Charles laughed. "Doesn't he play with all their lives? Thank you, Maggie. I'll take that as a vote of confidence. I think. Jo, let's go down to your room and you can show me how you reached your dating results."
They dispersed. Maggie following Charles and Jo out the door. Rajiv did not move, but he was well sunk into a working trance, manipulating his pathways in a shimmering three dimensions in the air above his slate. David sighed and moved to follow the others. "Aren't you coming?" he asked Marco.
"Which makes me Caliban," said Marco under his breath. "And of course she plays Miranda."
"What?"
Marco started. He shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind. Yes, let's go see Jo's results. So, David my boy, I hear you're the spitfire's new favorite."
David chuckled, since this was old, familiar banter. "You should talk. Wasn't her cousin-the blonde one-courting you the entire time we were at camp?" In charity with each other, they left Rajiv to his task, light glittering and spinning in the tiny room like the web of a sorcerer's working.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Tess kept vigil.
All that day, although in the afternoon Sonia made her walk outside. "You must keep up your strength, Tess," Sonia scolded. "It does a woman no good to weaken herself when she's pregnant."
Cara brought up one of her wagons in the late afternoon. That night she and Ursula, with Aleksi aiding them, set up a bed which would monitor Ilya's condition continuously. With some clever drapery of fabric, the doctor arranged an intravenous system to keep him in fluids; then she set up her cot out in the outer chamber of their great tent. The wind shook the tent walls incessantly, so that the noise became like a lullaby, monotonous and soothing. Tess slept, a little.
In the morning Sonia charged Aleksi with taking Tess for walks, one in the morning, one in the afternoon. Cara made some excuse about the bed, but since Sonia had been in Jeds, she accepted the excuses and was dissuaded from investigating too closely. In any case, she had the rest of the extended family to provide for, and the Orzhekov tribe to administer, and Tess to worry about.
Tess sat by the bedside, not stirring unless someone approached her directly. Katerina drew aside different flaps within the tent to let the wind through, to cool it down, but the air remained stuffy. In the afternoon, Aleksi came.
"Come." He took her hand and drew her to her feet. Ilya lay still and silent on the bed. "The doctor will watch. You must come outside and walk."
She went, because it was easier than protesting and because he was right. Outside was an armed camp. The gold banner whipped in the wind atop the tent. Vladimir and Konstans stood on either side of the awning, white-faced, like statues. Two rings of guards circled the Orzhekov camp, the great tent at the center. A stone's throw out, a line of unmounted men paced; farther, horsemen rode a tight circle. Sonia held court under the awning of her tent, and supplicants came forward one by one to address her. Beyond, the stark outline of the ridgetop shimmered against the blue sky. It was hot, and the wind was hot, and the sun beat down on the height like a hammer.
The light and the weight of her anguish bewildered Tess. "What's going on?"
"The rumors are spreading," said Aleksi. "Sonia is letting etsanas and dyans in one by one to assure them that all is well."
"Which it isn't."
"Tess."
"I'm sorry." She felt dizzy. She rested a hand on his arm.
"We'll walk," he said sternly. They made a circuit of the inner ring of guards, composed mostly of men from the Orzhekov tribe itself, who were also part of Ilya's own thousand. What was wrong? they asked her. Was he ill of a fever? Was it true that a Habakar priest had witched his spirit out of his body, and that they were even now battling in the gods' lands for control of the Habakar kingdom? Tess found meaningless words to reassure them, but mostly Aleksi talked. They walked one circuit around, and then a second. The second was easier, because the guards let her walk in peace.
"A third time," said Aleksi, "and then you must eat. Tess." He hesitated. She plodded on. She felt heavy and full, and her breasts were beginning to swell. She had a horrible irrational fear that she was going to get the child in exchange for Ilya, and she realized that she wanted Ilya more.
"If I could take back what I did-" she said, and an instant later realized that she had said it aloud.
"What did you do?" Aleksi asked.
"Dr. Hierakis is eighty-two years old."
He caught up to her and, with a touch on her elbow, stopped her. Then he looked once to each side, as if he thought the wind itself might be listening. "You mean that."
"It's true."
"But she looks no older than-Ilya. Perhaps a little older, because she carries herself like an Elder. How old is your brother, Tess?"
"He's seventy-seven. Fifty years older than me."
"How can you have the same parents?"
"Because we live longer."
"Are you zayinu? They say the old ones lived long lives and never aged. But they fled across the seas and under the hills long before the jaran came to these lands.''
"No. Well, yes, in a way, but only because of our machines. We are like you, Aleksi. We're the same, it's just that our machines allow us to live longer and travel farther." She sighed. "You don't believe me, do you?"
But his face was quite still. She could not tell what he was thinking. "Can you make us live so long and stay so young?"
She hung her head. On this height, the wind had scoured the ground clean of vegetation and loose soil, leaving only a hard-packed earth surface and the rougher solidity of bare rock. "That's what I was trying to do."
"Ah." They continued their walk in silence.
"Tess!"
Her heart pounded wildly. She spun around to find the source of the voice. There he was: Kirill, riding through the lines. He swung down from his horse, threw the reins to a waiting guard, and ran over to her. She did not care that they were there in the open, where everyone could see; she hugged him hard and would have held him longer, but he disengaged himself from her gently. He took a single step back from her, to emphasize that they stood apart.
"Tess," he said more softly. "Is is true?" She nodded, but could not speak. "Gods," he said in a low voice. "But we have come so far." He shifted to stare at the tent, at the bright walls shifting in the wind, and Tess realized that although the sling still cradled his arm, his shoulder looked odd to her.
"Kirill." She grasped his withered hand, clutching the fingers where they peeked out from the cloth sling. And felt them move.
She shrieked, and then, for the first time in two days, she laughed, because she was so surprised.
He took hold of her shoulder with his good hand. "Shhh!" He glanced at Aleksi, but Aleksi only smiled enigmatically and looked away. "Don't say anything. Gods, don't cry, Tess." He stroked her hair, briefly, and dropped his hand from her. "Five days ago my arm began to tingle all over. It hurt. Yesterday my hand came alive. Tess." He stared at her earnestly, the fine blue of his eyes no less bright than the brilliant bowl of the sky. "If the spirit can return to my arm, then surely Ilya's spirit can find its way back to his body. Fight its way back, if I know him."
"Then he will be a Singer," said Aleksi quietly. "He'll be gods-touched, like Raysia Grekov.''
"Gods," echoed Kirill in a muted voice. "Like his own father.''
"Kirill Zvertkov." It was Katerina. "My mother wants to see you. You haven't paid your respects to her yet."
He grinned. "Of course, little one."
"I'm not so little anymore," she said tartly.
"Quite right," he agreed. "Tess." He walked with Katerina over to the other tent.
"Tess," said Aleksi, "you're rather free with how you act in public with married men, and you married, too."