stone woman, if she’ll see you. But that llama, it’s mine.”
He waved the axe warrior to the llama. Her name was Big Toes. She spat at him, and he cut off her head.
The slaughter ended the talk. There wasn’t anything more to say, and Jerani couldn’t have made words. Too much anger stampeded through him, too much relief. They had killed a llama but not Celaise. She was alive. Celaise and Jerani could be together another day.
The bull llama was kicking. Jerani had to pull him back. They couldn’t fight this King Spear. Even if he had killed and stolen. It wasn’t right. Nothing was. Everything was, with Celaise.
All the dust the llamas sent into the air put her into a wheezing fit. Jerani waited until she had her breath back. He needed to take the llamas away from all the blood. They walked through the village together. No one else stopped them.
One doorway looked like it went straight into the ground. People trudged out with packs of dirt. Jerani bet it was a mine. Women and children sorted out rocks. One girl ran up to Jerani and Celaise. “Where are you going? Where are you going?”
“To the banyan grove,” Jerani said. “It’s near, isn’t it?”
The girl pointed twice then dashed ahead. Soon, they saw the trees’ dripping branch roots.
“Oh! Don’t try to steal anything.” The girl clasped Jerani’s hand with both her dirty ones. She wasn’t scared of him at all. “She always finds out.”
“You didn’t steal from her, did you?” Jerani asked.
“Yes I did!” The girl laughed, coughed, then ran back to her rock basket.
Jerani and Celaise walked around the banyans. There were many crannies in the trunks, but no telling which would lead inside.
“Last night there was a glow,” Jerani said. “You could see the way in.”
“We should wait.” Celaise slid against a trunk and slumped between two hanging roots. She pulled her head into her poncho.
The llamas quick stepped and shat. They were too frightened to eat. King Spear or not, that warrior hadn’t had the right. But Jerani hadn’t stopped him. Maybe it had been his fault.
Roots draped down from every branch. Jerani had time. Time to regret. Time to think about what he could say to Celaise. Time to walk around the tree wall and guess what wonders waited inside.
Celaise drank the colors of twilight. Pinks, reds, purples, each more soothing than the last. She crouched between the trees, in their sunset shadow. Before her, the black chalice of night tipped higher and higher from the horizon until it upended as a sky full of stars.
Magic flowed within Celaise, rich and potent. The black wine washed away the sun god’s curse. Her bones reknit with a shock of bliss. Her back straightened with a gasp. Her head cleared with a purring moan.
At last she could savor the banyans. The Lady of Gems must’ve made them grow together in a cascade of roots. Or maybe they were naturally so amazing. The branches reached too far, like the grasping tentacles of some monster. Roots dripped down from the underside of each branch, supporting its greed.
Celaise decided this night she would weave her dress out of roots. The lady would’ve never seen such a thing made beautiful. She might be impressed, and that’s what Celaise needed.
She spun her magic into woody vines and coiled them together into a marvel of a skirt. Root hairs brocaded into a bodice. Creepers curved around her back and jutted out in her collar. Roots flared from her chest. The True Dress was a reassuring coolness against her skin.
The root tendrils of her skirt dug into the ground and pulled her forward. She went to Jerani. He started awake then grinned. Her creepers twined around his wrists and pinned him to a banyan. She smothered him with kisses.
He fondled her. Her dress absorbed his awkward touches and turned them into practiced caresses, down her sides, over her breasts. Everything was more intense, more powerful, more real.
The delicate root hairs of her gloves
He waved the axe warrior to the llama. Her name was Big Toes. She spat at him, and he cut off her head.
The slaughter ended the talk. There wasn’t anything more to say, and Jerani couldn’t have made words. Too much anger stampeded through him, too much relief. They had killed a llama but not Celaise. She was alive. Celaise and Jerani could be together another day.
The bull llama was kicking. Jerani had to pull him back. They couldn’t fight this King Spear. Even if he had killed and stolen. It wasn’t right. Nothing was. Everything was, with Celaise.
All the dust the llamas sent into the air put her into a wheezing fit. Jerani waited until she had her breath back. He needed to take the llamas away from all the blood. They walked through the village together. No one else stopped them.
One doorway looked like it went straight into the ground. People trudged out with packs of dirt. Jerani bet it was a mine. Women and children sorted out rocks. One girl ran up to Jerani and Celaise. “Where are you going? Where are you going?”
“To the banyan grove,” Jerani said. “It’s near, isn’t it?”
The girl pointed twice then dashed ahead. Soon, they saw the trees’ dripping branch roots.
“Oh! Don’t try to steal anything.” The girl clasped Jerani’s hand with both her dirty ones. She wasn’t scared of him at all. “She always finds out.”
“You didn’t steal from her, did you?” Jerani asked.
“Yes I did!” The girl laughed, coughed, then ran back to her rock basket.
Jerani and Celaise walked around the banyans. There were many crannies in the trunks, but no telling which would lead inside.
“Last night there was a glow,” Jerani said. “You could see the way in.”
“We should wait.” Celaise slid against a trunk and slumped between two hanging roots. She pulled her head into her poncho.
The llamas quick stepped and shat. They were too frightened to eat. King Spear or not, that warrior hadn’t had the right. But Jerani hadn’t stopped him. Maybe it had been his fault.
Roots draped down from every branch. Jerani had time. Time to regret. Time to think about what he could say to Celaise. Time to walk around the tree wall and guess what wonders waited inside.
Celaise drank the colors of twilight. Pinks, reds, purples, each more soothing than the last. She crouched between the trees, in their sunset shadow. Before her, the black chalice of night tipped higher and higher from the horizon until it upended as a sky full of stars.
Magic flowed within Celaise, rich and potent. The black wine washed away the sun god’s curse. Her bones reknit with a shock of bliss. Her back straightened with a gasp. Her head cleared with a purring moan.
At last she could savor the banyans. The Lady of Gems must’ve made them grow together in a cascade of roots. Or maybe they were naturally so amazing. The branches reached too far, like the grasping tentacles of some monster. Roots dripped down from the underside of each branch, supporting its greed.
Celaise decided this night she would weave her dress out of roots. The lady would’ve never seen such a thing made beautiful. She might be impressed, and that’s what Celaise needed.
She spun her magic into woody vines and coiled them together into a marvel of a skirt. Root hairs brocaded into a bodice. Creepers curved around her back and jutted out in her collar. Roots flared from her chest. The True Dress was a reassuring coolness against her skin.
The root tendrils of her skirt dug into the ground and pulled her forward. She went to Jerani. He started awake then grinned. Her creepers twined around his wrists and pinned him to a banyan. She smothered him with kisses.
He fondled her. Her dress absorbed his awkward touches and turned them into practiced caresses, down her sides, over her breasts. Everything was more intense, more powerful, more real.
The delicate root hairs of her gloves
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