Wildwood Dancing

by Juliet Marillier

  “What solution? What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes you have to let go. Sometimes you should hold on with all the strength you’ve got. And you have a lot of strength, Jena—too much for your own good, sometimes.” She clicked her fingers; the snake wriggled toward her, hissing. She stooped and it flowed up her arm to settle around her shoulders like an exotic garment. Then she marched off into the forest without another word, and the shadows swallowed the two of them.

  At that moment a horn sounded from down by Ileana’s little pavilion. At last it was time for the royal audience. As I made my way across the sward, I found that I had a companion. The green-eyed man was walking beside me, a discreet distance away, not saying a word.

  “What do you want?” I snapped, fighting an urge to move closer.

  He remained silent; the look he gave me was gravely assessing. We advanced side by side. Although he kept a decorous arm’s length away, my whole body felt his presence as if we were touching—as if we were walking arm in arm, like sweethearts. My face was hot; I knew I was blushing. I kept my eyes straight ahead. I had to keep my sisters safe. I could not afford to weaken.

  Ileana was seated on her throne, the long train of her gown arranged artistically around her feet. Marin stood beside her, the lanterns turning his hair to brilliant gold. He needed no crown to show his royal status. Standing on tiptoe and craning my neck over a mass of shoulders, I caught a glimpse of Tati in her gossamer gown, white arms stretched out in supplication.

  “… and nobody will tell me where he is,” she was saying. “I must know! I have to find him!”

  “Ah, true love,” said Ileana with a little knowing smile, and a ripple of laughter went around the gathered crowd. I tried to get through to the front, but the throng was too tightly packed, and I stumbled. Almost before I could draw breath, Gogu’s hand was there at my elbow, steadying me. A moment later he was alongside me, clearing a way for us to go through. Folk took one look at him and simply moved aside.

  “Thanks,” I muttered ungraciously. We halted at the front, he behind me.

  “Please help us, Your Majesty.” Tati’s voice was trembling. “Tell me where Sorrow went, so I can look for him. He’s all alone. He needs me.”

  “Child,” Ileana said, “do you recognize the gravity of what you intend to do? Do you know what a human woman must sacrifice to wed one of our kind? You are young. You will have suitors aplenty in your own world. Give this up. Sorrow is gone. If he did not keep faith with you, why should you do any more for him?”

  Tati clenched her fists. “You’re lying,” she told the queen. A ripple of shock ran around the circle. “I know Sorrow wouldn’t turn his back on me. If he’s not here, there must be another explanation. Anyway, we think maybe he’s not one of your kind. Jena saw a vision: it looked as if he and his sister were human children captured by the Night People. That means he’s the same kind as me. You can’t forbid us to be together—”

  “May I speak?” I interrupted. I had seen the look in Ileana’s eyes. I knew I must stop Tati before she angered the queen beyond helping us. I had never witnessed one of Ileana’s rages, but the folk of the Other Kingdom spoke of them with awe. Her screams had been known to crack ice and make birds fall from the trees. “Your Majesty, perhaps you know that my sister and I crossed over at Dark of the Moon last month. It was not a very wise thing to do, but Tatiana was concerned about Sorrow’s safety.”

  “And you had your own reasons, no doubt, Jenica.” Ileana’s pale blue eyes bored into me, seeking out my most carefully guarded thoughts.

  “I wanted information,” I said cautiously. “I’d been invited to look in Drǎguţa’s magic mirror.” I heard a gasp from the assembled folk; this meant something to them. “I thought if I could see the future I might be able to change things, Your Majesty. That was foolish—I know that now.”

  “What did you see in this mirror? Enlighten us, Jenica.” Ileana’s tone was quite chilly.

  “What Tatiana told you. Sorrow and a little girl as children, and the leader of the Night People offering them shelter when they were lost. I saw that same girl at the Dark of the Moon gathering. It alarmed me that such a young person should be exposed to the evil things I saw there. It is hard to believe that world exists alongside yours, Your Majesty. Until we crossed over, we had no idea of it.”

  “And what else did this magic mirror show you?”

  “I …”

  “Come on. You went there—you let temptation rule you. Tell the truth!” Suddenly she was on her feet: tall, fell, and terrible. The glade seemed to darken.

  “I saw this young man, the one who is standing behind me. As I watched, this mask of—of ordinariness—slipped off, and there was a terrible creature underneath. A creature that belonged there, in Tadeusz’s dark world. He … I saw him do some cruel things, Your Majesty. Things that turned my blood cold.” I could not look at Gogu.

  “You are telling us that the creature you have carried close to you all these years—the little frog who enjoyed our midnight frolics and journeyed among us held safely on your shoulder—is a monster beneath the surface?”

  Misery shrank my voice to a whisper. Without looking, I could sense Gogu’s utter stillness. We had not been so close all those years for nothing. “That’s the way it seems. When Drǎguţa turned him back into a man, that’s the man he was. I think it was all some kind of cruel joke.” I pulled myself together. “But I’m not here to ask about that, Your Majesty. Tati and I are deeply concerned about Sorrow and his sister. I understand that even if they are human folk, they have been in the Other Kingdom too long now to come back to our world. I saw Sorrow jump off a high parapet at Piscul Dracului. No human man could do that and survive. I understand that perhaps, after so many years, they have become something very like the Night People. But, Your Majesty, if you could find a place for them in your own realm, safe from those who hold them in thrall, that would be much better than leaving them where they are. That little girl is almost a woman: I don’t like to think what might become of her.…”

  “Ah,” said Ileana. “You are able to see somewhat more broadly than I gave you credit for, Jenica. Good. You realize, of course, that nothing comes without a cost.”

  “So folk keep telling me.”

  “You may have to give up something precious, Jena. Something very dear to your heart.”

  I was five years old again, and offering my crown. I want to be Queen of the Fairies.

  “Can it be done, Your Majesty?” Tati breathed. “Can you bring them here?”

  “Sorrow’s gone,” said Ileana flatly. “You weren’t listening, Tatiana.”

  “Nor were you!” Tati’s voice was rising. “I told you, he loves me! He’ll come back for me—I know he will!”

  “Love, hope, trust,” Marin said lightly. “These are strong in you, Tatiana: so strong, your belief in them seems almost foolish. Are they so important?”

  Tati squared her frail shoulders and lifted her chin. “They’re everything,” she said, and her voice rang out around Dancing Glade like a clear bell. “That’s what life is all about—love and loyalty, truth and trust. I’m not giving that up. And I’m not giving Sorrow up. Tell me where he is. Tell me what I have to do to find him.”

  Behind me, Gogu shifted. I glanced up. He had a funny look in his eyes, and his fingers were by my shoulder, close to the place where he was once accustomed to sit under the shelter of my hair. I edged away, alarmed by how badly I wanted him to touch me. His hand fell back to his side, and his face went blank.

  “Well spoken, Tatiana,” Ileana said, a little smile curving her lips. “You have passed the first part of your test. The second requires that you maintain hope for somewhat longer, for Sorrow is indeed gone—gone far away. As it happens, we have made an arrangement with the Night People. We were very displeased that they did not keep their bloody activities outside this valley. We have watched over your small community since time before time. We do not indulge in senseless acts of
violence; wanton bloodletting sickens us, whether it be of human folk or creatures. In Tadeusz’s world it is different. His exists alongside mine—indeed, within the Other Kingdom are many worlds. At Full Moon dancing, you sisters have seen but the merest sliver of our realm. You were young when we first admitted you here, young and vulnerable. We showed you what was appropriate. When you chose to visit Tadeusz’s world, you entered a far different place. In your world and in ours, darkness and light exist side by side.”

  She turned and beckoned, and one of her attendants—a tall woman clad in dry beech leaves, with wisps of fern tangled into her hair—came forward, with a pale-faced girl by her side. The girl was all in black. She looked much as she had when last I saw her—dazed, unseeing—but there was more color in her face now, as if a long frost was starting to thaw.

  “We bargained for Silence here,” Ileana said. “I share your concerns, Jenica. She is with us until her brother can achieve the quest we have set him. Much rides on it. Sorrow has three prizes to win, should he fulfill his task in time.”

  Tati stood silent, waiting for more. I could see her trembling.

  “He has until midnight at next Full Moon to execute it and return. Fail, and he must leave our forest forever. If he prevails and returns in time, he will win his sister’s release to my realm and my rule. The Night People will move away from our valley. And we will give Sorrow permission to bring you across, Tatiana, and to dwell with you among us as man and wife.”

  “Oh … oh, thank you,” said Tati, clasping her thin hands together. “Thank you …”

  My heart was hammering. I had wanted Tati to get her answers, but not this. This just could not be. “My lady,” I blurted out. “Your Majesty … this is not right. Don’t you realize what it would mean, if my sister wed Sorrow? She’d have to leave our world forever. Our father is very sick, perhaps dying. This could be the final blow for him—” I saw Tati’s eyes fill with tears. Ileana’s regal features became glacial, but I didn’t seem to be able to stop myself. “You can’t allow this! There has to be another way!”

  “Of course, Sorrow may not succeed in the quest,” Ileana said crisply. I wilted under her stare. “We made it difficult, in recognition of the value of the reward. If he never returns, or does so without fulfilling our requirements, you can keep your sister. For you are right: Sorrow and Silence have been here too long to go back to the human world. Each has developed qualities that would lead to great trouble if they tried to return. Neither could last long.”

  What could I say? That I would rather my sister not marry the man she loved, even if it meant she would be unhappy all her life? When I looked at it that way, it did not seem to matter what Sorrow was or what he might have become. How could I wish his quest to fail, if that meant he and the fragile-looking Silence must return to the dark world of the Night People? But if he succeeded, Tati would say goodbye to her family and home forever. We might never see her again. Torn two ways, I held my silence.

  “What is the nature of this quest, Your Majesty?” Tati’s voice was trembling.

  It was Marin who answered. “He must journey within both your world and ours. Five items are to be brought back. A jewel from the ceremonial headdress of the Caliph of Tunis. A tail feather from the sacred phoenix of Murom-Riazan. A cup of water from the healing well of Ain Jalut, filled to the very brim, but not overflowing.”

  “A tooth from the loathsome bog-beast of Zaradok,” added Ileana. “And a lock of hair from the head of a truthful man.”

  “In one turning of the moon?” The incredulous voice was that of Paula, whose knowledge of geography was extensive. “You can’t be serious! There’s no way a person could travel so far in so little time.”

  “You’ve set Sorrow up to fail,” said Tati in a whisper. “You never meant him to—”

  “Enough!” Ileana’s voice was imperious. “Perhaps you do not comprehend how rarely such an opportunity is offered—how privileged the two of you are, to be granted our approval for your union. If Sorrow’s will to succeed is strong enough, he will complete the quest. If not, he does not deserve our favor. Step back, Tatiana. Your audience is over. Jenica, you spoke out of turn. Leave us now.”

  I cleared my throat. “I have something else to say,” I croaked, trembling with nerves.

  “Be brief.” The forest queen had risen to her feet. She towered over me, eyes baleful. “You have offended me.”

  “I—it is possible I and my sisters may not return here after tonight,” I said. “Our cousin … He has a plan to get the secret of the portal from us. He intends to come through and use violence against you. We need to protect you: we owe you that, and much more. I think this may be our last visit. Even so, I can’t be sure we will be able to stop him—but we’ll do our best.”

  Around Dancing Glade there was total silence.

  “So … I want to say thank you. We have been so happy here, so honored. I know few human folk are granted the privilege of crossing over as we were, and the joy of meeting so many wonderful friends—” Across the circle, Ildephonsus broke into noisy sobs and flung his short arms around Stela’s neck. Sten was wiping his eyes on a crumpled gray rag. “There is no way we can thank you enough.” I was struggling now, my own tears welling.

  “Of course,” Ileana observed, “there is a way to thank us. Should Sorrow achieve his quest, you can agree to let your sister come across to us—to become one of us. That would balance the ledger perfectly. Or don’t you set such a high value on your lovely Tatiana?”

  “You know I do,” I said, blinded by tears. “I understand what you said, that everything has a price. But that’s too much to ask. Tati’s my sister. I love her. It’s too final.”

  “Death is final,” the forest queen said. “The felling of trees is final. What we ask of you is simply the recognition of change, Jena. Yours is a world of constant change. You must learn to change, too. You spend a great deal of time worrying about others: trying to put their lives right, trying to shape your world as you believe it should be. You must learn to trust your instincts, or you are doomed to spend your life blinded by duty while beside you a wondrous tree sprouts and springs up and buds and blooms, and your heart takes no comfort from it, for you cannot raise your eyes to see it.”

  Gogu made a sudden movement, as if in anger.

  Ileana regarded him gravely. “I’m growing weary of this audience,” she said. “Young man, have you something to say?”

  He stepped forward, bowed courteously, then lifted his hands and indicated his mouth and throat. Then he spread his arms wide, palms up, as if asking a question.

  “You’ve lost something?” Ileana queried. A new warmth had entered her tone.

  The young man nodded, pointing to his throat again.

  “Ah,” said Ileana. “Drǎguţa’s been up to her tricks again. Not content with tormenting the young lady, she’s decided to play games with you as well, frog boy. You want your voice back?”

  So that was it: not that he would not speak, but that he could not. A spell of silence. I had been less than fair to him.

  Ileana sighed. “The witch of the wood is overfond of such charms,” she said, snapping her fingers. One of her attendants came forward with a wand of plain willow, with a small star at the end—the kind of thing I would have loved as a child when I was playing at fairies. “You’ve been a model of control over the years, young man—so much of one that even your best friend failed to see what you really were. Kneel down!”

  He obeyed. The cloak he wore, my cloak, brushed the ground before Ileana’s throne. Anticipating magic, the crowd hushed again. The forest queen stretched out her arms, and the sweep of her vivid peacock garment caught the lights of Dancing Glade. “Speak again, young man,” she said quietly. “You have been silent long enough.” She touched Gogu gently on his bowed head with the tip of her wand.

  There was no sudden flash of light, no explosion, no flying through the air. The young man said, “Thank you,” and got to his feet. He tu
rned toward me, his eyes blazing. “Jena,” he said, “don’t you know me?”

  I stared at him. In my head, the mask of sweetness peeled back and I saw the monstrous reality beneath it. Don’t trust, don’t trust, don’t trust, a little voice repeated inside me. Don’t put your sisters at risk.

  “Jena, I’m Costi. Your cousin. You must recognize me.”

  “What—!” That was Paula.

  “But Costi’s dead.” That was Stela.

  “I’m not listening to this,” I said shakily. How dare he! How dare he come up with something so outrageous and offensive? “You can’t be Costi—he drowned. Cezar saw it with his own eyes. You’re just saying that to … You’re just—” I could not look at him: I could not bear the look on his face, wounded, disbelieving.

  “I’m not dead! I’m here. I am Costi—can’t you see? I’ve been with you all along, since the day you found me in the forest. Waiting—waiting until she lifted the spell, and I could be myself again, and tell you.”

  “A spell of silence,” Iulia breathed. “Like Sorrow—a ban on talking about who he was and what had happened to him. But Jena’s right. Cezar saw what happened. So did she. They saw Costi dragged under the water. He couldn’t have survived.” Despite her words, there was a note of wonder in her voice, as if she would be all too easily convinced.

  “The audience is concluded,” Ileana said. “Young man, I wish you well. Strike up the music! The queen wants to dance!”

  But for us, there was no more dancing. As the queen and her retinue headed back onto the sward, Tati crumpled to her knees. “Jena …,” she whispered, “my head hurts.… I don’t feel very well.…” A moment later she fell to the ground in a dead faint.

  “She’s hardly eaten a thing since the last time she saw Sorrow,” Paula said, crouching down to feel for Tati’s pulse. “And she’s overwrought. We should go home, Jena.”