Author: Jodi Meadows

Before I could get more than a word out—“What?”—Sam began playing, and Stef swept me across the kitchen. For someone so lithe, she was strong.

“First thing,” Stef said over the piano, “is to relax. You’re doing this to have fun, not hurt yourself.”

The song was one I’d heard a recording of in Sam’s cabin, so when Stef said to step on the beat, I knew which one she meant. When she said twirl here, and demonstrated, I mimicked that too. Music filled the house, and the lightning-fast notes made me want to dance. I did everything Stef did, and when I did it incorrectly, she took my arms and placed them where they should be, or nudged my foot with hers.

When the first piece ended, Sam went right into the next. It was fast, too, but the beats came at different times from the first.

“Count,” Stef said. “One, two, three. No four. Not on this one.”

Connections snapped in my head, and when I tried to mimic her movements, my body obeyed. Hips, arms, legs. Step here, here, and here. Giddiness surged through me as we finished the dance and she called for him to do that one again.

“Do you remember it?” She grinned as the music began. “You can do this dance for any song with this beat. Simply adjust to the tempo. Ready?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, just started dancing, every motion fluid but precise. Hair whipped around as I followed her, flashes of blond and red in the corners of my vision. My body remembered what to do, how to move to this song. Our dresses flared as we spun and circled each other. It was hard to be angry or jealous like this. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.

When the music ended, I was sweaty and breathing hard, but smiling. Stef looked smug.

“Now what?” Sam peered in from the other room, his expression carefully blank as he watched us. “Another one?”

Stef glanced at me as she smoothed back her hair; she wasn’t even sweating. “I think that’s enough for today. I’ll come back tomorrow, so clear space in the parlor, because the kitchen is no place to dance. We’ll try a different one. Slower maybe. It’s a dedication of souls, you know. It won’t be all spinning around until you can’t stand up. Ana might find someone nice to dance with.”

“Hmm.” Sam returned to the kitchen, still not looking at me.

I took several deep breaths before sitting again, letting the dance-induced euphoria leak out. “What’s a dedication of souls?”

“Ah, leave it to Sam to forget to explain.” She kept up the charade, though I was certain we all knew she getting revenge for something. For what she’d walked in on earlier? “Some people believe souls were made as matching pairs. It can take time for them to realize or grow into their roles as lovers, but eventually the matches find each other. They dedicate their souls to each other for every life. And because everyone likes a party, they rededicate every time they’re reborn.”

“That’s really sweet.” I took a drink of my cold coffee, trying to imagine loving someone so much I’d want to spend thousands of years with them.

“Yes, some people think so.” She slid into the chair between Sam and me. “But the real fun of the rededication is the masquerade. See, the idea is that when you passionately love someone and feel like your souls are a matched pair, you should be able to find that soul, and love them, no matter what body they’re in. We all get told who’s who when they’re born, of course, so when it comes time for the rededication, everyone dresses up in costume.”

I nodded slowly. “Because you should be able to find your match when you can’t tell who you’re looking at.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re not supposed to tell anyone what you’re going as,” Sam said, “especially if you’re the ones dedicating. But people usually do. It’s embarrassing if you end up dancing with the wrong person by the end.”

“I’m sure.”

“At least you don’t have to wait through all the speeches if they get it wrong.” Stef grinned.

“Guess what Stef’s favorite part is,” Sam muttered. “But there’s more than just dancing and the two hunting around for their match. There’s—”

“Don’t spoil it for her, Dossam.” Stef waved his words into nothingness. “Everyone is invited. Let her see when she gets there.”

Well, I hadn’t been invited into the city. The Council could say no masquerade for me, and I’d be stuck inside while everyone else went to have fun. I bit my lip. “Have either of you had a ceremony of your own?”

“No,” they both said, and Stef continued, “It’s very rare, and most people aren’t even sure matching souls are real. But they like the party. There’s always lots of food and drinks, and it’s a wonderful excuse to dress up.”

“You both usually go?”

“Stef dances. I play music.”

I tried not to smile at the thought of Sam playing music. Like last night. “Were you going to come back from your cabin to play?”

“Depending on how much work I finished.” He shrugged, speaking mostly to the window. “There are lots of recordings they could have used. But since I’m here, maybe I’ll bring the big piano from the warehouse, or see if I can get Sarit, Whit, and some of the others to play with me. I know you won’t.” He nodded at Stef.

“Let them use the recordings.” Stef drank the last of her coffee. “Dress up and dance. You might have fun.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t like the idea of asking people to prove their eternal love for everyone else.”

“Do it for Ana. Don’t you want her to have fun?” There was a tone about her voice, not the same flirty teasing as before, that made me think she wasn’t really asking on my behalf.

If Sam noticed, he didn’t react. He studied me, and I studied my coffee cup, and after a minute he said again, “Maybe.”

“Well, Ana’s going to dance.” Stef beamed at me. “Story has it that when you meet your match, it’s usually at a dedication, because you’re not seeing what body someone is in. You’re drawn to their soul. Maybe someone’s been waiting for her.”

“Unlikely.” I forced a smile, trying to keep my tone pleasant. “It sounds like fun, but . . . just fun.”

Stef pouted, and Sam chuckled and said, “Ana is the most cynical person I’ve ever met.” Then, for an instant, things were right between us.

“But you’ll go?” she asked me, and I nodded. “Do you know how to sew? Everyone’s responsible for their own costumes, and you’re not supposed to tell anyone what it is, but if you need help, you let me know.”

“I know how to sew.” I’d spent enough time altering Li’s old clothes to fit me.

“Excellent. Well then, I’d better go. I’m sure you have a lot to do today. I heard about the incident in the guard station yesterday.”

“Yes,” Sam said, checking the time, “we need to take care of a few things at the Councilhouse.”

I stood, happy to have an excuse to go away. “I’d better change into something less sweaty.” After we’d said good-byes, and Stef promised—or threatened—to see me tomorrow for another dance lesson, I headed upstairs and stopped on the balcony when I heard Sam’s low voice.

“You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know the details when I recognize that look. I’ve seen it enough times.”

“That’s unfair.” His shoulders were slumped when I stretched to peer over the balcony rail, and I almost felt bad for him. Stef had to be the most formidable person I’d ever met, besides Li. “They made me her guardian. Neither of us wanted that, but there’s so much going on—”

“Figure it out, Dossam. I don’t want to see her like that again.” She squeezed his arm and left.

Chapter 12

Friends

SAM WAS QUIET when we left the house, probably still smarting from Stef’s jabs. There had to be something I could say to make him smile again. Not that I wanted to pretend nothing had happened in the kitchen, but aside from a tentative alliance with Stef, Sam was my only friend. I needed him.

The day was beginning to warm, but I was grateful for the sweater I’d found in my room; I pulled the sleeves over my hands to keep them from becoming chilled.

“Cold?” At least he wasn’t running this time.

“Not anymore.” We turned off the walkway and onto the street.

The city was a mess of roads and intersections, all wide and friendly, except there were no signs, no way for a stranger to tell where she was.

“There should be a faster way to get around,” I muttered. “I know there are vehicles somewhere. I saw them on one of Corin’s lists in the guard station.”

“We used to drive, but the reek of exhaust was unbelievable, and they tore up the roads. Maintenance was too expensive and annoying, and some people”—he coughed—“gained an unsightly amount of weight.”

I couldn’t imagine Sam anything other than tall and slender and young. “Vehicles couldn’t have been the only reason.”

“No, but they didn’t help. Eventually the Council decided to put them in storage. People too old or ill to walk can use them. People with children too young to make long trips were also allowed.”

Which meant Li had taken one when she fled the city in shame. “And there I was thinking I had never been in one.”

“May you never have to again. May you always be strong and healthy.” He took us down more streets, pausing to explain who lived where and how far from the Councilhouse we were. “Of course,” he said, motioning upward, “if you’re ever lost, you can find your way to the temple by cutting through yards. I don’t advise that if you can avoid it. There are few fences, but people appreciate privacy.”

I stopped in the middle of the street and tilted my head back, fists still balled in the sweater sleeves. The temple disappeared into the fluffy morning clouds. “What could be in there that takes up so much space?”

“Nothing. It’s empty.”

I jerked my head down and searched his eyes. “You’ve been in there? I thought there wasn’t a door.”

“There isn’t.” The line formed between his eyes again, and two around his mouth joined it. “I just know it’s empty. No one’s been inside, though.”

“That’s weird.” Like the way the white walls had heartbeats, and just looking at the temple made my stomach churn. “Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that?”

“I never thought about it before.” He glanced upward and scowled. “Not in five thousand years.”

I hated when he did that, reminded me how old he was.

We turned onto the avenue from yesterday, and Sam pointed out the different mills and factories in the industrial quarter. “The city is a circle, temple and Councilhouse in the center. Four avenues go in the cardinal directions to divide it into quarters. Southwest and northeast are residential, southeast is industrial, and northwest is agricultural. You can see the fish ponds from the market field, and the orchards beyond that, but I doubt you’d have fun exploring the grain fields.”

“I might.” I definitely wouldn’t, but I had to keep him guessing. “If I were looking for hints about who made Heart, that’s where I’d start.”

“Historians did start there, and found a few skeletons and artifacts, but no one has been able to tell where they came from.” He gave that funny half smile he did when I said things he didn’t expect. “Why do you think about the past so much?”

I shrugged. “Because I wasn’t there.”