Shadowkill

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Standing at the back of the crowd among the children, Shadith shifted from foot to foot, scratched at her arm. She was here because Tinoopa turned maternal and dogmatic and dragged her along. Don’t be an idiot, Tinoopa said, you need their good will and you know it. Show your face and behave yourself, child.

She watched as the rite went on and on, thinking:

Poor baby, he’s going to catch pneumonia if they don’t wrap something around him. No wonder boy babies had a hard time surviving. Jerks. Matja Allina isn’t even on the Hill. Wouldn’t you know. Come on, come on. Get that poor baby back where he belongs, let me get back where I belong. Old bastard, I have to admit he’s impressive, times like this. Should keep him in a closet and just take him out when it’s time to chant something.

The Amur-speaker spread scented oil over the baby’s body. Shadith wiggled her left bootheel on a dirtclod, crushing it.

Pirs. He’s riding high right now. Daddy’s spreading it thick, almost cooing at him (old warthog, wonder what he wants?). He’s got his boy, the Brushies are friendly, and there haven’t been raids for the past eleven weeks. Enough to make any amnesiac happy. Well, we get our papers out of this. Signed and locked away. Lovely. So generous the man is, as long as it doesn’t cost him anything.

Last night Pirs called her and Tinoopa into the study. He showed them their contracts and the cancellation papers. As they watched, he signed his name, stamped his seal on cancels. I wanted you to see this, he said, in six months your year will be completed. We will honor our promise as you have honored yours, to the limit of our ability. He folded the documents together, laid his hands on them, and waited for them to leave.

Arring Feelgood, dispensing favors to his chosen, favors with a call-date half a year off. Locked up somewhere in that study. Hmmmm.

Mingas was up there on the Hill, standing behind his father. It was the first time Shadith had seen him, and she didn’t much like what she was seeing.

Runt. Ugly pup.

In a way he was very like his spectacularly handsome kin, but his individual features were larger, their contours more rounded; he was a head shorter and considerably bulkier. It wasn’t fat, he was rock hard, but he looked clumsy, pudgy.

Odd what a thin line it is between beauty and ugliness.

She reached, touched him, shied away almost immediately. It was like touching acid. Behind that bland, immobile face, hate and rage were bubbling, boiling… Her mouth twitched.

Stick a pin in him and lolly save the ashes. Sar!

Pirs took the baby down to Allina, helped her wrap him in his blankets.

On the hill, the Speaker blew into his horn, signaling the end of the ceremony. The chal and chapa went back inside the walls and the party began.