Flux

ready by tonight,” Ennek explained to Miner. They took their leave after that, with more rounds of smiling and thanking and even a back slap or two, and then the three of them returned to the house.
    Hai-Shui and Luli were waiting for them with a basket and a pile of towels. Miner wondered why all of them—Hai-Shui, Luli, Yuening, and the children—had to accompany them to the clearing in the trees. But as soon as they reached the pool, everyone except he and Ennek began efficiently shucking their clothing, then hopping into the water. The adults helped keep the children afloat.
    Ennek and Miner looked at the others in shock and then at one another. Ennek had gone an especially interesting shade of red and it occurred to Miner that his lover had likely seen very few people—men or women—naked before. Neither had Miner, until he was locked away with the other slaves.
    But their hosts were waiting, smiling at the two of them quizzically, no doubt wondering why the same men who’d seemed so anxious to bathe earlier were now standing there, fully clothed. Miner grinned at Ennek and pulled off his shirt, then slid his trousers down. He’d overcome most of his modesty in the slave pen, so he only blushed a little as he made his way to the edge of the pool and then slipped in.
    That left Ennek. And while it might have embarrassed him to be so publicly nude, standing there like that was just foolish. “They already saw you without any clothes,” Miner reminded him. “When we first arrived here.”
    “I was unconscious.”
    “And naked.”
    The little girl, who had an arm around her mother’s neck, splashed Miner playfully, and he carefully splashed her back, which made her erupt into a fit of giggles.
    Ennek shot Miner a quick glare and, at last, removed his clothes as well. The adults in the pool exclaimed as soon as his shirt was off, though. Ennek said something back to them that didn’t seem to appease any of them very much, then he joined the rest of them in the water.
    “Why the fuss?” Miner asked.
    “My scar. It’s a lot more healed than they expected.”
    “Oh. What did you tell them?”
    “The truth. Magic.”
    The water was as warm as the previous day and the soap still smelled lovely, and once Miner got over the novelty of group bathing he realized that it was fun. The family laughed and joked and played together—with usually-busy Luli the most relaxed he’d seen her—and everyone had a good time. Even Ennek loosened up soon and joined in the conversation.
    But when Miner turned his back towards the rest so Miner could soap him, there was a group outcry of surprise, and everyone seemed to start talking at once.
    “What?” Miner said, twisting his neck to peer over his shoulder. Everyone was looking at him.
    “Your brand.”
    “Oh. Gods, I thought they knew I’m a slave and—”
    “You’re not a slave. Now hush a minute.”
    Miner turned away again, staring into the trees. Maybe he’d misunderstood them and they hadn’t known the significance of the collar, but now that they’d seen the brand, his status as property was unmistakable. He’d never meant to deceive these kind people. Would they reject him now?
    But someone’s hand was touching his shoulder. Not Ennek’s—this one was smaller, gentler, although just as calloused. He glanced back again. It was Luli, and she didn’t seem angry at him, just fascinated by the mark. She was firing a set of rapid questions at Ennek, who seemed to be doing his stumbling best to understand and respond.
    “What?!” Miner demanded again when they’d all subsided into silence. Luli’s hand was still lightly on the skin below the brand, as if she couldn’t quite believe it. Miner squirmed around and she moved slightly away. Her hair was down, he suddenly noticed. They all had their hair down and free of adornments, and the black and gray strands floated around her shoulders.
    Ennek’s blush had long faded and now he was quite pale. “It’s your brand, Mine. Not the fact that you have one—I’d already told them a little of what happened to you in Donghe—but what it says.”
    “Well? What does it say?”
    “It’s two characters. Their writing is different than ours, you know. It’s not phonetic. They have hundreds of symbols, each of which can stand for different words, depending on the context.”
    “And the brand?”
    “It’s probably someone’s name, they think. His given name and his family name. Neither is