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Book Three: The Prophet
everything....”
“Wedidn’tknow,”Harahmurmured.“WhenwegaveyourmothertheWatertochange,wedidn’tknowyouexistedwithinher.”
“Don’tbesadaboutit,Harah,”Aliasaid.“Ishouldn’tfeelsorryformyself.
Afterall,there’scauseforhappinesshere:I’maReverendMother.ThetribehastwoRev....”
Shebrokeoff,tippingherheadtolisten.
Harahrockedbackonherheelsagainstthesittingcushion,staredatAlia,bringingherattentionthenuptoJessica’sface.
“Didn’tyoususpect?”Jessicaasked.
“Sh-h-h-h,”Aliasaid.
Adistantrhythmicchantingcametothemthroughthehangingsthatseparatedthemfromthesietchcorridors.Itgrewlouder,carryingdistinctsoundsnow:“Ya!Ya!Yawm!Ya!Ya!Yawm!Muzein,wallah!Ya!Ya!Yawm!Muzein,Wallah!”
Thechanterspassedtheouterentrance,andtheirvoicesboomedthroughtotheinnerapartments.Slowlythesoundreceded.
Whenthesoundhaddimmedsufficiently,Jessicabegantheritual,thesadnessinhervoice:“ItwasRamadhanandAprilonBelaTegeuse.”
“Myfamilysatintheirpoolcourtyard,”Harahsaid,“inairbathedbythemoisturethatarosefromthesprayofafountain.Therewasatreeofportyguls,roundanddeepincolor,nearathand.Therewasabasketwithmishmishandbaklawaandmugsofliban—allmannerofgoodthingstoeat.Inourgardensandinourflocks,therewaspeace...peaceinalltheland.”
“Lifewasfullwithhappinessuntiltheraiderscame,”Aliasaid.
“Bloodrancoldatthescreamoffriends,”Jessicasaid.
