I stand just to prove her wrong and slip on the gravel as I do. I grab the boulder again to steady myself. She laughs. It makes me angry.
“I am Edmon of House Leontes. You had no right to sneak up on me! And I’m not little!” Even to my own ears, I sound like a petulant toddler.
“How old are you?” She laughs in my face, and for the first time, I really notice her. She’s maybe a year or two older than me. She has dark skin and bright mahogany eyes with flecks of green in them. Her dark brown hair falls in tousled strands across her oval face. A little mole on her cheek is the only mark on her otherwise unblemished skin. She’s pretty. All of a sudden, I feel nervous and tongue-tied.
“Nine!” I say with mock bravado.
“You sound two,” she retorts. “Anyway, I’m turning eleven.” She says this as if it means she wins. “And I just saved your life, Edmon of House Leontes. I’ve been coming here since I was six. So this is my spot. And I can do whatever I want.”
“This is my island. It belongs to my father, Edric Leontes, who was granted the deed by the High Synod after winning two Combats! That means I own everything on it.” I try to use the words I’ve learned since the audience with the emperor to sound smart, but next to this girl, a commoner with no fancy educational equipment, I feel dumber than a stick in the sand.
Nadia snorts derisively. “People can’t own places.”
“Don’t you know anything?” I counter.
“I know lots of things,” she says archly. “Like how to not fall off a cliff. In fact, I’m the best climber on Bone,” she boasts. “I can crimp a snag on any crag you see on this island. The whale’s tooth, the siren’s hump, the manta face. I even crack-climbed the high fathom.”
I have no clue what any of these things are, but I don’t want to let her know that. “Who taught you that?”
“My brother, Yanoa,” she says sadly. “He was taken to Meridian by the emperor’s men and forced to participate in the Combat.”
I thought competing was always voluntary. I’ve never heard of them forcing people like Nadia’s brother before.
“I’m also an excellent dancer,” she adds before I can get a word in. “Hey, if you own this island, does that mean you own me, too?”
“I don’t know. I guess so. At least my father does.”
“And you own everything your father owns?”
Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I’ve been disinherited. I still don’t even know what that means exactly.
“Nobody owns me!” Nadia shouts. “One person can’t own another. I climb where I want, and I dance when I want.”
“You don’t know anything. Have you been to Meridian?” I ask.
“You have?” she jabs back.
I nod.
“But you’re a Daysider?” she asks.
“I don’t know what I am.” I slide to the ground, my back against the rock. “My mother’s a Daysider. My father he’s . . . not.”
“Oh.” Realization comes to her face. “You’re telling the truth. Edmon Leontes . . . you’re the half-Nightsider who lives in the mansion.” She points to the top of the island a little way away. “I’ve heard of you, but you don’t usually come into the town to play.”
She lowers herself from the top of the boulder and bends down. She looks at me more closely.
“You were crying?” she asks.
“No, I wasn’t!”
“You were,” she says. “You are!”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” What I really want is someone to tell everything to.
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” She walks away.
“Wait!” I shout, and she turns back.
I tell her everything. I tell her about Alberich and the sondi flying over Meridian. I tell her about seeing a city and twilight for the first time. I tell her about the throne room, Old Wusong, Lavinia, and Phoebe. I tell her about the Fracture Point and the strangers, a new place called Lyria and chocolate. I tell her about the curious boy with red hair. I tell her about Olympias and about Edgaard, my brother, the new heir of House Leontes. Finally, I tell her how my father beat my mother in front of everyone as they laughed.
“That’s it. That’s all there is.”
The star of Tao shines hot above us. It’s a second or two before either of us speaks.
“Do you hate Edgaard?” she asks.
I should hate him, shouldn’t I? He took my place, but he’s just a boy with a smiling face. How can I hate a boy I don’t even know?
“It’s not his fault.”
Nadia nods. “I think your father would want you to hate him.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you hated him, wouldn’t you want to prove that you should be the heir and not him?” she asks.
“I guess,” I say slowly. “How would I prove that?”
“How do you think?” asks Nadia.
My father said that there was only one path before me, that the island would not prepare me for what I needed to know.
“The Combat?” I think it out. “If I hated Edgaard, I’d want to prove that I’m better. I’d try to be a fighter like my father wants, and I’d enter the Combat.”
“If you win, you’ll join the College of Electors and might be voted into the High Synod. That’s how Edric founded House Leontes. That would earn his love and respect. Is that what you want?” she asks.
“No,” I answer. “I hate him. Not Edgaard. I hate my father. I’m going to kill him someday.”
“Maybe that’s also what he wants?” Nadia suggests. “If you hate your father and want to kill him, he wins,” she says solemnly. “He wants for you to be a fighter, a killer. That’s not balance.”
“I don’t care!” The words burst out of me. “What he did to my mother—”
“He should be punished,” she cuts me off. “But not by you.”
“Why not?” I ask curiously.
“I don’t think you want to be like him.” She stands, head tilted to one side. “What is it you want to be, Edmon Leontes?”
Her question catches me off guard. I just stare at her dumbly for a moment. It’s the same question the emperor asked me.
“I want to be a musician. But I don’t think music is something that people think is useful.”
“Who says?” she asks defiantly.
I shrug. “Old Gorham has taught me to play quarter and eighth notes. I can play an upbeat. I try to practice scales. None of it is useful. It doesn’t help catch food or clean the house. What good is it?”
“Well, why do you want to be a musician?” she repeats, not letting it go.
Again, I’m not sure what to say. I stop thinking and just blurt out, “Because I’m good at it. Because it’s beautiful. Because it makes me feel good. Because maybe it makes other people feel good, too. One time, I played, and my mother danced. The whole crowd cheered. I love to play, and people love me when I do.”
“You think that’s not useful?” The wind brushes strands of hair across her mahogany eyes. “I’d like to see you play sometime.” She turns to leave.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
She walks up the path. “Home, Little Leontes,” she calls back, mocking me with the words of Old Wusong.
“Don’t call me that!” I snap.
She laughs. “You don’t own me. I can call you whatever I want.”
She disappears between the crevices in the boulders at the top of the path.