Every Glistening Night

Chapter Forty-Two

I swallow the lump growing in my throat. I can't peel my eyes away from the woman standing before me. Her skin is pulled smooth over her knuckles, over long, straight fingers.

"How?" I ask.

A deep chuckle rumbles from Mother's belly. "How is it that you ignored me for so long? Or how is it that your invalid Mother is walking about?" She leans so close, I can smell fish on her breath. "Or how did I get tangled up with taking over your previous tribe?"

"Your hands," I say. I clench mine to keep from trembling.

"Ah yes," Mother says. She stands up straighter, no longer in face. I exhale from the mild relief it brings. "My hands. They are healed, aren't they? Honestly, I never imagined I'd be able to weave again." Her gaze turns hard once more. "Because you failed in your task to weave the last cloak of starlight, I had to try to pick up the slack. We got lucky, though. Before handling the starlight gown, neither my sister nor I knew what property starlight has. After my shaking hands started working with the thread, I found the my fingers were getting better — they were healing. It turns out that starlight can heal people from injuries."

My eyes widen. Mother sweeps her hand over the clearing of Anderwres.

"As you'll notice, not one of our warriors is injured. Not one is dead. That's because I've been healing every single one."

"If only we had discovered it sooner," Abarra says. "Then we wouldn't have needed you, Celisae."

The puzzle pieces in my brain sluggishly assemble. "You needed me to weave the dresses because Mother couldn't?"

"Exactly." Abarra turns to Mother. "You did a good job with that one."

"Not well enough," Mother murmurs. "Last I heard, she still revered her precious tribe and Matriarchs."

"Oh dear. We'll have to fix that," Abarra says. She squats down to eye level. "Do you know why your Mother's hands were crooked, messed up?"

I do know, but I'm too traumatized to respond.

"It's because the Matriarchs wanted to ensure that your mother never played the raeriel ever again. They thought that they could protect their power from being overthrown by smashing your mother's hands under a rock."

I wince at the thought. A smile spreads across Abarra's face. She stands to her full height. "See? Now she has the full picture." Mother wears a scowl and doesn't reply.

Abarra's right, I do have the full picture now. All these years, I struggled to reconcile this horrific thing that the matriarchs did to Mother with the kindness and patience many had toward me (excluding Ulane m'ke). Nal m'se always seemed a just ruler. Now, I finally see the justice in her punishment of my mother.

It wasn't just that she played a forbidden instrument. She tried to overthrow the tribe and take the mountain for herself, burning or freezing to death anyone in her path.

A scream echoes across the clearing. Five Anderwres warriors stalk from the matriarch's cave, with three matriarchs in tow.

"Ah, just in time," Abarra says. "Toss 'em by the fire pit."

Jeayma m'ke and Ulane m'ke grunt as they're shoved to the ground. Nal m'se doesn't make a sound, though her body lands with a thump.

"Enough talk," Abarra says. "It's time for you to decide."

"What?" my pained voice asks. I feel my brain shutting down, energy leeching to the air.

"Really, Celisae, I don't see why you're being so dramatic," Mother chides. I gaze up with blurry eyes. Mother's face is hazy, her features blending together.