Velar Tidemark's Arc

Chapter 15 of 6

The leviathan was butchered and the meat carried home. Now Velar stood at the edge of the terraced amphitheater, the black basalt rings glowing with runes, and realized he had no proper clothes to be joined in. The Glowflight Festival was two cycles away. Everyone said the festival was the right time to join two hands. Veska stood beside him with her arms crossed. "We can't stand on the dais in fishing gear," she said. "Our clothes smell of leviathan." Velar had spent twelve cycles chasing one fish. He had not once thought about what he would wear to his own joining. "I don't know anyone who makes clothes," he said. Veska did. "Ike Frostthread," she said. She had worked his trap lines once for a frostnut shaft. "He turns pelts into coats. He made the seer's robe." They crossed to the forest edge and found Ike at his drying frames. He was scraping a frostglider pelt with a bone blade, fast and even, not looking up. Pale fur hung in rows behind him. "Another trade," he said when he saw Velar. His hands kept moving. "Everyone wants something before the festival. What is it this time?" "Joining clothes," Veska said. "For both of us. Two cycles." Ike stopped scraping. He looked at them a long moment, then at the pelts on the frame. "Two cycles is nothing. You know how long a proper robe takes?" He set the blade down. "But you." He pointed the bone at Veska. "You already owe me nothing. And you." He pointed at Velar. "You fed the whole village. Fine. Fish. Two moons' worth, once the famine breaks. That's my price." "Done," Velar said. Ike worked them both over with his hands, measuring their arms and shoulders by feel, muttering about frostglider softness and dusksnarl trim. He pulled pelts from the frame and held them to the light. "This gray for you," he told Velar. "Pale for her. You'll glow bright enough on the dais without me making it worse." He worked both cycles without rest. When he was done he carried the two garments to the amphitheater himself. The joining robe for Veska shimmered pale silver. The vest for Velar was soft gray trimmed in dark fur. They fit. Sylara Helion waited on the low white dais, horned skull-mask turned toward them, the ceremonial book in her hand. Behind her the geothermal arch framed the great planet in the sky, and the hearth threw warm steam across the stone. Sylara's voice was flat and plain. "You stand before the Helium Mother to join two hands." She did not waste words. "Then join them." Velar took Veska's hand on the glowing dais. The village filled the frostbuck seats around them. The joining was done. They were married now, dressed properly, witnessed by the seer. And ahead of Velar lay the brightest frost tide of all, when the largest fish run would rise.