Shadith worked her fingers, looked down at Kikun who’d sat silent through all of this. “What do you think?”
“Drum,” he said and smiled as Digby created a small handdrum and dropped it beside him. “Break the knots,” he said to Shadith, “untie the ends and let us go.”
“All right.”
2
The brush/tunk of the drum lay down in the ground and beat in the blood, while the notes of the harp were as lush, as brilliant as the patches of crimson and sapphire, emerald and amber the lamps’ light picked out from the paintings, the deep green-blue glows in Rose’s tunic, the warm cream of Miralys’ robe, the brittle white that Rohant wore.
Shadow crooned wordless sounds, her voice rich and flowing. Cool. Caressing. Magical. Like spring rain falling from clouds so high the drops seemed to come from the sun. She had doubted herself. She doubted no more.
They came from the shadows, slender and angular, black and silver similitudes of Naya, Zayalla, Annethi, Itsays, Tallitt and Sullan, spinning threads from themselves in a weave more complex than any she’d tried before, spinning dreams for Autumn Rose, for Miralys and Rohant, even for Digby, dreams she didn’t know, couldn’t know, didn’t want to know. What she wanted was her own dream. What she got was that AND Kikun’s dream blended:
Her sisters danced with pattering feet and busy hands-a strange dance, a dance she didn’t know. And Gaagi Raven came and danced among them, black scales glittering, black wings sweeping among them, closing about each one in an oddly protecting embrace (if it could be called an embrace when neither touched the other), wings closing and spreading, closing about Naya, then Zayalla, then Annethi, then Itsays, then Tallitt, and finally Sullan.
The Joy came then, the Purpose. She sang laughter as she saw Itsays wink at her, saw Naya smile and clap her slender hands, saw Zayalla shake her snaky hips, Annethi dance with Sullan around and around Kikun, and touch his shoulders and bend to touch his hands and dance away in joy, dance in circles about Spash’ats and Jadii Gevas, Xumady and Mask while the Lael-Lenox the Grandmother Ghost pranced in a tight little circle of her own…
##
Shadow crooned wordless sounds, her voice rich and flowing. Cool. Caressing. Magical. Like spring rain falling from clouds so high the drops seemed to come from the sun.
AUTUMN ROSE saw:
HERSELF in gold and diamonds and pure black avrishum, under a crystal chandelier that gilded the delicate hairs on her ivory forearms. She played Vagnag and across from her, her only mark was her grandfather. The cards came and the dice leaped to her fingers. She stripped him to his skin, laughed at him and went walking out, a man beside her, a shadowy figure without a face who sheltered her and protected her and… loved her.
MIRALYS saw: ROHANT \ AND
ROHANT saw: MIRALYS /
Lissorn with baby S’ragis sitting on his shoulder-dead baby, golden baby-shining in the hot yellow sun. Jesgejarn, young and shining with the vigor of the young. In a ring around them, clan Voallts, the living and the dead, arms on shoulders dancing.
In the sun on the Savannah, Miralys and Rohant danced with their children, the dead children and the living, danced the Varavany about the carcass of a grand bull yrz.
##
DIGBY saw:
Moonlight on an ocean he knew in his cells, the ocean into which he was born so many years ago he’d long ago lost count.
Moonlight on black sands and fans of land coral. The shimmering blue water lifted and shaped into nine girls dancing, nine glass girls with moonlight shining through them, dancing on black sand shores that were glass and ash now, on a world burnt to bedrock by the folly of his kind, no water left, no girls dancing. It was pain to watch, but sweet pain to see his sisters dancing.
And then it was done.
Over.
Rohant took Miralys’ hand and they left.
Eyes on elsewhere, Autumn Rose came quietly to her feet and left.
Shadith shut the harp in the case. Kikun set the drum aside and took her hand. They left.
Digby sat for a long, time in his bubble in the empty room. Then he, too, was gone.