One tufted ear pricked up. “Really? An adult’s party?”
“I promise.”
Thodi hugged me tightly. I rested my chin on its head, chuckling softly. “Come on. Those supplies want purchase.”
“Okay!”
* * * *
The other eperu helped me roll the barrels from the general store to our caravans while the emodo supervised the transfer of goods. By late evening he stood with me and I counted into his hand the balance of our payment while Ledin watched. We marked our tokens and exchanged them, marked them again to record the transaction … and then Ledin and I turned to our wagons, half of them empty and the other half carrying our supplies.
“And that,” Ledin said, “is the beginning of our venture.”
I handed it the transaction token and chuckled. “May the Brightness, Void, and World bless us all.”
“But mostly the World,” Ledin said, grinning. It squeezed my shoulder, then padded into the purple dark.
Batasil’s caravan rolled into town the following day, bringing with it clouds of amber dust. I watched with Thodi from the vantage of Feda’s wagon, the one with the perch built above the frame. Feda had sacrificed the mobility of the sails built onto every wagon frame to have that perch, but it commanded a spectacular view. Thodi and I arranged the remaining sails to give us as much shade as possible, and sat there well over an hour while Batasil’s wagons crawled into town.
“They’re big,” Thodi muttered.
I nodded. Our wagons had been built to the standard trade size; only a few businesses made them. Batasil made its own rules, though. “Big and full of strange things. Maybe we can get it to show you some of its rarer goods.”
Both of Thodi’s ears perked. “That would be fun.”
I grinned and tickled its side. “After the party, though. We’ll leave tomorrow night, so maybe tomorrow in the afternoon.”
“Then I guess I’ll take a nap now,” Thodi said, and hugged me.
“Tired already?”
“I’ve been feeling a little sleepy lately,” it said, and at my expression added, “It’s the heat.”
The heat? It wasn’t so bad today. I shifted my tail in a shrug. “Of course. Make sure you’re awake after sun-down, though!”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” Thodi grinned, then clambered down from the perch. I heard its footsteps as it hopped off the bed of the wagon and padded away.
Some time later, I went to bathe and change into something more festive. I didn’t have much to choose from, but what I had would not embarrass the caravan. The tarnished silver and brown pebble chain I left around my waist—it was almost as old as I was, and had belonged to my sibling before her contract had been sold. I added a few matching strands of beads to my tail and mane, leaving the latter loose. I hooked a bronze and blue long-cloth at my hips with cord and silver chain, letting the panel of linen fall to my ankles and separating the hind-panel so it fell on either side of my tail.
Outside, the other eperu of Ledin’s caravan had gathered near our fire pit, talking, their best jewelry flashing in the orange firelight. Ledin among them all was loveliest: it had been anadi at birth, and then emodo before it had finally Turned eperu, and had kept the best of all the sexes.
“Bright night!” Ledin said, catching my elbows. “It is good to see you in finery.”
“You too,” I said, pushing aside one of its curls so I could see its face. It had accentuated the spirals on its cheeks with ground malachite. “We will show a good spirit to Batasil.”
“Ekanoi!”
I glanced back—one of the eperu, only half-dressed and wearing an expression of great perplexity, stood panting. “What is it?”
“Thodi is asking for you.”
It succeeded in passing its confusion to me. Frowning, I said, “It is in my caravan?”
The eperu nodded, and I strode that way. No light illuminated my wagon, and all its sails had been pulled flush to the frame; I could not see inside. I approached from the front, climbing over the driver’s bench. “Thodi?”
A tiny whimper answered me, and my ears flattened. Had it hurt itself? I took the lantern down from beside the bench and lit the wick, then slid into the wagon and held the light up.
Thodi was sitting on my trunk, knees curled to its chest, hugging itself and trembling. It showed no obvious signs of illness, and I stepped closer. “Ba Thodi?”
“Ekanoi,” Thodi whispered, and unfolded.
And I saw them … the tiny points of its—her breasts.
I sucked in a breath and hung the lantern from a hook on the ceiling frame. Sitting beside her, I said, “Oh, Thodi.”
“Does this mean … I’m going to be anadi?” she asked, chin trembling.
“Ssh, don’t weep,” I said, touching her jaw. “Thodi … I’m sorry. It means you already are anadi. Your body is just changing to fit that now.”
“But I don’t want to be female!” Thodi reached for my waist. “What will I do?”
“What all females do,” I said, ears splaying. “You’ll go to a good House, be pampered, fed choice foods, rest on pillows by cool pools of water—”
“And have babies until my mind dies and I get as stupid as a soup-beast!” Thodi wailed and began sobbing, nose wrinkling back from fangs that wept acrid tears.
I embraced her, trying not to cringe. “That doesn’t happen to all anadi….”
“Just most of them! Ekanoi, please … take me with you! I don’t want to go to a House and be a pampered anadi breeder. I want to trade, and explore and travel. I want to see new places! I want … I want to be eperu, not anadi!”
“You can’t argue with your body, Thodi,” I said. Gently I disengaged her arms and held her away from me. “You are anadi now. And as much as I want to, we can’t take you with us. You’ll die out there. Breeders are too fragile for traveling. That’s why only eperu trade.”
Yellow tears streaked Thodi’s lower chin. “Wh-what now?”
What indeed. I sighed and wiped the tears away with my thumbs. “Now … we talk to Ledin. It will know what to do.”
* * * *
Ledin looked once at Thodi, then said, “My wagon.”
We followed it, sat inside as it pulled all the sails to the frame and then entered, sitting on the trunk across from us.
“This was not in our plan,” I said, mouth quirking wryly.
Ledin chuckled. “No, it wasn’t.” It reached for Thodi’s hands and squeezed them. “This is your second Turning, isn’t it?”
Thodi nodded, despondent. Her mane fell in tumbled curls over her shoulders, hiding the evidence of her coming change.
“I told her we couldn’t take her with us,” I said.
Ledin shook its head, paint on its cheeks a-glitter. “No. We don’t know what’s out there. Even if we did, half a year’s journey would be too hard on an anadi.” It paused. “We will have to get you someplace you will be safe.”
“I don’t want to be safe,” Thodi said. “I want to be happy.”
“I’m sorry.” Ledin’s voice softened. “I cannot be responsible for you on such a trip. You would sicken, Thodi.”
“How do you know?” Thodi asked, ears flattening, voice almost a snarl. “No one ever lets the anadi out to see how long they last!”
Ledin leaned back. “I was anadi for a while.”
A white flush clouded Thodi’s ears and she looked away.
I touched her shoulder. “We only want to do what’s best for you. Letting you die is not part of that.”
Her small shoulders slumped. “What will you do with me?”
Ledin sighed. “I suppose I will ask Batasil to take you on its return circuit. Ask it to broker your contract for us, make sure you are released into an honorable and prosperous House. A place they’ll take good care of you.”
“If anyone can find you a good place to live, it’s Batasil,” I added.
Thodi let out a long breath. “I guess I don’t have a choice,” she said.
Ledin shook its head, and I remained silent.
“Sell me, then,” she said with a tremor in her voice, and walked out of the wagon.
I rose to follow her, but Ledin’s hand on my arm stayed me.
“Let her go. Her weepiness might be anadi frailty or just shock, but she’s been raised eperu. Let her have dignity.”
“Dignity for freedom—I call that a poor trade, Ledin,” I said, ears sloping back.
“I know,” Ledin said. “We’ll do all we can to provide for her.” It stood. “Come with me to talk to Batasil?”
I hesitated, then flicked my tail in a shrug. What else could I do for Thodi?
* * * *
So as our eperu mingled in the purple shadows and yellow light of Batasil’s caravan circle, Ledin and I sat in the lead wagon with cups of steaming tea. Batasil had insisted on pulling out great armfuls of plush pillows for our rumps, draping us with expensive silks “against the wind,” bringing out the nicest set of pottery it owned for our use. All so obviously out of its desire to share its wealth with us that I just couldn’t be angry … or even jealous.