Free Seeker of Stars: A Novel by Susan Fish Page A

closer and thought of my brother. I had wanted to believe that Salvi no longer held a grudge against me, that we could be brothers again, but something Daria said as I left our village had settled in my heart like a stone. When she told me she would not mention my visit to Salvi, I knew how little the rupture of the past was healed. My unease at moving forward into new land was rooted in how much I had left undone and unsaid in my own land, my own home.
    As the caravan drew closer, Shaz stood at the edge of the shade, leaning against one of the trees. “Israelites?” he wondered aloud. Balzar shook his head, but he knew by this point in the journey that Shaz needed to make discoveries for himself. “No,” Shaz said not long after. “They’re not. They’re from our country.”
    I watched the caravan so like Salvi and Taz’s. As it approached the oasis, I realized it was indeed my own family, and I rushed to greet them. Taz quickly dismounted and gave me a hearty embrace. Salvi called down a greeting but stayed seated, his hands tightly clutching his camel’s rope, eyes surveying our group.
    I felt the familiar sense of shame I always had when Salvi entered the world of the astronomers. I had spent so many years, particularly when I lived with the chief astronomer, feeling poor and provincial, only to feel decadent and privileged beyond reason whenever Salvi arrived. Things and money mattered to Salvi much more than they did to me, though I had to admit I enjoyed the luxuries of wealth.
    “You know these … people?” Shaz asked, a barely perceptible pause between his last words, demonstrating again his subtle arrogance.
    Despite his tone and Salvi’s reticence, I was happy. Taz was Taz, and while he did not dote on me as Balzar did on his son, in some ways I belonged to him, and he offered me a familiar feeling in this empty place. And Salvi—there was so much I wanted to say to Salvi. Words had begun to form in my mind and I longed for time and occasion to speak them.
    “My uncle, Taz, and my brother, Salvi.” Taz was uncle to everyone, and he reached out to clasp Shaz’s hands and kiss his cheek. Salvi made an elaborate bow to Shaz and bent his head toward Shaz throughout their conversation. Even Shaz did not perceive the irony in Salvi’s tone. Shaz was impressed at my brother’s studied deference and invited him and Taz to join us for the evening. I was appreciative, and so was weary Balzar.
    When it came time to eat, some awkwardness ensued. Generally the magi ate alone, while the guards and servants sat together to eat. Taz took Shaz’s invitation to mean he could eat with us, while Salvi held back. Shaz looked disturbed, though he said nothing. I decided to break rank. I took my uncle by the elbow to the second group and introduced the men to Taz and Salvi. When I had finished introductions, I sat down and indicated seats for my brother and uncle.
    Taz was confused. “But what about—?”
    “Uncle Taz,” I said cheerfully, “wait until you hear the stories of these men. Miraz here has traveled with the king through mountains and green lands.” Miraz smiled. Salvi relaxed a bit and nodded at me.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Shaz did not like this arrangement any better than the first, but then I saw Caspar whisper to Shaz. The furrow in Shaz’s brow eased, and he began to eat. I did not know Caspar possessed such wisdom. I had always seen Caspar as Shaz’s shadow, the prince-in-waiting. Now, I suddenly saw things differently: Caspar was older than Shaz and was married to Stela’s older sister. By rights he should have been the brother treated with honor, but between Shaz’s personal wealth and connections, Caspar got the residue of Shaz’s glory.
    I wondered if my own brother was essentially in the same position. Though my elder, he was still supposed to eat with the servants, while I had risen above him when I joined the magi. When I said class did not matter to me, I believe I