Anaya lay down on the rock ledge, pillowing her head with one arm. Eyes closed, she appeared to sleep. Kith-Kanan stood up and meant to slip around the far side of the pool in order to surprise her. But the hill was steep, and the vines were green enough to be slippery when his sandals crushed them. That Kith-Kanan was watching Anaya, not his footing, made the going even more treacherous. He took two steps and fell, sliding feet first down the hill into the pool.
He surfaced, choking and spitting. Anaya hadn’t moved, but she said, “You go to a lot of trouble just to see me bathe.”
“I—” the prince sneezed violently “—heard someone in the spring and came to investigate. I didn’t know it was you.” Despite the weight of his clothes and sword, he swam in long strokes to the ledge where she lay. Anaya made no move to cover herself, but merely moved over to give him room to sit on the rock.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Only my pride hurts.” He stood up, averting his eyes from her. “I’m sorry I intruded, I’ll go.”
“Go or stay. It doesn’t matter to me.” When he hesitated, Anaya added, “I am not modest in the fashion of your city females.”
“Yet you wear clothes,” he felt obliged to say. Uncomfortable as he was with her nudity, he felt strangely unwilling to leave her.
“A deerskin tunic is good protection from thorns.” Anaya watched Kith-Kanan with some amusement as his gaze flickered over her and away for a third time. “It bothers you. Give me your tunic.” He protested, but she insisted, so he removed his wet tunic.
She pulled it over her head. The tunic covered her to her knees. “Is that better?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I can’t get over how different you look,” he said. “Without lines painted on your face, I mean.” It was true. Her hazel eyes were large and darker than his twin’s. She had a small, full-lipped mouth and a high forehead.
As if in response, Anaya stretched lazily, like a big cat. She put more into, and seemed to get more out of, a simple stretch than anyone Kith-Kanan had ever seen. “Don’t the women of your race adorn themselves?” she inquired.
“Well, yes, but not to the point of disguising themselves,” he said earnestly. “I like your face. Seems a pity to cover it.”
Anaya sat up and looked at him curiously. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s true,” he said simply.
She shook herself. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“I hope you’re not angry with me any more for teaching Mackeli how to fight,” he said, hoping to draw the conversation out a little longer. He was enjoying talking with her.
She shrugged. “My injury made me short-tempered. I wasn’t angry with you.” She gazed out at the clear water. After a moment, she said slowly, “I am glad Mackeli has a friend.”
He smiled and reached a hand out to touch her arm. “You have a friend, too, you know.”
Quickly Anaya rolled to her feet and pulled his tunic off. Dropping it, she dove into the pool. She stayed under so long that Kith-Kanan began to worry. He was about to dive in after her when Mackeli appeared on the other side of the pool, his bag bursting with chestnuts.
“Hello, Kith! Why are you all wet?”
“Anaya went in the water and hasn’t come back up!”
Mackeli heaved the heavy sack to the ground. “Don’t worry,” he said. “She’s gone to her cave.” Kith-Kanan looked at him blankly. “There’s a tunnel in the pool that connects to a cave. She goes down there when she’s upset about something. Did you two have words?”
“Not exactly,” Kith-Kanan said, staring at the water’s surface. “I just told her I liked her face and that I was her friend.”
Mackeli scratched his cheek skeptically. “Well, there’s no use waiting there. She may not come up for days!” He hoisted the sack onto his narrow shoulder and added, “The cave is Ny’s secret place. We can’t get in.”
Kith-Kanan picked up his tunic and circled around the pool to where Mackeli stood. They walked up the path to the clearing. Every third step or so, Kith-Kanan looked back at the quiet spring. The forest woman was so difficult to understand. He kept hoping she would reappear, but she didn’t.
The sun set, and Mackeli and Kith-Kanan roasted chestnuts in the fire. When they were full, they lay on their backs in the grass and watched a fall of stars in the sky. The stars trailed fiery red tails across the black night, and Kith-Kanan marveled at the beauty of the sight. Living indoors in Silvanost, Kith-Kanan had seen only a few such falls. As the elf prince stared into the sky, a gentle wind tickled the branches of the trees and ruffled his hair.
Kith-Kanan sat up to get another handful of chestnuts. He saw Anaya sitting crosslegged by the fire and almost jumped out of his skin.
“What are you playing at?” he asked, irritated at being so startled.
“I came to share your fire.”
Mackeli sat up and poked a few roasted nuts from the ashes with a stick. Though they were hot, Anaya casually picked one up and peeled the red husk from the nut meat.
“Your task is long done, Kith,” she said in a low voice. “Why haven’t you returned to Silvanost?”
He chewed a chestnut. “I have no life there,” he said truthfully.
Anaya’s dark eyes looked out from her newly painted face. “Why not? Any disgrace you committed can be forgiven,” she said.
“I committed no disgrace!” he said with heat.
“Then go home. You do not belong here.” Anaya rose and backed away from the fire. Her eyes glowed in the firelight until she turned away.
Mackeli gaped. “Ny has never acted so strangely. Something is troubling her,” he said as he jumped to his feet. “I’ll ask.”
“No.” The single word froze Mackeli in his tracks. “Leave her alone. When she finds the answer, she’ll tell us.”
Mackeli sat down again. They looked into the red coals in silence for a while, then Mackeli said, “Why do you stay, Kith?”
“Not you, too!”
“Your life in the City of Towers was full of wonderful things. Why did you leave? Why do you stay here?”
“There’s nowhere else I want to go right now, and I’ve made friends here, or at least one friend.” He smiled at Mackeli. “As for why I left.” Kith-Kanan rubbed his hands together as if they were cold. “Once I was in love with a beautiful maiden, in Silvanost. She had wit and spirit, and I believed she loved me. Then it came time for my brother, Sithas, to marry. His wife was chosen for him by our father, the Speaker of the Stars. Of all the suitable maidens in the city, my father chose the one I loved to be my brother’s bride.” He pulled his dagger and drove it to the hilt in the dirt. “And she married him willingly!
She was glad to do it!”
“I don’t understand,” admitted Mackeli.
“Neither do I. Hermathya—” Kith-Kanan closed his eyes, seeing her in his mind and savoring the feel of her name on his lips “—seemed to love the idea of being the next speaker’s wife more than being married to one who loved her. So, I left home. I do not expect to see Silvanost again.”
The elf boy looked at Kith-Kanan, whose head hung down. The prince still gripped his dagger hilt tightly. Mackeli cleared his throat and said sincerely, “I hope you stay, Kith. Ny could never have taught me the things you have. She never told me the kind of stories you tell. She’s never seen the great cities, or the warriors and nobles and priests.”
Kith-Kanan had raised his head. “I try not to think beyond today, Keli. For now, the peace of this place suits me. Strange, after being used to all the comforts and extravagances of royal birth…” His voice trailed off.