Love in Color: Mythical Tales from Around the World, Retold(6)

Erinl? shrugged in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘How do crows know when an earthquake is about to happen?’

??un raised a brow. ‘So you sensed your destruction?’

Erinl? laughed, eyes glinting. ‘I sensed my world about to shift.’

??un’s heartbeat was steady at all times, but now it was frantic, hectic, at odds with the stillness surrounding them.

??un cleared her already clear throat. ‘So is this your power? Summoning people out of the world and meeting them in their own?’

Erinl? stepped closer to her. ‘It’s your power. You called me here. I am earth-born – my gifts were blessed to me. But I read that sometimes this can happen when two energies find something in one another that compels them to each other.’

‘And what about you should compel me?’ Aside from his smile, his warmth, and the fact that she felt herself unfurling around him. ‘I don’t need anybody.’

Erinl? laughed, and nodded, ‘I am aware. It’s not about need, but desire.’

??un swallowed. ‘What I desire is to know why a strange boy was staring at me from afar. I want to know what made him lose himself to be so bold as to look at ?àngó’s beloved so openly.’

Erinl? shrugged. ‘I didn’t lose myself, I found myself. Whether or not you are ?àngó’s beloved is of no consequence to me. You are not his possession. It’s a lie he believes to make himself feel better about himself. I wasn’t looking at ?àngó’s beloved, I was looking at you.’

??un held still for a moment and regarded him, feeling something swell within her. Something visceral, that pushed her to carry through with her inclination to allow a finger to sweep against the lines across his skin, transgressing the lines she drew for herself, rules that disallowed anyone to see her innermost desires. As she touched the scars left by a jealous beast, the long-healed and sealed gashes shimmered beneath her touch, glowing bright and amber.

Erinl? watched her, his eyes veered from playful to serious as he reached to tilt her chin so that her gaze met his, unabashedly, nakedly.

‘What do you want, ??un?’

??un opened her mouth but found that her words got stuck. Want. ??un hadn’t wanted in a long time. She was obliged to hone her gifts. Obliged to represent the academy. In many ways, she felt obliged to be with ?àngó, representing the highest of the high-born, but ??un couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her what she actually wanted. People sought to touch without acknowledging her desire to be caressed, to consume without realising her craving to just be held. They looked but never saw.

Erinl? looked at her intently, as if he was seeing her More. He smiled and it rippled sunlight through her.

‘??un, oh, ??un . . .’

??un froze. Was he singing? His mouth was moving, and he seemed to be starting a chorus with her name, beating the drum, looking her in the eye. The world rushed back into sharp focus, the sound flooding back into ??un’s ears with almost painful clarity, just in time for her to hear ?àngó’s conversation draw to a complete halt.

‘Did he just say your name?’ ?àngó’s voice was incredulous.

‘Yes. He did.’ Yem?ja responded smugly, on the opposite side of ??un, as ??un forced herself to quickly acclimatise to the world around her. Her conversation with Erinl? hadn’t been more than a split-second in the temporal sphere, but her whole body felt more alive than it ever had, everything around her seemed more vivid, clearer. ??un felt more of herself brought forth to the rooted realm. She felt more of herself in general.

Erinl?’s singing was a bold move. Nobody sang but The Tellers. To sing you had to be elected by them or appeal to them in front of an audience. Nobody sang directly to others unless they were friends teasing each other, friends congratulating each other, or if they were initiating courtship. It was more than being able to hold a note: one had to be able to draw song on the spot, it could not be pre-composed. It’s how you knew it was from the heart, and it had to be from the heart. ?àngó had never sung to her. ?àngó had never sung to anyone. He prided himself on never having to.

??un could hear ?àngó beginning to thunder next to her and she turned to him, allowed her eyes to be as fathomless as possible. ‘Be still.’

?àngó’s jaw tightened, but she felt the rolling of his thunder subside immediately. Whether he liked it or not, ??un had his heart in her palm. She scared him. The whole festival had now turned to pay attention to the spectacle, Erinl?’s small hooked cane beating an intricate, delicate tune that seemed to conjure up the image of ??un. It rolled like the gentle ebbs of a river, it sounded sweet and fierce and plush. Erinl? was walking slowly up to her, drum slung across his torso, gripped under his arm as tightly as his eyes gripped on to hers.

‘??un, may I borrow you,

I will kill a thousand lions for your dowry,

Scale mountains to pluck the stars for your wedding jewels,

Slap the clouds to make them cry so your rivers will always overflow.’

??un laughed. That was what she wanted to do. She wanted to laugh. To allow all the parts of her she tucked away to flow freely. To escape the trappings of expectation. To be. People gawped. No one had ever heard her laugh before. ?àngó had never heard her laugh before. It sounded like birdsong and the laps of a river. Erinl? was beckoning her, looking directly into her eyes. The timbre of his voice made her blood thrum and the hairs on her skin stand up. ??un suddenly felt lifted, as if she was swimming. The drumbeats felt like waves crashing against her skin, beckoning her as kin.