On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [151]
Kevla was deeply moved. She regarded her father steadily, taking in the strong features that so reminded her of Jashemi.
She squeezed his arm and he turned to look at her. “Tahmu-kha-Rakyn,” she said evenly, “I will take your name.”
Slowly, his lips curved in a smile. “It was Jashemi’s name,” he said.
“May his name forever be spoken,” Kevla said, as she leaned over and kissed her father’s cheek.
The dawn was crisp and bright, a good omen. The clans were preparing for departure, breaking down the encampments. She had assisted them in a solemn duty before she had slept that night; lighting the funeral pyres for the honored dead. There had not been as many as she had feared, but enough so that the task was heartbreaking.
She was walking toward the Dragon, carrying a small bundle of provisions Sahlik had packed for her, when a woman approached her and said, “Kevla-sha-Tahmu?”
The name still sounded so strange, but also very sweet. Kevla turned to see who had addressed her and saw tears in the woman’s eyes.
“My name is Shali-sha-Terku.” Kevla hoped her face did not register the sudden shock she felt. This was Jashemi’s wife, the one he said he did not love, who deserved better.
She found her voice. “I know your name,” Kevla said. “You are…you are my brother’s widow.”
Shali nodded and placed one hand on her belly. She seemed to be a naturally thin woman, yet her stomach was starting to grow round—
“Can you tell me how he died?”
Guilt weighed Kevla down. To confess to this woman that she had lain with her husband, Kevla’s own kin, would heal nothing and harm much. And though she had once burned with jealousy for Shali, now that she saw the woman and her pain, the only feeling Kevla had for her sister-in-law was compassion. Yet she could not lie. Gently, Kevla took Shali’s hand in her own.
“Jashemi was my Lorekeeper, though neither of us knew it for too long,” she said. “He helped me to discover who I truly am. In so doing, I lost control of my powers and…I killed him.”
It still hurt her so badly she had difficulty breathing. Shali’s hands tightened painfully on hers, squeezing so hard that Kevla wondered if the bones would break.
“You…?”
Kevla nodded. She kept her eyes glued to Shali’s. “I have known no greater pain in this life than having to live with this. I didn’t want to live with it. But I have to, because Arukan needed me. Other people elsewhere need me, need the Dancers, or else we are all doomed.”
“I should hate you,” Shali whispered. “You killed my husband, the father of my baby. But I don’t. I see your suffering. To have bought your power at such a cost—I do not envy you, Kevla-sha-Tahmu, no matter that you ride the Great Dragon.”
Kevla smiled sadly. “Then you are wise indeed, Shali-sha-Terku. The basest beggar on the streets is happier than I.”
“Did…did Jashemi speak of me?”
“He did,” Kevla said. “He said you deserved better than him.”
Shali laughed, though she was starting to cry. “Then Jashemi-kha-Tahmu was a liar. I could have had no better man for my husband in this world.”
Shali began to weep in earnest. Her heart breaking for the girl, for both of them, Kevla took her in her arms and hugged her gently. Shali was smaller than she, and Kevla felt the wetness of tears on her shoulder.
“Be easy, sister,” Kevla said. “I will tell you this and you may know that it is true: His body is gone, but his soul is free. He would want you to be happy, to raise your child in love and peace.”
Your child. Any chance that Kevla had conceived during their single union had been shattered that same night. The fire that had claimed Jashemi had surely also destroyed any seed he might have planted in her womb. If there were to be any heritage from Jashemi,