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“But you told Kiva that he couldn’t see my vital responses during the ceremony?” I ask, taking the lenses and carefully inserting them.
“This is about your safety, not a science experiment.”
“Alright.” I shrug, amused by his attitude.
“After this is all over, can you promise me that you won’t put me through anything like this for at least… five passings? Strike that, ten passings?”
He means years. I roll my eyes.
“No, I’m not making promises about situations I can’t anticipate,” I tell him.
“You’re impossible.” He pouts at me.
“We’re both going to be fine,” I say. “Not just with this, but with everything.”
“We should’ve tested it last night,” he murmurs, playing with a strand of my hair between two fingers. “Then we’d know, and we wouldn’t have to —”
“I told you,” I say firmly, “that I want everyone to know I have the guts to walk in there, and if I burn, I burn. It’s a statement, whether I succeed or not. Don’t you see why that’s important?”
He inclines his head. “Yes, I understand. I have a few statements of my own to make before we do this.”
“What? To me?”
“No,” he says, looking grimly serious. “To them.”
The slightly insane light in his eyes worries me, but if anyone knows how to address the Kar’Kali people, it’s Mak. I press my eyes shut, letting them adjust to the contacts. When I open them, I’m ready to go, having steeled myself against the worst-case scenarios that today could bring.
I’ve survived more humiliation than what Annaka and her mother have to say about me, and I’ve survived much worse pain than a few burns could impart.
“Let’s get this over with,” Mak says, shedding the robe he was wearing. My eyes bulge at the miles of taut gray muscle he exposes me to, and he grins at my reaction.
“Wife,” he chides as he pulls back the tent flap, “Keep looking at me like that and you’ll be very deep in trouble.”
I step out, waiting for him to exit at my side. Up ahead, the crowd of spectators has gathered, their backs mostly turned to us. They are facing the Proving Pool, seated on sets of bleachers or milling about on the raised observation platform. The area is shaped in a semi-circle around the edge of the pool where Mak and I will enter. The stepped platform was made to accommodate many more viewers than we’ve brought with us, suggesting how much attention was given to these events in the planet’s distant past.
We must make our way down the center aisle of the stepped platform to reach the pool, so I stick close to Mak and let him lead the way.
Mak will be entering the pool nearly naked, and he wears only a speedo-sized covering that leaves nothing to the imagination. In moments like this, I understand with perfect clarity why Annaka would risk it all like she did. His blue curls have been swept up to the top of his head, decorated with tiny bands of silver and glittering beads. He might be on the shorter side compared to other Kar’Kali males, but his aura still makes him the most imposing figure among the crowd as we part a path to descend the low stone steps.
He rests a light hand on my lower back, pressing me forward while nodding greetings to those we brush by.
The space around the pool has been roped off for safety. When we first arrived the other day, a stupidly brave warrior had thought it’d be amusing to touch the water “just in case it’s me that’s meant to rule.” He’d meant it as a joke, but he’d ended up with third-degree burns on two of his fingers.
Mak had asked me about going to the pool without anyone watching, so that we might see the results for ourselves. I refused, knowing I would feel much differently today armed with the knowledge that I was bound to fail the ceremony.
Not knowing what will happen to me feels oddly freeing for once.
I watch Mak greet some of the people in the crowd, and I tentatively try to follow suit. He’s a natural at such things, a true politician that way. And even though I’ve left my gloves behind, I feel brave enough to accept touches here and there, even as Mak darts a concerned look my way.
A young girl reaches out to touch my dress and say hello to me.
Mak’s eyes seem to ask if I’m alright, so I nod back.
When we finally leave the crowd and find ourselves facing the wide mouth of the Proving Pool, the ceremony begins. Councilwoman Kannita is waiting there, ready to command the audience to silence and introduce the programming.
We’re treated to a traditional Kar’Kali dance choreographed to music with a more lighthearted rhythm than we previously heard. The dances involve swaying and leaping with participants of every age and gender, and they’ve donned gauzy teal skirts with vests adorned by jingling metalwork that catches the light amidst the billowing steam clouds that drift off the pools and block the sun as they rise away.
When the dance performance has ended, the crowd cheers and stomps. At first, I’m the only one clapping my hands together, but some other the audience tries it and joins in with my human display of celebration. As much as I would’ve liked being unimpressed by anything Kannita organized, the dance was so beautiful that it slightly washed my nerves away.
