Her smile put me in mind of a basking lizard awaiting its inattentive dinner. “I don’ mind saying we shall miss yee this evening. Yee get a nap. Yee have not yet danced at an areito.”
I just could not tell her. “No. I haven’t done that.”
She exchanged glances with Brenna and Uncle Joe. I was too restless to nap, so I made myself busy with sweeping and mending while Brenna spent hours braiding Luce’s hair. Luce chattered the whole while for she was so excited that she would get to go with us. I could not bear to break Luce’s heart by not going. And I wanted to go; I wanted to dance and sing at an areito. Bee wouldn’t begrudge me one more night. Rory would enjoy such a festival! Tomorrow I could make my farewells.
It rained, but the clouds cleared off under a brisk wind. I washed in the shower, and afterward Luce, her hair done, dragged me upstairs to dress. She wore a lovely pagne and a new blouse. She brought a mirror and, while I dressed, held it to check the way her tiny braids curved in at the ends around the back. When I complimented her, she smiled.
“Oooh me stars!” She angled the mirror to show me the cut and fit from behind. “No wonder yee saved this for an areito! Yee look so fine!”
Normally I wore the wrapped skirt and a loose cotton blouse that was the common fashion, but over the weeks I had labored over piecing together a skirt from my ruined petticoats, one that flattered my waist and hips but gave me plenty of room for my long stride and for climbing if need be. The top had proved harder to devise, since there was no possible reason to wear layers of clothing as we did in the north. I had cut down my wool jacket to three-quarter sleeves and a hem that ended at my hip bones. The wool challis wicked the moisture off my skin; layered over my sleeveless cotton bodice, it was quite comfortable.
She set down the mirror, sat me on the end of the bed, and began brushing out my hair, as she liked to do, humming a popular street melody. I heard footsteps at the base of the stairs. Luce brushed on obliviously, unaware.
The low, sardonic voice was Kayleigh’s. “Is that a bed???”
“I thought it was time to get off those uncomfortable cots,” answered Vai in a tone whose cheerfulness made me suspicious.
“Then why is there only one bed, Vai?”
“I can only make one at a time. After I’m done with my regular work.”
A bed!
“Cat?” Lucretia bent to look in my face. “Yee went stiff, like a frog hopped over yee foot.”
Vai was still speaking. “Aren’t you going to the areito? Kofi hopes so.”
Kayleigh’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I have to go back. But I had to bring you this news. This is not rumor. General Camjiata returned to the city last night.”
I choked.
Luce clucked. “’Tis sweet that yee’s nervous.”
Kayleigh was going on, voice tight and accusatory. “I’m no good at being a spy. I jump at every noise. I bump into things. I hate being indoors. It’s not the cleaning work that’s hard. It’s that I can’t stop thinking they’re about to catch me and whip me and then hang me.”
“I wouldn’t ask it of you if I could do it myself.”
Her tone softened. “I know, Vai. I know you’ll never stop putting us first. I know you’ll never stop trying. It’s not fair I get away and no one else does. You know I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“Then tell me. Do I look all right?”
She snickered. “I cannot believe you just asked that.”
“Cat, have a bat stolen yee mind?” Lucretia rapped me on the head with the brush.
“What makes you think I’m nervous?” I rose indignantly as the door opened.
Kayleigh entered. She ventured into monosyllables as she looked me up and down. “That’s so fine, Cat. I’m so tired of these cursed lengths of cloth we have to wrap for skirts.”
“My thanks,” I said cautiously. “I could buy more material and sew you a similar skirt. A jacket will be harder. I’ll have to make a pattern for it.” Then I remembered I was leaving.
“Me, too, Cat!” cried Lucretia.
Kayleigh looked tired. I suppose a spy’s work would be tiring if you didn’t enjoy skulking and eavesdropping, and if you couldn’t draw shadows around you to hide yourself from everyone except the ones you most needed to hide from.
Her wan smile seemed genuine. “That would be nice, Cat. You look very pretty.”
I hoped I wasn’t flushed. “I really would love to make you a skirt.” Lucretia pinched me. “And of course one for pestiferous Luce.”
Luce giggled.
Kayleigh sank down on her cot and rested her head on her arms.
“Kayleigh? Are you well?” I took a step toward her.
She gestured with a hand. “I have to go back to Warden Hall. The scullery girl came down sick.” She hesitated, then went on into her arms. “I’m sorry I haven’t been nicer to you, Cat.”
“I hope he hasn’t been scolding you. Vai ought to appreciate you better.”
She glanced up with a surprised look. I thought she was about to speak, and I braced myself because I was sure it would be words I did not want to hear. But she rubbed her forehead and said, “I’ll just rest a bit. Enjoy yourself tonight. I mean that.” She lay down.
I grabbed my cane and slid it through the loop I had sewn into the waistband. If I was going to go, then I was cursed well going to enjoy myself. Just this one areito.
Lucretia said, “Cat, we have not braided yee hair.”
“I think I won’t.” Let him see it all unbound!
“A kerchief, then.” She followed me out. “Yee shall really look nice with the kerchief.”
Vai stood in the courtyard talking with Kofi, who saw me and with a startled expression nudged Vai. He turned, looking up as I swanned down the stairs, Lucretia at my heels. Just for a moment he looked as if he had been kicked by a horse. Or perhaps it was me feeling the hoof slamming into my head, for he wore a jacket I recognized from Adurnam, a chained pattern of red and gold so bold only a confident man could pull off. There was something about the way he wore clothes that choked admiration out of people who wished not to be quite so stifled by a feeling I could only describe as… No. After all, I could not describe it.
“Catherine. There you are. Time to go.” He extended a hand, meaning me to take it.
Kofi looked embarrassed. An armature of wood and netted rope rested behind them on the ground: the bed. It was wider than the narrow cot; two might share such a bed if they were willing to lie together in a loving embrace. My arm trembled, for I found I could not decide whether to keep it held firmly at my side as I knew I must, or to reach for him.
Vai smiled in the most annoying manner possible, as if he understood my struggle.
“No!” Aunty appeared, wiping her hands on a cloth. Lucretia whimpered and retreated up several steps. “A kerchief, or a braid, gal. Yee’s not leaving me house with yee hair unbound.”
“Oh,” I said, petrified into immobility. I had never seen her angry before.
She turned on Vai. “Yee should know better, maku.” When she said “maku,” her tone bit.
The fire in the kitchen hearth flickered out. Over by the bar, Uncle Joe cursed. “Did yee not set that wick properly?” he said to one of the lads.
Vai lowered his gaze and let his hand fall to his side. “I beg your pardon. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Not with yee mind, that is for sure.” She yanked the kerchief out of her granddaughter’s hand as Lucretia gave an audible gulp. “I shall tend to Cat me own self. Go sit by the kitchen, Cat. As for yee,” she added, nodding to Kofi, “yee take the maku and go on. The gals shall come after.”
Kofi stammered an almost inaudible leave-taking, grabbed Vai’s arm, and dragged him off.
I followed Aunty over to the kitchen, where I sat on a stool. She fetched a comb, gave a look to the children that made them flee to the safety of Uncle Joe, and began a single thick braid.
“Yee do fidget, gal. Never again.”
“Never again what?”
“Unbound hair is how sly women advertise they wares, and witches entwine they victims.”