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Yet when you really got down to it, those things were arbitrary. Love and wealth passed with the wind. Likewise, power too was fleeting. Even the long-lasting youth of the strigaix and their fated mates ended with their deaths.
“Are you going to answer my question?” the Emerald Lady asked.
“I only want to play music,” I said, “but what you want?”
“What do I want?” She narrowed her eyes as if I had insulted her. “I want you to apologize to my blood slave.”
“I say before.” I smiled. “I have no words, only music.”
“Only music?” She laughed lightly, then it seemed to shake through her, in a stronger wave, and she held her stomach with both arms as she didn’t stop. Yet the more I listened, the more it felt like crying, until she really was crying on the floor, all façade of dignity lost.
I picked up my violin, resting on the table and played a tune. It was sunshine and rainbows and kindness and all the good feelings that couldn’t possibly exist on a planet without a sun. It had no name or reason. Yet I played until the skin on my fingers peeled and it hurt too much to continue.
When it was all over, the Emerald Lady asked, “This is your music?”
“This my music,” I said.
“I don’t hate it,” she said, wiping her smeared makeup. “I never really hated it, but I cannot forgive you unless justice has been given.”
“If not sorry, I can no apologize.” A proverbial lightbulb lit up in my head. “But I know pain and I know how to heal. Let me play for your blood slave.”
“There’s no guarantee she’ll accept an apology like that,” the Emerald Lady said.
“It no apology, only understanding.” I parsed through my vocabulary trying to find the right way to convey my words. “If she hate me, hate is her right.”
“Her right?”
I shrugged, gently putting down my violin, the blue ink of my cross tattoo implanting itself into my line of vision. “We no God, no have to love everyone.”
“We aren’t the gods, that’s true.” She smiled. “But justice is not something I can sacrifice. If she does not forgive you, what will you do?”
Instead of answering, I asked, “You know why people give to musicians money?” When a look of irritation crossed her face, I said, “Because music hard, not everyone make music.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“Yes. Since music hard, if blood slave say she no forgive, I owe you.”
Various emotions flickered through the Emerald Lady’s clear and dark features: annoyance and confusion melted away into understanding and clarity. “There has been something I’ve had trouble dealing with. If my blood slave rejects your performance, you will have to take care of it for me.”
I nodded.
“But if you fail this task, there will not be a third chance,” the Emerald Lady added in. “Do you still agree?”
“Yes, I agree.”
“Then, follow me.”
Just in case something happened, I carefully put away my violin and picked up its case. After, I called for Abbas and he followed behind me, humming a combination of scales and simple tunes.
We turned through a couple hallways until we were in front of a simple crystal door. A blood slave I didn’t recognize opened the door and the three of us entered.
I scanned the room, seeing the blood slave on a bed. She was sitting there smiling, not even a scar to her face. Other bloodsaves and her freewoman lover by her side. They spoke too fast and with some heavy accent or dialect for me to catch their words. Yet when the particular blood slave I was supposed to perform with met my eyes, all words ceased.
I decided that just as I would never hate the Emerald Lady, I would always hate this particular blood slave. Perhaps it was jealousy at all the things she had and I did not, or perhaps it was because it was easier to hate someone on the same level as you rather than your betters, but there would never be a day where I cared for her. She was so loved and surrounded by joy. In such an environment, there ought to be at least one person who hates you or the world just wouldn’t be fair anymore.
Ah, she wants me to grovel. To cry and to beg for forgiveness. I could have given her the best performance possible, but nothing would be enough.
Given such a conundrum, was there even a reason to play? It was a ridiculous question. There was always a reason to perform. Still, was it worth it to try if the end result was already determined?
