The World Weavers by Kelley Grant Page B

minds are free to understand the way of the One.”
    She grabbed her bedroll and turned away, leaving Kadar to set up his own lonely roll with much to think about.
    In the morning she approached him, as he was about to mount his humpback.
    â€œIt is not right that you did not get to mourn your love,” Onyeka said. “We have a ceremony, releasing the dead. When we reach camp, we will honor her sacrifice and release her to the winds so your heart may be free.”
    She nodded firmly, and then turned to her own humpback. Kadar grinned. He seemed destined to be surrounded by determined women.
    They reached a large encampment late that day. The warriors in the camp gave a desert war whoop when the newcomers arrived, and Kadar’s group howled it back.
    There was much confusion and bustle as they dismounted. Supplies were quickly and efficiently unloaded from humpbacks and carried off. Kadar helplessly stood behind Onyeka as she and Turo spoke to a group of warriors, not understanding a word they were saying.
    A snarl and howl drew everyone’s attention. A warrior had wakened Amber while unloading Kadar’s humpback and she was annoyed to find herself surrounded by strangers. Kadar walked over, and she leapt from the humpback to his shoulder, arching her back against his ear and purring. She sat and let out a contented “murp.”
    Kadar turned to find all eyes on him.
    â€œSuma!” Turo exclaimed.
    â€œSuma!” the warriors roared, some brandishing weapons above their heads. Kadar was surrounded by warriors patting him on the back, as Amber hissed at the noise.
    â€œThey think you are good luck,” Onyeka said from beside him, and he turned to her.
    â€œAre you ever going to tell me what Suma means?” he complained.
    She grinned and grabbed his saddlebags, leading him to a tent. “They are having a ceremony of release tonight for the warriors we lost this ten-­day. We only recovered one of the bodies and will burn that one—­but we will burn remembrance for the other two. Do you have something you would like to let go of for the mother of your child?”
    Kadar hesitated and then nodded. He reached into a side pocket and pulled out a tattered sheet of parchment. He carefully unfolded it to show a color pencil drawing of a blond woman with startling blue eyes. Ava had created the drawing of her sister over a year ago. He’d tried to give it back to her, but she’d said she had others she preferred of Farrah.
    Onyeka studied it a moment. “Northerners have such strange eyes,” she said. “When I first saw eyes of such blue color, I thought it was because the man was blind. Are you certain you wish to let go of this?”
    Kadar nodded.
    â€œI will let you know when it is time.”
    The ceremony was similar to the one held for his mother when he was a child, but less elaborate. A close friend or child of the deceased lighted the oil and wood and named the deceased. One large pyre burned for the one body recovered, but several small fires were lighted for consuming belongings rather than bodies.
    Kadar looked down at the picture of Farrah, remembering the laughter they’d shared, remembering her fierce spirit. He sent a blessing out to her, wherever she was on the wheel of life and death and fed the picture to the fire. He joined the ululations as Farrah’s beautiful features turned to flame and ash, and Onyeka sat silently beside him.
    Â­People placed meat and other food items into the flames of the surrounding fires.
    â€œWhat are they doing?” he asked.
    â€œThey are making sacrifices to the One, giving her the best of their meals as a blessing,” Onyeka said. She looked at him. “They call those sacrifices suma .”
    Her face seemed serious in the flickering firelight.
    â€œ Suma means sacrifice?” he asked. “They think I’m a bit of meat to throw on the sacrificial fire?”
    â€œIt means