“Or, a Ghaibmin, like me?” Labiba squeals. “We're a rare type from the blue pantheon. I bet you've never seen a trick like this one.” She twirls her arms in front of her, and her fingertips emit a blue glow. Shay isn't sure what the touched one is doing until the outline of her body blurs.
Shay's breathing stills. Labiba's form grows lighter and lighter until the crowd becomes visible behind her. For a beaker, she disappears, long enough for Shay to glance around, making sure she hasn't hidden herself behind a vendor's cart or passerby. Labiba reappears just as gradually, transparent at first and growing solid bit by bit.
“That's amazing.” Shay turns wide-eyed to Khawla, but the rebel girl seems unimpressed. On any other night, such a public display would surely cause a scene, but on Jou Boulka, no one blinks an eye.
The woman shrugs one shoulder. “I get that a lot.”
“I'd like to see you roast a chicken,” her companion scoffs.
“I can't.” The woman shakes her head, the heavy jaw of her mask jiggling. “But I can steal one right out of the coup.”
“True.” Arbia brings the bottle of Snow closer to Shay and twists it in her fingers.
The amber liquid inside glistens. Shay imagines what she could do if her animal bond multiplied, what great hordes she could summon, what wild beasts she could tame. Though, in all honesty, she'd be content to just hear the animals around her more clearly. To understand her own gift better.
She doesn't realize she's wrapped her fingers around the bottle until she hears Khawla's soft gasp beside her. Arbia smiles at Shay, her too-red lips curving up from either side of her beak.
A sudden clatter, and something cold splashes around Shay's ankles.
“What in the devil's armpit is going on?” Shadi stands there, a muscle razoring along his jaw. Glass shards gleam amid a foaming puddle of fizzylemon drink spilled across the cobblestones. He snatches the bottle from Shay's hand and shoves it back toward Arbia. “Take this before I smash it on the street next.”
The women promptly depart, presumably seeking some other young girls to corrupt. Shadi ushers Shay away from the broken glass, and then he rounds on Khawla. “What would have happened if I hadn't shown up?”
Khawla drops her gaze for only a moment. When she lifts her head, her eyes glint iron and fire. “I make it a practice not to determine other people's choices for them.”
“Shay obviously isn't in the proper frame of mind to do so.” Shadi runs an exasperated hand over his face and points a finger at her. “Of anyone, you should know that.”
“Shay is standing right here.” Shay's voice comes out more level than she feels. The strength of it grounds her in the present, bringing her fully into her body.
Shadi swallows. He pinches the bridge of his nose and slowly meets Shay's eyes with an unflinching gaze. “I won't apologize for stopping you.”
Shay breathes in deep. The truth is, she's grateful. Her whole life might be different if someone had stepped in the first time Hind used. “No, I'm glad you did.”
He nods, then narrows his eyes toward Khawla, who shrugs.
“I'm sorry,” Shay says. The spirit of the night has been soured, and it's her fault. She covers her face, paint smearing beneath her fingertips—one more thing she's ruined. “I'm not comfortable here, honestly. I think perhaps festivals aren't suited to my tastes.”
“Understandable,” Khawla says, as they watch an inebriated man strut up to a nearby donkey. He loudly declares it to be the prettiest woman he's seen all night and proceeds to invite the beast to accompany him home. The trio breaks into laughter, and between their explosive bursts, Khawla tells Shadi, “I actually have something of importance to discuss. Can we move this to a more private location?”
Shadi grins, his eyes thoughtful. “I know just the place.”
“Alright, but no breaking in or trespassing now,” Khawla warns. “Shay needs to avoid drawing attention.”
“When have I ever engaged in such reprobate behavior?” Shadi asks incredulously. He quickly amends, “Don't answer that. Just trust me. You're going to love this. Both of you.”
The girls follow him away from the festivities to a quiet hilly area that borders the forest. Shay is beginning to think Shadi oversold the location, when from behind the scrubby ledge of a plateau, the toothless gap of a cave mouth appears. It's not so large that she would have noticed it on her own, and the dark cleft of its opening doesn't exactly welcome solo exploration.
“Khwati.” Shadi bows toward the entrance. “Welcome to the best-kept secret in Nezjar.”
They duck inside an obsidian abyss. A long tunnel stretches ahead, and the only light comes in the form of a strange flickering at the end of it. The closer they move toward the light, the brighter it glows. Ribbons of red, blue, silver, and green dance along the curving walls.
The tunnel leads to an archway so narrow, they must squeeze through it one at a time. Shadi goes first. Shay steps next onto a ledge, pressing close to him to leave room for Khawla to come through last.
A wide, open cavern unfolds before them in a panorama of radiant color. Glowing stalactites drip from the ceiling like melted jewels, reflecting off one another to kaleidoscopic effect. From deep below, four towering stalagmites rise, adding an infinite layer to the brilliance. One pillar is silver, the others blue, and red, and green.
Shadi sits on the ledge and lets his legs hang. Shay sits in the middle, Khawla beside her. Wresting her eyes from the display, Shay peeks at her companions, their peaceful faces flashing in a sequence of changing lights. For their musical enjoyment, drops of water plink like wind bells in the rain.
Shadi catches Shay staring, which should be awkward but somehow isn't. “I'm telling you. It never gets old.”
