want for her, even if I can’t forgive her.
I put up my hair, and when I pull my sheath gown back on I look like the other girls except that I, of course, will never look entirely Efean with my Saroese eyes.
Afterward we troop back to the central square. The open space in front of the guest porch has filled up with villagers seated on mats. Lamps burn around us like stars fallen to earth. Father told me once that when he first came to Saryenia, Efea dazzled him because of its light. Where he had grown up, night meant you were trapped inside as darkness stalked the streets. Only the wealthy could afford lamp oil and candles. But in Efea every village and household presses its own lamp oil from sesame seeds and castor beans. Markets, festivals, and entertainments thrive in the cool of night after a hot day.
A table laden with food awaits us. We fold flatbread around a spicy mash of gingered fish and leeks, and tear off chunks of bread to spoon up delicious bites of a lentil-tamarind-and-date stew, finishing off this repast with sweet slices of melon. I almost feel it’s wrong to savor it, knowing Nikonos is surely already on the road, getting closer and closer to Father while I linger over a meal.
And yet it tastes so good.
Kal is seated behind Khamu on the porch. He has bathed and is wearing a clean keldi and laced-up linen jacket like all the village men. “Kallos” is invisible in a way Kalliarkos can never be, except for his lighter coloring and short, straight black hair. For that matter, I’ve not been called a mule even once in this village. For the first time in our lives, we are just two young people in a crowd.
I stay standing until Kal sees me amid the other girls.
Our gazes lock.
“Spider!” Ro lifts a mug of palm wine in my direction as a salute. He wears his jacket gaping open to show off his manly chest. “Now that you’re here, Adversary, I can begin.”
All at once I realize there’s a way to be sure no one will have any possible interest in me for quite a long time. All I have to do is force Ro to change the order of his presentation.
Since everyone is looking at me, I flash the kiss-off sign in Ofru’s direction.
“Well run, Adversary,” I call out to cheers. “Not many people can defeat me.”