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Chapter 85. The Ice Tribe (II)

She’d been waiting outside her tent since before dawn, watching the sun creep up the horizon and the stale, dull snows come to life, flush with ruddy morning light.

* She’d been woken up that morning by this sick gnawing feeling in her chest, and it helped standing out here, letting herself feel a part of this cold vastness. That was what she ought to be, she felt—huge and cold, and when her feelings burst up in her like little fires they’d die right then and there. Instead she so often felt like she was thrown overboard and her feelings were high, stormy seas. She wondered how Jin did it, or how Father did it—if it was just something they were born with. That wasn’t fair, was it?

“Ready?” said Livia, smiling brightly. “My Mother’s eager to meet you.”

“Um. First, can I borrow a raven? Please?” said Ruyi. It’d been troubling her all night. After the burst of joy went away, she felt guilty for feeling so happy. For just a few hours she’d let herself be sucked into the texts. How could she?

“What for?” said Livia.

“My brother—I should write him, and my Mother, and… a few others,” she said.

Livia considered her. “I see… have you thought this through?” The girl frowned at Ruyi, the X-shaped scar on her face drooping at the edges where it split her lips. “Is that safe for them?”

“Safe for…” Ruyi started. She hadn’t even thought about that. Then it struck her how selfish she was—she was so caught up in herself, and how much she missed them, she hadn’t even…she drooped. “Oh.”

“Perhaps it’s best you don’t. They’ll be safe, I’m sure,” said Livia, patting her on the shoulder. “If you’d like, I can have scouts keep an ear out for news of them.”

“Alright…”

“Here.” Livia took her by the hand, gently, like everything she did. “You look tired. You could do with some food in you. Does that sound good?”

Ruyi nodded, feeling fragile, and off they went.

***

She heard the feasting grounds before she saw it. There were several scattered about the camp, Livia said—it was a camp of nearly ten thousand, after all. But this one was at the heart of camp, in the innermost circle, where all the important demons were. The streets were mostly empty here—some cooks and shamans and young ones scurried about. All the inhabitants were breakfasting, and with gusto, by the sounds of it. She heard laughter, heard a great mass of voices, but no tinkling of silverware like she was used to.

The tents in the inner circle were much like the tents in the outer ones, just bigger and painted with strange designs. Family crests, Livia said. They circled a clearing with four long tables. Each was piled over with Demon Kings.

Ruyi was known as a messy eater. Mother would sigh at her, Jin would fuss over her when she ate meat straight out of her hands. But these demons made her look like she had Tingting’s table manners. There wasn’t a plate in sight, not a fork or knife or chopstick! They cut up slabs of meat with their claws, ate others strung up on icicles. When their hands got greasy they plunged them into the snow, melted it off, and kept on eating. They got blood all over their face, and they laughed about it. They ate like Ruyi would if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“It’s beautiful,” whispered Ruyi.

“The meats?” Livia looked genuinely baffled.

“It’s…I—never mind.”

They stood there watching for a little while.

“What are we doing?”

“Waiting,” said Livia. “We’re late, so Mother must invite us to the feast.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Mother?”

Livia gestured vaguely at the farthest table, and Ruyi instantly saw who she was referring to. Livia’s Mother was the kind of person who drew the eye. Drusila was beautiful, but not in the way Tingting was beautiful, or Sen was beautiful; Drusila was so beautiful she didn’t seem real. Ruyi couldn’t pick out a flaw in her face if she tried. She looked sculpted out of marble; she was well-made head-to-toe; tall, rippling with lean pretty muscles.

Was this what Livia had looked like? Ruyi had felt bad for the girl, but never like she did now.

Then Drusila noticed them. The weight of her gaze made Ruyi flinch. Demon eyes were all red, but they came in varying shades. Drusila’s eyes were bright as rubies.

“Ruyi!” she called. Her voice was high, so clear it was like a musical note. It cut through the mess. The lot of them fell silent. She saw the faces turn to her—on one table faces streaked blue, Warriors, on another faces with Shamans’ blue curls, a third for the bald Lorekeepers—she saw Tyrus at the far end. He smiled at her, nodded. It made the pounding of her heart seem a little less loud. The auras pouring out of them were incredible—she’d never seen such a strong gathering… they were all staring at her. But not angrily, as she feared. Their expressions were mostly curious. A few even smiled at her.

“Come,” said Drusila, smiling. She kind of looked like Ruyi’s Mother when she smiled. She gestured to a spot on the bench next to her.

Ruyi walked, trying not to let her nervousness show on her face, passing through the crowd of stares, ending at the seat, and, at Drusila’s nod, she wiggled herself on. Livia followed, sandwiching Ruyi between them.

The chattering tentatively started up again, though an awful lot of them seemed to be looking at Ruyi. Ruyi tried not to think about them.

“Do you like frost drake flesh?” said Drusila.

“I don’t know… I never tried it,” said Ruyi. She was surprised to find her voice still worked. The woman wasn’t even blasting her aura, but just being close to her made Ruyi feel a little faint.

“Hmm,” said Drusila, and handed her a stick strung up with slabs of bleeding meat. “Here. Eat.”

Ruyi obeyed without thinking. She just took it and started nibbling at it. The first few bites were a little salty—she wasn’t used to so much blood in the meat—but by the time she gulped down a slab, she found herself enjoying it.

“How are you liking the tribe?” said Drusila.

“Yeah!” said Ruyi enthusiastically. Then she realized she’d misheard—Drusila had asked how. “I mean—a lot, I like it a lot,” she said, flushing. “Everyone’s so nice to me.”

Drusila hummed. Her gaze made Ruyi shift in her seat. She was somehow more beautiful up close; it felt like Ruyi was breathing air at the top of a very high mountain. She considered Ruyi for a full breath before she said, “You don’t feel you deserve this.”

“Um,” said Ruyi. “I mean—”

Drusila put her hand on Ruyi’s shoulder, and Ruyi flinched. She looked in Ruyi’s eyes.

“No, no. We cannot have this. You are strong, and you are talented, and you are of great worth. You must understand this—you must know this in your soul. You should expect kindness; if not from others, at least from yourself. We have made such an effort to court you because we see who you are, Ruyi Yang. Chin up.”

“Oh,” squeaked Ruyi.

Drusila pulled back and Ruyi could breathe again.

“Never belittle yourself. It is pathetic. We don’t respect that here.”

“Okay,” said Ruyi.

“Now,” said Drusila, casually biting off a slab of meat like she hadn’t just changed Ruyi’s life, “What do you want in life?”

“Uh,” said Ruyi. She was still reeling. “Uh.” What?!

“You don’t know?” Drusila frowned—Ruyi had disappointed her! Ruyi felt a sudden flash of panic. She wanted to throw herself on her knees and apologize, ask for a second chance, but she got the feeling Drusila wouldn’t like that.

“I… that’s, um.” Why couldn’t she say something? Was she stupid? Something was better than nothing. What was the right answer? What did Drusila want to hear? Drusila must think her so stupid now; maybe Drusila would take everything she said back. Ruyi wanted to crawl in a hole and die. What she really wanted right now was to make Drusila like her; it was incredible how quickly it had become important to Ruyi. But she couldn’t say that.

“One should always know what one wants,” said Drusila.

“I want to go home!” Ruyi blurted.

Drusila considered her again. “Hmm,” she said. Did she know how hard it was to sit there under her gaze? She nodded. “Thank you. Your honesty is a gift. I shall repay you. What I want is the power to protect my family. And every demon in this tribe is my family, bound by blood or oath. But I fear I cannot. Our enemies are numerous, and they are gathering fast. I have broken a pact… in our world, that is heretical. I—we—have no friends but ourselves. You are strong, and learned in the ways of Alchemy. Perhaps we can give each other what we want.”

“But… this can’t be my home,” said Ruyi. “I have a home.”

Drusila raised a brow. “Do you?”

Ruyi was quiet, staring at the ground. “You’ll never replace them,” she said finally.

“No,” said Drusila. She touched Ruyi on the shoulder, held her surprisingly tenderly. “Never. But we do not live in the past—we live in the present. They shall always stay with you, in heart and in song, and in you they live a second life. It is that way with our ancestors too. We remember them with great love… but in the end we remember. The past is dead. Are you ready to come back to life?”

She didn’t say it like a challenge—she said it like a genuine question.