by Andre Norton
“By the One! What if she is from Baltaz’s time? What I-we could learn from her.”
Tabler shook his head sadly. “Don’t hold any hopes, Wizard. We ruined all.”
“What do you mean,” asked Jariel.
“She stood encased in a substance that rose up from the edges of the plinth. It had the appearance of flames carved from ice.” Tabler cleared his throat, shifted on the ground. “Marian reached through a gap between the flames, to touch the woman’s hand. At that moment, the woman opened her eyes. When she tried to speak to us, the flames burst into life, whipping to strike Marian.” Tabler shuddered. “I can’t get out of my mind the look in the woman’s eyes and…”
“What?” urged Jariel when Tabler did not continue.
Horror tinged the scholar’s voice. “The flames began to consume the woman, though she tried to keep out of their reach. She screamed. Screamed for such a long time.” Tabler covered his face with his hands. “We were responsible. Our presence had broken some balance of power. We could do nothing to save her. Unable to watch her destruction, we ran. Eventually we found our way back here, only to discover we couldn’t leave.” Exhausted, Tabler leaned back on his elbows. “Since then we’ve waited, hoping for rescue.”
Minddancer, we must go see for ourselves.
Heart spirit calls?
Come, she commanded, in a voice he knew full well not to question. Jariel obediently moved with Pacer. Just before they passed the unseen barrier, Sanja grabbed his arm.
“By the One! What do you think you’re doing?”
Jariel looked from the wizard’s hand to his eyes. When Sanja released him, he said, “I am doing my job. You forget I represent Duval’s Honor. What threatens our homeland must be faced by the current Belldancer. I must see if the magic centered here poses threat to our people.”
Sanja released Jariel. “I’m sorry. You’re my friend. Sometimes I forget you are more. What would you have us do?” He gestured to the guardsmen.
Belldancer thought a moment. “Send a messenger back to tell Lord Davan what has occurred. Have him bring supplies and a Healer for Marian. On the chance Pacer and I can win them free, have them bring a Utter also. There’s no way they could ride.”
Minddancer!
“I come,” he said aloud so all could hear. Just as he crossed the barrier, Sanja called,
“Take one of the lanterns. It’ll be dark in those caves.”
Jariel nodded, picked one up, and followed Pacer into the dim interior. Pacer caught the scent of Marian and Tabler. It seemed that hours passed as they moved from one cave to the next, often having to backtrack. From above came a constant scraping of wings and claws. Once the lantern light struck just right and Jariel saw a mother bat cradling her young while it nursed at her breast. He found it odd that such an alien beast cared for its young as humans did. No wonder Scholar Tabler studied them.
Minddancer, I smell burnt flesh.
Though he strained to catch the odor, they had to walk several paces more before he picked it up. In the distance the dim orange light Tabler had described broke the darkness. Jariel wanted his hands free to meet any danger, so outside the chamber he set down the lantern. As they crossed into the cave, Pacer murmured, her mind voice a whisper,
My heart spirit pounds with the residue of power just released here. She padded over to the plinth and sniffed at its base.
Beware! She turned suddenly and leaped, knocking Jariel to the stone floor.
The walls flared with orange light. Whiplike flames of icy white curled up from the edges of the plinth. Behind the white fire the ashes of the dead woman stirred and became a miniature whirlwind.
About them sounded a hum, a deep bass note that vibrated through Jariel. Through his touch on Pacer’s body he could feel that thrumming. The light flaked away from walls and ceiling. Each sun-tinged mote spun in independent motion, casting its own light. Those gathered above the plinth formed an orange whirlwind. The tip of that sparkling mass spun down into the swirling body ashes, merging with them. Now the white-ice flames, edging the plinth, curved back from the magic storm, arching down like petals to almost touch the floor.
Jariel was aware of Pacer’s claws piercing his leather breeks, but the pain did not distract him from what he saw forming from the mixture of body ashes and orange sparks.
Bones. With each rotation of the magic force, muscles, organs, breasts, then skin were layered on that skeletal foundation.
The sound changed, turned into the pulsating beat of a heart. Now the chest wall of the re-formed woman heaved, then the rhythm grew steady. The last of the sparks and ashes drifted down over her, leaving behind sun-silver body hair. Her eyes opened and focused on him.
Jariel leapt to his feet and raced toward her. For perhaps a count of three breaths no flames showed and she was free. She ventured to move, to speak. Like striking snakes the petals of flame curled back into place, fire dancing about her. She screamed.
Pacer! We must do something. Jariel stretched his hands out to wrench her from the plinth.
With a leap Pacer grabbed the back of the man’s leather vest and jerked. No! Don’t touch her. Pacer reared to set both paws on Jariel’s chest, knocking him from his feet. Grief tinged her mind voice. There is nothing we can do. The cycle has begun again.
Dazed, Jariel asked, Cycle?
She’ll be consumed, then reformed repeatedly. Pacer sat back, tail flicking back and forth. Her gray-gold eyes met his. There is more at stake here than just the woman.
Jariel tried to concentrate, but the woman’s screams ripped through him. More important than preventing the death of a human being?
Pacer touched his face with her nose. That rare sign of affection comforted him. He breathed deeply and rolled on his side away from the plinth, refusing to look up. What are you trying to tell me? What did she say before the fire struck? Jariel suppressed the urge to wring Pacer’s neck. How could she answer him with a question now? It didn’t make much sense. She said to bring her her shadow. Pacer turned. Look behind you. He stood. Turned. Then froze. A shadow had formed on the wall, but not a human one. Across the rough stone the shadow’s contortions were painful to behold. A great rack of antlers nearly touched its back and dark wings fought to fly from the torment consuming it. What’s the shadow of an immortal Pierdon doing here? Memory stirred-what did he know-not enough! Jariel all but growled when Pacer spoke. What is its source?
Belldancer studied it. The Pierdon reared, shadow hooves slashing. From its back legs a fainter streak of darkness crossed the cave floor, flowed up the plinth to the woman! He cringed at the sight of her blackened flesh. Pacer, isn’t there anything we can do? At this moment, no. Now, what is the shadow’s source? She is. But why doesn’t she cast her own? At that moment memory clicked in and he knew.
No. It’s not possible. He knelt down, eyes level with Pacer’s. Is this the lost one the Pierdon have searched forall these years?
It is. One of their own has carried the burden of the woman’s shadow all this time. Now that the balance of power is broken Baltaz’s doom is upon them both. Their eyes met with perfect understanding. Jariel quoted one of her teachings back to her. The one who sees a problem is responsible for its solution. Pacer butted his shoulder,
Come on, let’s go.
Wait. I want to check something. Jariel walked over to the wall where the Pierdon’s shadow crawled. This whole thing is odd, but should a shadow be so thick?
Don’t touch it! Pacer sniffed the wall, nose almost touching the shadow. She growled. This is the outer shell of an evil more foul than you can imagine. Look at the hind legs.
A wave rippled up the shadow legs and on throughout the dark body. Where it moved, the shadow thickened. The wave then reversed its course, traveling back to the ashy remains from which it came. What does it mean?
It’s her life force. Now let’s get out of here.
Jariel paused long enough to pick up Tabler’s lantern. Quickly he followed Pacer. She
was difficult to see in this light. Because she was a camilacat, Pacer’s fur took on the coloration of the objects nearest her. Now she was all shades of gray. Tiny threads of red coursed up and down her guard hairs where the lantern light touched her.
Jariel came to a complete stop. By the great sea, Pacer, how am I to get past the barrier?
Pacer slowed, looked at him over her shoulder. It’s not as difficult a problem as you think.
I don’t understand, he said, walking beside her. There’s no difficulty in your passing through, but like Tabler and Marian, I won’t make it.
They hold no magic in their bones. That is why they’re bound.
Pacer, you’re not implying I’m like Wizard Sanja, are you? I cannot perform feats of power. He flinched at the tone of her reply.
No. But you are more like him than the Tablers of this world. Think, Jariel. What are you?
I am Duval’s Belldancer. I represent the honor of all her people, her justice and pride.
I am relieved to know your brain still works, she said dryly. Pacer let a few heartbeats pass, then said with a sigh. Haven’t you realized, yet, that as you move through the phases of the dance you bring to it what no other Belldancer in Duval’s history has?
Shaken by what she implied, Jariel paused. He rested his hand on her shoulder until she faced him. No. How could I? My training differed in no respect with those others who competed for Cavis Belldancer’s place when she retired.
Jariel, your lack of knowledge is the fault of this teacher. Forgive me. I assumed you knew.
Knew what? he asked, and sighed when Pacer cocked her head quizzically. No. Not another question.
In dance practice you only reach Warrior level by first moving through all the phases which come before it. Why?
You know all that, he said in exasperation.
Even so, repeat it.
If I didn’t, I would injure my body. But more importantly, my mind wouldn’t be prepared. Each movement, from first to last, has a corresponding mental and emotional exercise. If I’ve done it correctly, my body, mind and emotions function as one-in tune with and an extension of my surroundings. I am unified, whole. Only when I reach that state can I function as Belldancer, make the judgments so Duval’s Honor is maintained.
Pacer reared up, hooking her claws over the edge of his sword belt. Why else do I call you Minddancer, been willing to teach you the movements and thought patterns of the camilacats? No other Belldancer has reached this state of oneness with self and the world around you.
But we all were taught from childhood the dance would bring us to that point.
She freed him. Yes. A goal of perfection which broke the hearts of many who reached for it and found themselves lacking. Now, come. Begin such exercises as you can do walking. It’s late and the doom Baltaz placed on the Pierdon and the woman will not wait for us.
Pacer passed through the barrier. The setting sun etched her body with gold-red light. She turned to face him. Dance.
Jariel nodded. Needing room to dance he motioned Tabler, Marian, and the Healer now with them aside. Beyond the barrier he saw Lord Davan, Sanja, and several guardsmen. On the way back he had done the mental exercises, increased his pace to the point his muscles were loosened. Hands at his sides, he bowed his head, honoring the One. Slow in the beginning, he directed the muscles along his spine to move. Then he flexed the large muscles in first one leg, opposite arm, then the other leg and arm. The pattern must be whole.
In a distant part of his mind, Jariel monitored each flowing movement as if he still wore bells. Not a one must chime. Defeat was not an option.
He tested finger tendons, let the horror of the burning woman slide out of his mind onto the slick bones forming his hands. With slow grace he released that painful memory through fingertips. Relief, in the form of increased energy, suffused him.
The welcome voice/presence of Pacer intertwined with the flow of mind and body patterns he was creating.
Good. Will you join with me and dance the dance of mind and body?
Jariel merged with the wild, arrogant, yet loving personality of the camilacat. In his mind came the mental image he had of her, a spiral of brightness, awe inspiring in its grace and power. He followed-joining body, mind, and emotions in the pattern she created until he mirrored each movement.
All unknowing he surpassed her, became in truth Belldancer and led the way.
Pain! He staggered. The unity of the dance shattered. Jariel moaned at the loss. Pacer’s voice broke through the agony. Open your eyes. Immediately following her words, hands gripped his shoulders, then he was embraced.
“By the One,” shouted Sanja, “I’d like to know how you did that!”
Jariel leaned heavily on his friend, then pushed away. “Oh, it was just something my teacher suggested I try.” He was surprised to see full darkness, relieved only by firelight and the rising moons. The aroma of stew was like a lance point in his belly. “My lord,” he said, ignoring his hunger. He bowed to Davan standing a little beyond the wizard. “We have a problem.” In a few words he told what they had learned in the cave.
Awe tinged Davan’s voice, “All these many years the lost pair were only a two-day ride from Fort Duval.” He shook his head, then turned, calling out in his usual crisp, decisive manner,
“Marcan, bring our horses. Belldancer and I ride to the Pierdon’s valley.”
A beautiful voice interrupted. “That won’t be necessary, my lord. We are here.” Three Pierdon came into the firelight, two supporting a third between them. None were amazed they had not heard the Pierdon’s approaching hoof beats or sensed their presence. These immortals were the embodiment of pure magic and could pass unseen among a crowd. Their deer-shaped bodies bore the wings and tails of great birds and were as beautiful as their voices.
Pacer, why didn’t you warn me they were near? he asked, hurrying to meet them.
She laughed. I do not hold the power to know when they are near. I’m as head blind as the rest of you two-footers where the Pierdon are concerned.
Jariel bowed deeply before the trio. He had no idea that the color brown came in so many shades. Some of their feathers were even tinged with a bronzy green-brown. But when he met their eyes, he faltered. They were a blue so bright that it seemed to him he was pierced by three pairs of swords.
“Belldancer, I am the speaker Myatin. Indeed, you can help us, but for now may we bring our companion to the fire? Nytira needs warmth.”
Jariel stepped aside, gestured for them to precede him and saw on the ground three shadows, one a woman writhing in torment. Instinctively he called to Pacer. Look, the shadow.
I see, Minddancer.
It’s thick, the weight’s so great the Pierdon can hardly walk.
And it will grow heaver, gaining more substance until…
Jariel was surprised to hear hesitancy in her voice. He had never known her to be unsure about anything. Until? Instead of answering him, she headed toward the fire. Not pushing the issue, he followed her.
Lord Davan crouched down by Nytira, who lay near the fire. “Is there anything we can do for him?” he asked.
“Yes. You can lend us your Belldancer.” said Myatin.
Davan met Jariel’s eyes and at the slight nod said, “He’s yours.”
Myatin asked, “Jariel, would you introduce me to your teacher?”
Jariel touched the big cat lightly, wondering how the Pierdon knew. “This is Pacer, much more than teacher.”
“It is good you know that.” Myatin touched noses with the camilacat, then reached out and nuzzled Jariel’s forehead. “Pacer agrees to help us, too. But you are both tired. Eat while we tell you what we know.”
Sanja brought them both food and drink, then sat down beside them. He leaned over and whispered, “Why do you get all the excitement?”
“Its my nose.” Jariel said, pulling on it. “It’s so long, it’s always getting me into things.”
You can say that again, said Pacer.
Enough! The Pierdon waits.
Jariel apologized, “I’m sorry, Myatin.”
“No, do not. Laughter causes even fear to flee for a space of time.”
“Please,” said Lord Davan, “We’d like to hear what you can tell us of the problem facing us.”
“When Baltaz was defeated in the War of Sorrows, she was forced to free the Pierdon she had imprisoned along with their human counterparts. It was not until too late that we realized one of our kind was still missing. Many years after the war we found him wandering in the Hills of Bramare Duval. He had lost all memory of where he had been and only knew his shadow-mate was somewhere here in the North.” Myatin nodded in Davan’s direction. “The lord of that time gave us Blue Valley for our own. The Pierdon who made their home there continued the search. For two hundred years Nytira’s human shadow remained a light burden.”
“Until,” Sanja exclaimed, “Tabler and Marian broke the balance of power.”
“You are correct, Wizard.”
“Will you,” Sanja asked with great humility, “allow me to watch you unravel Baltaz’s spell?”
“I am sorry, that will not be possible. We cannot break it, for it is warded against us. If we should get too close to the barrier, the spell will unleash its full doom. Look at it. See, it already knows we are near.”
With the rest of the group, Jariel looked. The barrier now glowed with a nacreous yellow light. He subvocalized to Pacer, Who sees the problem gets it. Shall we?
Yes.
“Myatin, what would you have us do?”
“First tell me all you know.” The Pierdon listened intently to all Jariel said. “The wave you saw travel both ways was not just her life force, but Nytira’s as well. Her rebirth is at the price of his life. When she burns, he suffers. When she dies, Nytira learns of death. If she and his shadow are ever retrieved, the human and the Pierdon will be forever changed. She will experience a touch of immortality, he humanity, and ultimately death.
“But that is not what is important here and now. If they are not rescued and soon, there will be let loose on this land indestructible entities.”