Page 107 of Moon Chosen

Dead Eye smiled, pleased that the People did not falter in their support for him, even though they did not share his vision.

“Because you are faithful, I will explain,” Dead Eye said. He turned to Thaddeus. “Tell me, Thaddeus, what would the Others do if they knew about your cracked, shedding skin?”

Thaddeus’s neck moved convulsively as he gulped the last of the water Dove’s Attendants had brought him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his shaking hand and met Dead Eye’s gaze over his Terrier’s head.

“I don’t know what the Tribe would do.”

“Oh, come now. You can do better than that,” Dead Eye said.

Thaddeus stared down at his canine. He drew a deep breath and when he looked up, his expression had completely changed—hardened—turned flat and angry. “They would isolate me. If they couldn’t cure me they would put me and Odysseus to death.”

Dead Eye nodded, satisfied. “Yes, because killing you would be what is best for the Others.”

“That’s how they would see it,” Thaddeus said.

“But that is not how I see it,” Dead Eye continued. “I do not believe you are sick. I believe you are changed, made better, and that once you understand exactly what you are becoming, you will shun any so-calledcure.But that will be your decision and yours alone. Now you are free to go—to keep your secret.”

“Why?” Thaddeus asked.

“Because the Reaper God commands it, and we do not question Her.” Dead Eye tossed his tunic to the bloody man, saying, “Return Thaddeus and his Odysseus to the river and their boat. Set them free.”

The People responded, surging onto the platform and helping Thaddeus to stand, then supporting him as they led him from the courtyard to begin the trek through the ruined heart of the City. He looked back only once, and that was to stare at the huge statue of the God as She loomed above them.

Dead Eye stroked a finger down Dove’s smooth cheek. “That was even simpler than I expected. What a fortuitous surprise to see that he was already infected. And now it has truly been set to motion.”

“It will be just as you said.” Dove took his hand, guiding it to her waist and stepping eagerly within his arms.

“Yes, he is already filled with anger just as surely as he has been filled with the infection of this tainted City. Thaddeus will sow dissension and destruction throughout the Others, and when his poisonous fruit finally ripens we will Harvest a new City, a new life, a new world!” Dead Eye bent and captured her lips with his, and then, in perfect accord, the two of them went into their Temple where, surrounded by Dove’s Assistants, they feasted and made merry.

31

Mari made her decision just after she woke. She was yawning and stretching and enjoying the warmth Rigel generated as he lay beside her on what used to be Leda’s pallet. She was thinking about the fact that she really,reallyneeded to do laundry, which wasn’t something she’d ever looked forward to, and thinking of washing her dirty clothes led to thinking about washing in general. As Mari stretched again and began to climb over Rigel her hair flopped into her face—her dirty, stinking, disgusting hair.

Mari lifted the matted hunk and tried to comb through it with her fingers. Then she noticed the dirt under her fingernails—and on her hands—and her arms. Of their own accord her grim-colored hands lifted to touch her face. It was dirty. She knew that. Much of the makeup had worn off, but out of habit Mari stood, ready to head to the pot of clay and reapply it to conceal her features. While she was at it she thought she’d better boil up some more dye for her hair. She didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that its true color was bleeding through the dirt and dye. Just the thought of spreading the vile mixture on her already stinking hair had Mari’s shoulders slumping. It made her want to crawl back into bed and sleep forever.

It would be so wonderful if I didn’t have to cover myself in clay and filth and dye.

Then Mari froze.

Why not quit all of the camouflaging? Why not just be herself?

Feeling the change within her, Rigel woke fully. He jumped off the pallet, stretched, and then padded to her, looking up with a funny, quizzical expression.

She grinned down at her Companion. “I covered how I look before because it was best for Mama and me. But Mom is gone. Sora’s going to be Moon Woman. That means I’ll never have to be accepted by the Clan—ever!” Rigel wagged his tail and barked in agreement. Mari poked her head out of the little room that had been her mother’s and peeked at Sora, who seemed to be sound asleep. She turned back to Rigel. “Okay, then that’s it. I’ve decided. No more dirt. No more dye. No more clay. I’m done pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Humming to herself Mari searched for clean clothes. Then she went to the pantry and pulled out an entire bulb of soaproot. While she was there she fingered the knives resting on their pantry shelf and chose the sharpest of them all. Then she set about feeding herself and Rigel while she daydreamed about what it would be like to have her own skin and her own hair showing, with nothing covered or hidden or dyed.

It would be glorious!

Her mind made up, Mari went into the main room of the burrow and bumped Sora’s leg—once, twice. The girl muttered and curled up in a ball, pulling her legs close to her. Mari sighed, went to the door, and retrieved her walking stick. Then, smiling mischievously, she poked Sora right in the butt.

Sora flailed her hand about as if trying to knock aside an insect, muttering, “Stop it.”

“I’m going out and you should probably come with me.”

Sora rolled over, peering through narrowed, sleepy eyes at her. “No. I should probably sleep. Go away.”

Mari almost grabbed the pelt Sora had cocooned herself in and pulled her off the pallet, but thought better of it.Just like Mama used to say—I need to use my brains before engaging my brawn.