Silkpunk and Steam by Sarina Dorie

Author:Sarina Dorie [Dorie, Sarina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781548690830
Published: 2017-09-08T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

If you are close enough to see a tatsu’s smile, you are in trouble.

—Jomon proverb

“My decree?” I asked.

Grandmother Pirka placed her hand on mine. The black pattern up her arm contrasted with my own, only decorated with a simple black line. “Indeed, when a nipa is unable to make a decision due to personal bias, the duty falls on another council member, usually a close family member in his stead.”

“Am I not considered biased? I am the one who was attacked, ne?”

The grandmother’s tone was patient and matter-of-fact. “Yes, and that is why your vote counts doubly. We always consult the victim on his or her opinion. But as Nipa’s second, you are the one who must make the final decision.”

Shiromainu’s lips turned up in a knowing smile. He had known I would be given the final say. He might have felt better, but I didn’t.

Suddenly the air in the room felt so stuffy and overwhelming I couldn’t breathe. The eboshi I wore weighed heavy on me and it made it hard to focus. They waited. I swallowed. I couldn’t think.

“This is an important decision. Might I ask that the council to give me time to think it over?” Time that I might discuss the matter with Shiromainu.

“We will give you a few minutes to think upon the problem.” Shiromainu bowed his head. “If you wish to take a walk or meditate on the matter, we will remain here waiting until you finish.”

He wasn’t going to join me? That meant I had to do this alone.

I bowed and left. I removed the eboshi from my sweaty face as soon as I exited the room and hugged it to my chest. I ran down the corridor and passed people as I flew up the stairs. Someone called my name, but I didn’t answer. I only stopped to rest once inside Nipa’s private garden. The courtyard was outdoors and enclosed by stone walls to allow greater privacy. The path was lines with fruit trees and a small stream trickled under a section of stone fence. A statue of a tanuki guarded the door to an area sealed off from the outer courtyard. I wouldn’t have known the thick plants growing along the wall hid a door to Nipa’s private onsen, but my temporary husband had showed me days before. I threw back the wooden gate and entered the outdoor onsen.

The spicy fresh perfume of memory moss greeted me. Fingers of mist rose from the heated pool and reached toward me. At last I was alone. I gulped in the warm air, trying to calm myself. I choked and covered my face with my hands. I fell to my knees on the cushion of moss and cried.

I didn’t know how I could dig myself out of this mess.

Such a person as Petennouk was bad for all in the tribe. He couldn’t be trusted to behave appropriately or with respect. He endangered the peace of the community and instigated disloyalty to his nipa with his insults.

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