Esther by Rebecca Kanner Page B

said, “You speak true.”
    Opi was not deceived. “Unlike you.” She tilted her head a little to one side, as if considering whether or not to continue. I tried not to appear eager. I feigned interest in my newly cleaned nails until finally she spoke again, this time more quietly than before. “My mother told me that Vashti disappeared before the soldiers came for her. No one could find her. The eunuchs and servants secretly searched, afraid that the king would kill them for not watching over her more carefully. When they could not find her they decided to tell the king she had gone to Chaldea.
    â€œMy mother was certain that Vashti never left the palace. She believed Vashti stayed here, so she could be near her son. After taking her own life.”
    I reached up to touch the Faravahar around my neck. When I found it was not there, still I did not drop my hand. “What part of the palace is your mother in?” I asked.
    â€œThe dakhma . Vashti or her spirit murdered my mother out of jealousy. She was found with no face. There were no cuts, no sign of injury. Yet she had no mouth, no nose, no eyes.”
    â€œYou saw her?”
    â€œI see her often, in dreams. She warns me to cover myself at night, so when Vashti’s spirit flies over the harem, she will not see the daughter of the servant whom the king loved.”
    â€œWhat do you cover yourself with?”
    â€œI curl my body into a fist and cover myself with a pillow.”
    â€œTonight you can put your head on top of a pillow instead. I will watch over you if you will watch over me tomorrow night.”
    Opi did not answer and I did not want to appear too desperate. I returned to my cushion to let her consider my offer. When my goblet was refilled with wine I did not object. I tipped it to my lips and thought suddenly of Erez holding the animal skin of water out to me and refusing to take it back until I had drunk from it.
    I continued to think of Erez through the morning. Thoughts of him, combined with the wine, were like tiny windows letting sunlight into a dungeon. The sounds of the harem—women laughing and talking, and underneath it whispering and crying—faded. I was once again seeing Erez’s dark eyes and then the chain bouncing against his neck as he rode away and then I myself was on the back of his horse with my arms wrapped around him.
    I was awakened from my daydreaming not by a noise but by a sudden silence. I raised my right hand in front of my face and caught a blade in my palm. The pain was so great that I thought it could not be real.
    Halannah let go of the blade, grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. Her other hand drew into a claw. I could see that her nails were filed into sharp points and that she was going to rake them over my face.
    I slammed my left fist into her stomach.
    She screamed and doubled over. The eunuchs surrounded her, all except one, who brought me more pain than Halannah had: he pulled the knife from my palm. Another pressed cotton to my skin to hold back the blood that was rushing toward the new opening.
    It seemed my childhood was leaving me through that cut, that Halannah had opened me to what I could become. I felt strong. Even with my eyes closed, I had somehow known my enemy was coming as clearly as if I had seen her. Though I was bleeding, she was the one hurt. I could hear it in her cries, which were jagged and high.
    I could be queen, I thought.
    â€œDo not touch me,” Halannah yelled at the eunuchs. “Xerxes cares nothing for this peasant, he cares only for me and I could make him hang all of you.”
    â€œYou do not make him do anything.” It was Hegai, and he had come without his she-beast. “You are not one of his advisers, you are not his mother, and you are not a woman he will make queen.” He turned to some servants and gestured at Halannah and me. “Tend these two,” he said irritably. “Do not spare our best wine. Go to the