Shadow Dancers (Chapter 3)
“Dancers” was not a formal name—of course never heard in public—but had been used so widely and for so long that members of the Order of Shadows used it as easily as the name of a street or a town. The original Shadow had been an actual dancer, whose talent had allowed her access to trade deals, government meetings, and private guild halls. Her manner of ingratiating herself and gathering information so openly and innocently had become a model for apprentices, who also became called “dancers.” The Shadow Dancers ultimately became one branch of the Order of Shadows, along with the more martial Shadow Raptors. Finally, the secret order became large enough to need a public face so as to hide in plain sight. The first Matriarch developed the Golden Conclave, a palatial complex hosting guilds and groups of sages. The Golden Conclave became known for some of the best consultation and training in culture, folklore, sports, theater, and other arts—a bright light, that naturally cast some shadows.
Talitha might have been groomed to succeed the current Martriach or replace Isa, the current Dancer Master—such was her mastery of her craft and even of the human heart—if her true love had not been for her work in the field. She was now a high master who could teach and train apprentices, but this was the furthest she could rise without being called in to manage communication and strategy with other leaders at the base.
Talitha had come to the orphanage at the Golden Conclave before she could walk. Like all members of the order, she had chosen her own path at every step: to study with the private sages rather than attend the public school, to join the Shadows rather than another guild, to train as a Dancer, and to become a master as well as a high master. Like all of the students at the Golden Conclave, Talitha was encouraged to join in city life—whether sports or guilds or clubs—but her community had increasingly become the inner circle of the Order of Shadows. Her ability to mix with all walks of life came more from her training than from vast experience in the community. Yet she could play every social situation like an instrument and was adept at the arts of deception. Somehow she could tune her personality to sooth the most savage, fan into flame the most timid, to fade into the scenery, or to fill a room with her presence. She had a classic beauty, slender with long brown hair and deep brown eyes. Her life force somehow augmented and overshadowed her physically small stature.
Early one fall morning, Talitha loaded her trunk into the tented wagon through the flap at the back of the A-frame canvas. She would travel with clothes of a variety of style and social class with other accessories and props. She carried only concealed throwing knives and already had a set of throwing knives hidden under the seat above the water barrel on the back of the wagon.
Some days before, Rennick had briefed her team on what was most needed from her team’s mission into the Crystal Kingdom. As Raptor Master, Rennick was in charge of operations, although for this team, he brought the objectives from Isa the Dancer Master: battle plans, troop movements, and the location of the rumored spirit artifact. In utmost secrecy, Rennick had told them of an omen sent from the Wind of Haven by the hand of Nardak, a vision of a spirit transport flying into the Crystal Mountains of old. The mission was open as the Shadows did not even know what they did not know, and all information could be helpful. Soon, Rennick and his men would also be setting out to some surrounding cities as well as to Batana, also gathering information for the full initiative in the spring. They all planned to be back by the new year and the Spring Festival.
Miko and Jeth two young Raptors, not yet Masters, arrived next, making sure the two horses were combed, fed, and watered. They were twins, the younger brothers of Galleren, also orphaned to the Golden Conclave, also with bright red hair. They carefully secured one spirit-revealed device, a fire powder gun, beneath the driver’s seat. They hung their swords and bows behind the seat, and filled the feed bin inside the tent. The Raptors had been commissioned to serve primarily as coachmen because, though they already had adequate fight training, they would probably have more protection from the Dancers than the Dancers would have from them.
Celeste, full-born Shadow monk, recently been decorated as a Shadow Master, arrived at the wagon next, bringing two packs and—aside from concealed throwing knives—loading a staff, short sword, bow, and several quivers. Finally, Vyladie arrived, radiant with excitement in the cool, autumn air. She tossed several large bags aboard, and immediately changed out of her ceremonial garments, which she would have worn on a usual trip as a healer.
Talitha reviewd their cover identities as traveling performers, taking them to a nearby stock room to pick out a few gaudy costumes. Talitha found a few extra items for impossible illusions with juggling and conjuring. Celeste, who planned to do acrobatics and other stunts, picked out a few special torches for fire eating and a few special swords for swallowing. Vyladie needed little more than her own Mandolin to accompany her singing and storytelling. They hung two banners with the words “Golden Players” in gold letters on the wooden sides of the wagon True their training, the cover identity was not far from the truth. Because healers often worked with traveling groups, Vyladie had a kind of double cover by working this way with the Golden Conclave.
“As always, our mission is without marching orders or an official leader,” said Talitha when everything was ready.
“By speaking those words you show great leadership, Tal,” Celeste laughed, swinging aboard the wagon as it rolled into motion. By the time Ra had risen enough to give full morning light, the team was across the bridge of seven arches that spanned the Great River and was clopping down the tightly placed pavement stones of the Royal Road.
***
At nightfall, the tented wagon reached the first Royal Station, a caravansary with feeding troughs and stalls for horses set into the hexagon of stone wall that encircled the open courtyard. Celeste leapt from the wagon as they pulled into the one wide entrance, heading up the stairs to walk the wall, scanning the balconies and guard posts above the groups of animals and travelers in the yard below.
Celeste joined the other Dancers as the young Raptors tended the horses. Like the other stations along the Royal Road, this one offered fodder, water, bread, and peace from brigands. Some of the groups used the open fire pits for cooking and even warmth as the evening weather was cool in fall.
As the group of five ate the bread provided and rested around their a fire of their own, Vyladie took out her Mandolin and suggested a game, hoping it might attract other travelers and encourage conversations, especially those coming from the mountains or west lands. Picking the strings gently, she challenged the others to recall stories from the other world, ones not commonly known among the Golden Conclave. The others were more than agreeable, and other travelers did indeed slow their pace or turn to listen as she played upon the Mandolin.
“I’ll start with a story from the Sage Guild,” spoke Vyladie, gently but loudly. “It is scribed and sealed, but I think not often copied or told. It is the story of a bird called the ‘night-singer.’ The story took place in a far-away land where the Emperor lived in a beautiful palace that stood within a beautiful garden so big even the emperor did not know where it ended.
“Far in the deep of the garden as flowers gave way to trees and trees to seas, the night-singer sang such a beautiful song that travelers came from every realm to listen. Folios and scrolls were written in every realm and the best poets and sages praised the song of the night-singer.
“When the news reached the emperor, he exclaimed, ‘Why have I not heard about this bird? Imagine my having to learn this from a book! Bring this bird to me!’ When the king’s men had found the night-singer, they heard a sound more beautiful than crystal bells but saw only a little grey bird upon the branches of a tree. The bird did not want to leave the forest where its music sounded best but finally agreed when it heard that the Emperor wished it.
“When the bird sang in the court, every heart was touched and the emperor’s eyes filled with tears. The night-singer refused the jewelry the emperor offered to hang around its neck, saying, ‘The tears in the eyes of my emperor are my richest reward.’
“One day a large package from a distant kingdom came for the emperor; the label said ‘Night-singer.’ Inside was an artificial bird just like the living one, but instead of being common and grey, it was studded with diamonds and rubies and sapphires.”
At this point in the story, Talitha interrupted, “Is it a spirit artifact or just a work of human art?”
Vyladie smiled, still plucking her strings, and continued, “When the bird was wound up, it could sing one of the songs of the real night-singer, for inside was clockwork. The people never tired of the song because it was so complex, with a rich range of notes. This bird was even more popular than the real one, for it glittered with jewels and gold. When the real bird was forgotten, it flew back to its happy home in the forest.
“The artificial bird had a silken cushion next to the emperor’s bed with presents it had received scattered all around. But over the years, the clockwork began to wear out and they hardly dared to play the song even once a year.
“Many years later, the emperor’s heart was filled with grief for he was alone and close to death, and when the real night-singer heard of the emperor’s need, he flew to his side to comfort him. The song brought healing and the emperor arose with all evil visions charmed away from him. “
“’How can I ever repay you?’ asked the emperor.
“’You rewarded me,’ said the night-singer, ‘when I first brought tears to your eyes, for these are the jewels that make a singer’s heart glad. I will come to you and always bring you healing, but you must promise me one thing.’
“’Everything,’ said the emperor.
“’Let me keep my nest in the forest and tell no one you have a common, grey bird who brings you healing and life.’” Vyladie gave a final strum on her mandolin as she finished her story.
The next day, they continued their trip down the Royal Road. That time of year, the leaves of trees were turning gray and black, many falling like ashes to the ground. The Great River flowed to the north, on their right, as to the left, they passed farmlands ready for fall harvest, haystacks ready for winter feeding, and—the farther from Lak they traveled—villages preparing for their own folk festivals. They came again to a Royal Station at nightfall, and this time Celeste took a turn at storytelling.
“This is a tale of the other world from Batana,” she said after returning from her customary walking of the caravansary wall as they gathered around the fire. “I was assured by a member of the Order of the Path that the story came from a trusted scroll.
“Close to the beginning of the other world, all the humans gathered together and had everything in common with no discord. They came from the east and settled in a land called Shinar. They worked together and made bricks and baked them. They used the bricks for stone and bitumen for mortar.
Then they said to one another, “Let us build a city and a tower that reaches to the heavens. We will call ourselves by one fearsome name so that we will not be scattered over the face of the world.
Then God came down to see the city and the tower that the humans had built. And God said, “Behold, they are one people and have everything in common, and this is just the beginning. Nothing will be impossible to them. Come, let us go down and confuse them so that they cannot understand one another.
So God scattered them across the face of the world, and they left off building the city. Therefore its name was called Babel, because God confused the language of all the people. They could not understand each other or agree about anything and were scattered across the face of the world.”
On the third night, Talitha told a story she had heard at the Temple of the Eternal. She stood dramatically, her manner invoked a stage presence with the two Raptors and two Dancers sitting by the fire at her feet. A group of listeners formed surprisingly quickly.
“I do not know if this tale comes from the oracle, but I hear it told at the Temple of the Eternal.
“Once there was an enchanted kingdom ruled by a wizard with great magic. The people could move mountains and travel as fast as light. The people depended on magic to being them food and bring them news. They did not even wash their own hands or clean their own teeth without the aid of magic. They no longer painted their own paintings and no longer made their own music.
“Some of the people did not want to be ruled by magic. Although they used the magic to teach their children and to heal their sicknesses, they did not want a life where they did not have to leave their beds or lift a finger. They wanted to plant their own food and create their own art. So they lived together and became a tribe.
Their tribe lived happily for a time, for all the people of the kingdom claimed to be free, but disagreement led to arguments, and arguments led to fighting, and fighting led to war. The tribe knew that it could not win a war against magic, so they made a plan. They would surrender and move throughout the land, and they would gather all the magic they would need. They gathered magic swords that could cut through iron and magic ships that could travel through stone; they gathered magic books that could hold a thousand pages and magic shields that could protect from fire and hail.
When they were ready, they did not fight a war but left on ships to travel to a distant land. They left at different times and from different places in a secret exodus. When they gathered again on a distant shore, they made a new life, growing their own food and building their own homes and making their own stories. They lived happily ever after.
Talitha raised her hands in a gentle applause cue, and there was a pattering of clapping from the gathered travelers.
The Dancers kept up the game whenever they stopped at Royal Stations and even built relationships with travelers who joined then at their fireside story time. Vyladie told the story of a great flood that covered the world and another of a proud god who flew too close to Ra. Celeste told of an army that hid inside a wooden horse that was gifted to an enemy. Talitha told of a god, killed by his brother, scattered in pieces across the land, regathered by his wife and sister, and resurrected by the gods. They told stories of heroes, talking animals, and magic. Their trip was uneventful, other than pre-empting the games of the odd pickpocket or sneak thief.
The Shadow dancers were at a caravansary three day’s journey from Batana when they happened upon a happy fact that would improve their cover identities, providing better purpose and potential for engagement upon reaching the Crystal kingdom. One of the fellow travelers, a merchant in fine cloth from the southern isles, who had been drawn in to their evening storytelling, revealed that he had recently been with the troops of the Gold Delving, capitol of the kingdom and home of the Crystal King. Knowing that any accurate detail could prove useful, the Shadow Dancer showered the traveler with laughter and appreciation.
“You must know the latest trends in the capitol. What can we prepare to best entertain the people there?” Talitha asked.
“The show people seem like those found everywhere,” said the merchant. “There are bards, acrobats, actors, and fools. But the troops and some of the officers were hiring gypsies from Batana who cast stones for divination. The interest is so high that the king has made an edict forbidding the stones for use in battle strategy. The soldiers are not allowed to use the stones as fortune telling to choose marching directions or timing of attacks. Lately, they seem to enjoy the casting of the stones as much as gambling and drinking.”
As soon as the dancers were alone, Talitha expressed her excitement about this news from the kingdom: “Casting the stones might be a way into the inner circle.”
Celeste asked, “Vy, you know the way of the cards and the coins. You know the way of the stones, too, don’t you?”
Vyladie nodded slowly, not sure at first whether she wanted to concede to anything.
“We couldn’t have hoped for a better ruse,” said Talitha. Best of all, the change in Vyladie’s cover would only require a short stop and a few easy purchases in Batana.
When they reached the citadel, they dropped off Vyladie and one of the young raptors at the ferry crossing and parked the wagon just upriver where builders were working on a bridge of cut stones. Water flowed between two completed arches that ended abrupbtly like a cliff in the midst of the Great River.
Upon entering the citadel, they hired a double rickshaw to carry them north of the night market, away from the popular sanctuaries, to the Batana House of Healing, a walled courtyard housing a stone building with a spire, a smaller version of her own home in Lak. Miko, the young Raptor waited outside with the rickshaw, without asking questions, as Vyladie passed through the gateway to see the inner walls covered in green vines and the courtyard full of shrubs of red and yellow blossoms.
Finding the high healer, a tall, white-haired, white-bearded man in the white robes of the order, she expressed the urgency of her visit, “I seek knowledge of an ancient spirit transport, a black sphere.” The High Healer knew and trusted Vyladie deeply. He took her back through the small library to an even smaller inner chamber that very few healers had ever seen. Bolting the door, he took out a folio titled Ancient Sacraments and Sacrifices.
“I seem to remember such an image.” The high healer said, turning through the pages of scribed words and drawings of altars, temples, and spirit devices.
“Is this folio scribed and sealed?” asked Vyladie. The most trusted spirit sources were said to have been accessed directly from spirit artifacts and carefully transcribed and sealed by sages of good reputation.
“Perhaps. But some of the knowledge here,” he said, indicating the chamber, “is older than can be definitively validated and some could be construed as heretical to the ways of the Most High. However, the people of Batana sometimes need strange consolations and remedies.” He turned to a drawing of a round, dark sanctuary with an open portal. “Yes. Here it is. The passage here describes a sacred space where oracles are given and where spoken prayers are immediately effective in bringing knowledge, healing, music, light, heat, and maybe some kind of visions or art. Some of the effects mentioned are not recognizable but seem to indicate movement across land or moving the ground itself.” Vyladie looked over the page before closing the folio, expressing profuse thanks, and taking her leave.
Waving to the pillar of whiteness, which was the high healer, and rejoining the young red-haired escort, she hurried back through the night market for her express purpose of purchasing the needed rune stones. She also picked out some colorful traveling clothes worthy of a Batanan gypsy, before passing back out through the seven staggered gates of Batana.
***
The Shadow Dancers came to the end of the Royal Road just south of the Haunted Forrest. Here the caravansaries, pavement, and royal patrols ceased although the dirt road was wide and tightly packed. Finally, they reached the Crystal Mountains with the Great Falls and the Haunted Forrest to the north. The watch station at the opening of the mountain pass at the base of the mountains, sometimes occupied by soldiers of the Crystal Kingdom, was deserted this evening, and the team camped with Vyladie taking the first watch, followed by the red-haired Raptors Miko and Jeth, who in turn awakened Celeste and Talitha for the early watch.
It was in the dim light between night and day, with Talitha on the front seat and Celeste, at her station on the back-facing seat, heard the sound of a falling rock. Although the single sound of rock striking rock could have been caused by wind or bird or badger, something in Celeste’s intuition alerted her, and she moved quietly to find Talitha listening intently, leaning into the slowly dawning day.
There was only the sound of the wind and nothing more.
Breaking camp meant little more than removing the wheel wedge and harnessing the horses. The pass was twenty meters across at the narrowest points and sometimes as wide as sixty, packed from the years of use, and the tented wagon rolled easily through the curves of rock face. Trees grew on some of the ridges they passed by, and the highest peaks were white with snow and ice. They had traveled for almost an hour when Mika whistled from the driver’s seat and nodded forward. Jeth was notching an arrow. In the road ahead, a woman lay motionless, curly black hair and tattered clothes in the dust.
“Keep moving,” Talitha said to Mika as she guided Jeth under the canvas tent and quickly groped through Vyladie’s bag to find her white robe. Touching Jeth’s bow, she pointed to Vyladie. Handing Vyladie her robe, she pointed to the woman in the road. She touched Celeste, pointing to the south side of the pass, and she touched herself, pointing to the north side. The Dancers disappeared into the rocks on each side of the wagon as it continued rolling.
“Dancers” was not a formal name—of course never heard in public—but had been used so widely and for so long that members of the Order of Shadows used it as easily as the name of a street or a town. The original Shadow had been an actual dancer, whose talent had allowed her access to trade deals, government meetings, and private guild halls. Her manner of ingratiating herself and gathering information so openly and innocently had become a model for apprentices, who also became called “dancers.” The Shadow Dancers ultimately became one branch of the Order of Shadows, along with the more martial Shadow Raptors. Finally, the secret order became large enough to need a public face so as to hide in plain sight. The first Matriarch developed the Golden Conclave, a palatial complex hosting guilds and groups of sages. The Golden Conclave became known for some of the best consultation and training in culture, folklore, sports, theater, and other arts—a bright light, that naturally cast some shadows.
Talitha might have been groomed to succeed the current Martriach or replace Isa, the current Dancer Master—such was her mastery of her craft and even of the human heart—if her true love had not been for her work in the field. She was now a high master who could teach and train apprentices, but this was the furthest she could rise without being called in to manage communication and strategy with other leaders at the base.
Talitha had come to the orphanage at the Golden Conclave before she could walk. Like all members of the order, she had chosen her own path at every step: to study with the private sages rather than attend the public school, to join the Shadows rather than another guild, to train as a Dancer, and to become a master as well as a high master. Like all of the students at the Golden Conclave, Talitha was encouraged to join in city life—whether sports or guilds or clubs—but her community had increasingly become the inner circle of the Order of Shadows. Her ability to mix with all walks of life came more from her training than from vast experience in the community. Yet she could play every social situation like an instrument and was adept at the arts of deception. Somehow she could tune her personality to sooth the most savage, fan into flame the most timid, to fade into the scenery, or to fill a room with her presence. She had a classic beauty, slender with long brown hair and deep brown eyes. Her life force somehow augmented and overshadowed her physically small stature.
Early one fall morning, Talitha loaded her trunk into the tented wagon through the flap at the back of the A-frame canvas. She would travel with clothes of a variety of style and social class with other accessories and props. She carried only concealed throwing knives and already had a set of throwing knives hidden under the seat above the water barrel on the back of the wagon.
Some days before, Rennick had briefed her team on what was most needed from her team’s mission into the Crystal Kingdom. As Raptor Master, Rennick was in charge of operations, although for this team, he brought the objectives from Isa the Dancer Master: battle plans, troop movements, and the location of the rumored spirit artifact. In utmost secrecy, Rennick had told them of an omen sent from the Wind of Haven by the hand of Nardak, a vision of a spirit transport flying into the Crystal Mountains of old. The mission was open as the Shadows did not even know what they did not know, and all information could be helpful. Soon, Rennick and his men would also be setting out to some surrounding cities as well as to Batana, also gathering information for the full initiative in the spring. They all planned to be back by the new year and the Spring Festival.
Miko and Jeth two young Raptors, not yet Masters, arrived next, making sure the two horses were combed, fed, and watered. They were twins, the younger brothers of Galleren, also orphaned to the Golden Conclave, also with bright red hair. They carefully secured one spirit-revealed device, a fire powder gun, beneath the driver’s seat. They hung their swords and bows behind the seat, and filled the feed bin inside the tent. The Raptors had been commissioned to serve primarily as coachmen because, though they already had adequate fight training, they would probably have more protection from the Dancers than the Dancers would have from them.
Celeste, full-born Shadow monk, recently been decorated as a Shadow Master, arrived at the wagon next, bringing two packs and—aside from concealed throwing knives—loading a staff, short sword, bow, and several quivers. Finally, Vyladie arrived, radiant with excitement in the cool, autumn air. She tossed several large bags aboard, and immediately changed out of her ceremonial garments, which she would have worn on a usual trip as a healer.
Talitha reviewd their cover identities as traveling performers, taking them to a nearby stock room to pick out a few gaudy costumes. Talitha found a few extra items for impossible illusions with juggling and conjuring. Celeste, who planned to do acrobatics and other stunts, picked out a few special torches for fire eating and a few special swords for swallowing. Vyladie needed little more than her own Mandolin to accompany her singing and storytelling. They hung two banners with the words “Golden Players” in gold letters on the wooden sides of the wagon True their training, the cover identity was not far from the truth. Because healers often worked with traveling groups, Vyladie had a kind of double cover by working this way with the Golden Conclave.
“As always, our mission is without marching orders or an official leader,” said Talitha when everything was ready.
“By speaking those words you show great leadership, Tal,” Celeste laughed, swinging aboard the wagon as it rolled into motion. By the time Ra had risen enough to give full morning light, the team was across the bridge of seven arches that spanned the Great River and was clopping down the tightly placed pavement stones of the Royal Road.
***
At nightfall, the tented wagon reached the first Royal Station, a caravansary with feeding troughs and stalls for horses set into the hexagon of stone wall that encircled the open courtyard. Celeste leapt from the wagon as they pulled into the one wide entrance, heading up the stairs to walk the wall, scanning the balconies and guard posts above the groups of animals and travelers in the yard below.
Celeste joined the other Dancers as the young Raptors tended the horses. Like the other stations along the Royal Road, this one offered fodder, water, bread, and peace from brigands. Some of the groups used the open fire pits for cooking and even warmth as the evening weather was cool in fall.
As the group of five ate the bread provided and rested around their a fire of their own, Vyladie took out her Mandolin and suggested a game, hoping it might attract other travelers and encourage conversations, especially those coming from the mountains or west lands. Picking the strings gently, she challenged the others to recall stories from the other world, ones not commonly known among the Golden Conclave. The others were more than agreeable, and other travelers did indeed slow their pace or turn to listen as she played upon the Mandolin.
“I’ll start with a story from the Sage Guild,” spoke Vyladie, gently but loudly. “It is scribed and sealed, but I think not often copied or told. It is the story of a bird called the ‘night-singer.’ The story took place in a far-away land where the Emperor lived in a beautiful palace that stood within a beautiful garden so big even the emperor did not know where it ended.
“Far in the deep of the garden as flowers gave way to trees and trees to seas, the night-singer sang such a beautiful song that travelers came from every realm to listen. Folios and scrolls were written in every realm and the best poets and sages praised the song of the night-singer.
“When the news reached the emperor, he exclaimed, ‘Why have I not heard about this bird? Imagine my having to learn this from a book! Bring this bird to me!’ When the king’s men had found the night-singer, they heard a sound more beautiful than crystal bells but saw only a little grey bird upon the branches of a tree. The bird did not want to leave the forest where its music sounded best but finally agreed when it heard that the Emperor wished it.
“When the bird sang in the court, every heart was touched and the emperor’s eyes filled with tears. The night-singer refused the jewelry the emperor offered to hang around its neck, saying, ‘The tears in the eyes of my emperor are my richest reward.’
“One day a large package from a distant kingdom came for the emperor; the label said ‘Night-singer.’ Inside was an artificial bird just like the living one, but instead of being common and grey, it was studded with diamonds and rubies and sapphires.”
At this point in the story, Talitha interrupted, “Is it a spirit artifact or just a work of human art?”
Vyladie smiled, still plucking her strings, and continued, “When the bird was wound up, it could sing one of the songs of the real night-singer, for inside was clockwork. The people never tired of the song because it was so complex, with a rich range of notes. This bird was even more popular than the real one, for it glittered with jewels and gold. When the real bird was forgotten, it flew back to its happy home in the forest.
“The artificial bird had a silken cushion next to the emperor’s bed with presents it had received scattered all around. But over the years, the clockwork began to wear out and they hardly dared to play the song even once a year.
“Many years later, the emperor’s heart was filled with grief for he was alone and close to death, and when the real night-singer heard of the emperor’s need, he flew to his side to comfort him. The song brought healing and the emperor arose with all evil visions charmed away from him. “
“’How can I ever repay you?’ asked the emperor.
“’You rewarded me,’ said the night-singer, ‘when I first brought tears to your eyes, for these are the jewels that make a singer’s heart glad. I will come to you and always bring you healing, but you must promise me one thing.’
“’Everything,’ said the emperor.
“’Let me keep my nest in the forest and tell no one you have a common, grey bird who brings you healing and life.’” Vyladie gave a final strum on her mandolin as she finished her story.
The next day, they continued their trip down the Royal Road. That time of year, the leaves of trees were turning gray and black, many falling like ashes to the ground. The Great River flowed to the north, on their right, as to the left, they passed farmlands ready for fall harvest, haystacks ready for winter feeding, and—the farther from Lak they traveled—villages preparing for their own folk festivals. They came again to a Royal Station at nightfall, and this time Celeste took a turn at storytelling.
“This is a tale of the other world from Batana,” she said after returning from her customary walking of the caravansary wall as they gathered around the fire. “I was assured by a member of the Order of the Path that the story came from a trusted scroll.
“Close to the beginning of the other world, all the humans gathered together and had everything in common with no discord. They came from the east and settled in a land called Shinar. They worked together and made bricks and baked them. They used the bricks for stone and bitumen for mortar.
Then they said to one another, “Let us build a city and a tower that reaches to the heavens. We will call ourselves by one fearsome name so that we will not be scattered over the face of the world.
Then God came down to see the city and the tower that the humans had built. And God said, “Behold, they are one people and have everything in common, and this is just the beginning. Nothing will be impossible to them. Come, let us go down and confuse them so that they cannot understand one another.
So God scattered them across the face of the world, and they left off building the city. Therefore its name was called Babel, because God confused the language of all the people. They could not understand each other or agree about anything and were scattered across the face of the world.”
On the third night, Talitha told a story she had heard at the Temple of the Eternal. She stood dramatically, her manner invoked a stage presence with the two Raptors and two Dancers sitting by the fire at her feet. A group of listeners formed surprisingly quickly.
“I do not know if this tale comes from the oracle, but I hear it told at the Temple of the Eternal.
“Once there was an enchanted kingdom ruled by a wizard with great magic. The people could move mountains and travel as fast as light. The people depended on magic to being them food and bring them news. They did not even wash their own hands or clean their own teeth without the aid of magic. They no longer painted their own paintings and no longer made their own music.
“Some of the people did not want to be ruled by magic. Although they used the magic to teach their children and to heal their sicknesses, they did not want a life where they did not have to leave their beds or lift a finger. They wanted to plant their own food and create their own art. So they lived together and became a tribe.
Their tribe lived happily for a time, for all the people of the kingdom claimed to be free, but disagreement led to arguments, and arguments led to fighting, and fighting led to war. The tribe knew that it could not win a war against magic, so they made a plan. They would surrender and move throughout the land, and they would gather all the magic they would need. They gathered magic swords that could cut through iron and magic ships that could travel through stone; they gathered magic books that could hold a thousand pages and magic shields that could protect from fire and hail.
When they were ready, they did not fight a war but left on ships to travel to a distant land. They left at different times and from different places in a secret exodus. When they gathered again on a distant shore, they made a new life, growing their own food and building their own homes and making their own stories. They lived happily ever after.
Talitha raised her hands in a gentle applause cue, and there was a pattering of clapping from the gathered travelers.
The Dancers kept up the game whenever they stopped at Royal Stations and even built relationships with travelers who joined then at their fireside story time. Vyladie told the story of a great flood that covered the world and another of a proud god who flew too close to Ra. Celeste told of an army that hid inside a wooden horse that was gifted to an enemy. Talitha told of a god, killed by his brother, scattered in pieces across the land, regathered by his wife and sister, and resurrected by the gods. They told stories of heroes, talking animals, and magic. Their trip was uneventful, other than pre-empting the games of the odd pickpocket or sneak thief.
The Shadow dancers were at a caravansary three day’s journey from Batana when they happened upon a happy fact that would improve their cover identities, providing better purpose and potential for engagement upon reaching the Crystal kingdom. One of the fellow travelers, a merchant in fine cloth from the southern isles, who had been drawn in to their evening storytelling, revealed that he had recently been with the troops of the Gold Delving, capitol of the kingdom and home of the Crystal King. Knowing that any accurate detail could prove useful, the Shadow Dancer showered the traveler with laughter and appreciation.
“You must know the latest trends in the capitol. What can we prepare to best entertain the people there?” Talitha asked.
“The show people seem like those found everywhere,” said the merchant. “There are bards, acrobats, actors, and fools. But the troops and some of the officers were hiring gypsies from Batana who cast stones for divination. The interest is so high that the king has made an edict forbidding the stones for use in battle strategy. The soldiers are not allowed to use the stones as fortune telling to choose marching directions or timing of attacks. Lately, they seem to enjoy the casting of the stones as much as gambling and drinking.”
As soon as the dancers were alone, Talitha expressed her excitement about this news from the kingdom: “Casting the stones might be a way into the inner circle.”
Celeste asked, “Vy, you know the way of the cards and the coins. You know the way of the stones, too, don’t you?”
Vyladie nodded slowly, not sure at first whether she wanted to concede to anything.
“We couldn’t have hoped for a better ruse,” said Talitha. Best of all, the change in Vyladie’s cover would only require a short stop and a few easy purchases in Batana.
When they reached the citadel, they dropped off Vyladie and one of the young raptors at the ferry crossing and parked the wagon just upriver where builders were working on a bridge of cut stones. Water flowed between two completed arches that ended abrupbtly like a cliff in the midst of the Great River.
Upon entering the citadel, they hired a double rickshaw to carry them north of the night market, away from the popular sanctuaries, to the Batana House of Healing, a walled courtyard housing a stone building with a spire, a smaller version of her own home in Lak. Miko, the young Raptor waited outside with the rickshaw, without asking questions, as Vyladie passed through the gateway to see the inner walls covered in green vines and the courtyard full of shrubs of red and yellow blossoms.
Finding the high healer, a tall, white-haired, white-bearded man in the white robes of the order, she expressed the urgency of her visit, “I seek knowledge of an ancient spirit transport, a black sphere.” The High Healer knew and trusted Vyladie deeply. He took her back through the small library to an even smaller inner chamber that very few healers had ever seen. Bolting the door, he took out a folio titled Ancient Sacraments and Sacrifices.
“I seem to remember such an image.” The high healer said, turning through the pages of scribed words and drawings of altars, temples, and spirit devices.
“Is this folio scribed and sealed?” asked Vyladie. The most trusted spirit sources were said to have been accessed directly from spirit artifacts and carefully transcribed and sealed by sages of good reputation.
“Perhaps. But some of the knowledge here,” he said, indicating the chamber, “is older than can be definitively validated and some could be construed as heretical to the ways of the Most High. However, the people of Batana sometimes need strange consolations and remedies.” He turned to a drawing of a round, dark sanctuary with an open portal. “Yes. Here it is. The passage here describes a sacred space where oracles are given and where spoken prayers are immediately effective in bringing knowledge, healing, music, light, heat, and maybe some kind of visions or art. Some of the effects mentioned are not recognizable but seem to indicate movement across land or moving the ground itself.” Vyladie looked over the page before closing the folio, expressing profuse thanks, and taking her leave.
Waving to the pillar of whiteness, which was the high healer, and rejoining the young red-haired escort, she hurried back through the night market for her express purpose of purchasing the needed rune stones. She also picked out some colorful traveling clothes worthy of a Batanan gypsy, before passing back out through the seven staggered gates of Batana.
***
The Shadow Dancers came to the end of the Royal Road just south of the Haunted Forrest. Here the caravansaries, pavement, and royal patrols ceased although the dirt road was wide and tightly packed. Finally, they reached the Crystal Mountains with the Great Falls and the Haunted Forrest to the north. The watch station at the opening of the mountain pass at the base of the mountains, sometimes occupied by soldiers of the Crystal Kingdom, was deserted this evening, and the team camped with Vyladie taking the first watch, followed by the red-haired Raptors Miko and Jeth, who in turn awakened Celeste and Talitha for the early watch.
It was in the dim light between night and day, with Talitha on the front seat and Celeste, at her station on the back-facing seat, heard the sound of a falling rock. Although the single sound of rock striking rock could have been caused by wind or bird or badger, something in Celeste’s intuition alerted her, and she moved quietly to find Talitha listening intently, leaning into the slowly dawning day.
There was only the sound of the wind and nothing more.
Breaking camp meant little more than removing the wheel wedge and harnessing the horses. The pass was twenty meters across at the narrowest points and sometimes as wide as sixty, packed from the years of use, and the tented wagon rolled easily through the curves of rock face. Trees grew on some of the ridges they passed by, and the highest peaks were white with snow and ice. They had traveled for almost an hour when Mika whistled from the driver’s seat and nodded forward. Jeth was notching an arrow. In the road ahead, a woman lay motionless, curly black hair and tattered clothes in the dust.
“Keep moving,” Talitha said to Mika as she guided Jeth under the canvas tent and quickly groped through Vyladie’s bag to find her white robe. Touching Jeth’s bow, she pointed to Vyladie. Handing Vyladie her robe, she pointed to the woman in the road. She touched Celeste, pointing to the south side of the pass, and she touched herself, pointing to the north side. The Dancers disappeared into the rocks on each side of the wagon as it continued rolling.