Flux

and forth between Ennek and Miner, her eyebrows raised questioningly, then pointed at Miner’s collar.
    Miner sighed and shook his head. “No. I belong to him, but he’s mine too, you see.” Knowing she wouldn’t understand his words, he pointed at Ennek and then at his own heart.
    Luli smiled and nodded. She mimicked his gestures, only she pointed at Hai-Shui instead. Ah. So they were married, perhaps. Miner nodded his comprehension, relieved that these people weren’t disgusted over his deviance. But really, he thought, stroking at Ennek’s newly smooth cheek, what was deviant about it? He loved Ennek, loved him enough to forfeit his life if necessary, enough that Miner’s existence would have no color or texture without him. Back in the boat his declaration of love had made Ennek smile, when otherwise there had been so little hope. And Ennek loved him as well, enough to destroy a pirate ship and to nearly kill himself. How could that be wrong?
    Hai-Shui pulled a blanket over Ennek. He left the room for a few seconds, returning with a pile of clothing. He handed the clothes to Miner with a smile. Miner’s face turned red again at the couple’s scrutiny, but he allowed the blanket to drop away and he got dressed. He had been given a pair of loose brown trousers that were too short for him and a long, cream-colored tunic that slipped over his head and tied at the neck. It was an unfamiliar costume but comfortable. And then he thought of his beloved sweater, ruined by the pirates and the sea. It was foolish to be sentimental over a bunch of wool, he knew that, but it had been a gift from Ennek. And besides, it had been his , and he’d lost everything yet again.
    Well, not everything. He still had Ennek. Miner swallowed past the lump in his throat and thanked Hai-Shui. Then the man gave him something else, a length of emerald green silk embroidered with abstract floral shapes in maroon and gold thread. It had long green tassels as well. It must have been a precious thing, but Hai-Shui was giving it to him, and indicating that Miner should wrap it about his neck.
    Now that he was dressed, Miner thought he might have the strength to walk around a bit. He walked to the door and stared outside a little longingly. The children were there again, a boy and girl wearing nothing but simple trousers, and they stopped playing with a kitten in order to stare back. There was a tree at one side of the courtyard, he saw now, and it was hung with colored glass ornaments. Underneath the tree, the young woman who had cared for him earlier was sitting and weaving some cloth on a loom. The sky overhead was bright blue and the air was warm.
    Miner leaned against the doorframe for a long time, until Luli took his hand and led him outside. The dirt was very soft under his feet. He gave a worried look back at Ennek, but Luli tugged at him insistently. She didn’t take him very far, just to a low wooden bench. An enormous ceramic pot was at one end of the bench and when he peeked inside he saw it was full of water and small floating plants, with tiny orange fish darting this way and that.
    The children wandered over and stood just out of reach, regarding him with solemn faces. He stared back. He hadn’t been around children since he was sent Under. He remembered the last time he held Marsa, how solid she had felt in his arms, grabbing at his buttons with her chubby little hands and laughing when he’d made a funny face at her. Now, he smiled a little.
    The little girl pointed at his head and asked something.
    “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” he said.
    They giggled and she pointed again. It must be his hair that was amusing her—short and almost snow white, and nothing at all like her long, black tresses. He ran his palm over his scalp and they laughed again and ran away, shouting at each other while they scurried out of the courtyard.
    Miner spent the day sitting on the bench and strolling slowly around the courtyard, stepping into the house frequently to check on Ennek. Every now and then Luli or Hai-Shui would bring him some food or some tea, or the young woman—who he thought must be their daughter—would point at something and say the word for it in her language, and he would try unsuccessfully to repeat it.
    Sometimes other people would arrive at the entrance to the courtyard and stand at the archway. Luli or Hai-Shui or their daughter would talk to them or, once in a while, go into the house and come back with