The Spoil of Zanuth-Karun by Jennifer Bresnick
S
erdaro Ashosu picked at the grass, plucking a few stalks from the soil and tearing them into pieces. There was dirt under his fingernails, which would annoy his mother, but not half as much as Daralya was annoying him at the moment. “I just don’t see why you won’t come with me,” he said peevishly, dropping the shreds and watching them twist away on the breeze. It was a beautiful midsummer day, and they were sitting at the top of the earthen embankment that surrounded Sayis, a popular spot for picnics and sunbathing. “Because Yarrin offered first,” Daralya said. “I told you that. You should have asked me sooner.” “I wasn’t here. That’s not fair.” Daralya shrugged. “That’s not my fault.” Serdaro made a little noise of frustration. The solstice festival was the biggest celebration of the year, and no one worth a brass farthing would dare attend alone. He had taken Daralya for three years running, which was quite a coup considering that she was the most sought–after girl of his acquaintance, and he was little more than tolerated by his peers.
The Eidarhta boys he knew had been raised to be wary of his people, with their private language, strange ways, and inexhaustible longevity, and they often took it upon themselves to test the claims of his heritage by pushing him down the stairs, throwing rocks and ice at him in the winter, or even slashing at him with bits of glass or pocket knives to see how quickly the wounds would disappear. Daralya never really stood up for him, of course, but neither did she take an active part in the teasing. It was better than being Llorani, she had said to him once, trying to comfort him as he nursed a black eye behind the merchant’s offices where he worked. It hadn’t been much consolation. From The Spoil of Zanuth-Karun by Jennifer Bresnick, www.jenniferbresnick.com. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved. UNBOUND
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