Blood for the Dancer

by Dallas Mullican

  “Shit. That’s it?” He pointed at the contents within the room.

  “Not all, only a fraction. But as you can see, my knowledge is not based solely on guesses and secondhand information.” Hadraniel took a seat at one end of the table.

  “So what’s next?” asked Dustan.

  “You recall the vision?”

  His gaze made Dustan uneasy, like a god looking into his soul.

  “Yes. I didn’t for a while, but now it’s clear.”

  “Good. You must find the Obelisk. I know only that it lies beyond the Great Tree and the Unknown.”

  “The Great Tree, the thing in the bubble? Big as a planet?” Dustan extended his hands and held them far apart, immediately feeling a fool for doing so.

  “A crude description,” said Hadraniel with a grin. “But yes. You must take Kyra there and beyond. The Obelisk sits at the very edge of the realm—of all realms.”

  “You know nothing of the way?” asked Kyra.

  “I can lead you to the portal that will take you from this world to the Veil, a field guarding the Great Tree’s dimension. I learned much from the spheres. My past knowledge of the spirit realm and the word of those who escaped more recently supplemented my information.” Hadraniel touched long elegant fingers to his lips. “No one has ever journeyed to the Great Tree or beyond it. I cannot know if it is even possible. Nevertheless, you must try. We always believed no creature of any world could pass through the Veil.”

  “I guess that’s why it’s called the Unknown,” said Lailah, blushing when Hadraniel grinned at her.

  “I must warn you, Aamon and Zaphkiel surely hold some of the spheres as well. What knowledge they have is unknown, but they have located an alternate path to the Obelisk, though they have not discovered a way to use the knife, and the Great Tree remains hidden to them.”

  “So we may have done all this, and still have to travel gods know how much farther, only to be turned back? And if we make it, angels and demons may be waiting for us?” Frustration, an ever-close companion, ate into Dustan’s stomach.

  “I have found a way to circumvent the law. In theory.” Hadraniel glanced at Kyra. “Your parents were amazing spirits—brave and noble—with a greater joy for life than any I have ever known. Their love and sacrifice may have fashioned a way to breach the Veil.” His gaze shifted to Dustan. “As well as an unintended consequence of Aamon’s meddling.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Kyra. Dustan’s pinched face made clear he shared her confusion.

  “No creature indigenous to a realm can cross the Veil,” said Hadraniel, as though the statement made the concept clear.

  Dustan and Kyra glanced at each other, both shaking their heads in unison. Lailah had laid her cheek on the table and fallen asleep.

  “Neither of you meet such a definition.” He nodded to Kyra. “You are born of demon and angel—not a creature natural to the spirit realm.” His penetrating green eyes turned to Dustan. “You are both human and spirit—a combination unknown in either dimension. You are both unique. I hope this quality will fool the Veil.”

  “But you can’t know. Not for certain.” Kyra pressed her palms onto the tabletop.

  “No. This strategy has taken many millennia to unfold, but in the end, it does rely on conjecture. I believe it is wise and studied conjecture.” He flourished a hand toward the glowing spheres. “Still, the possibility remains it will not prove successful.”

  “So you don’t even know if the war will invade the In Between or any other realm. We are risking our lives, our souls, for something that may never happen.” Dustan pushed from the table, the chair tipping to the floor behind him.

  “Would you take the chance? Leave all the realms at risk? The spirits have discovered so many, your human world included. They will find more, and eventually this one. The Great Tree itself. Zaphkiel and Aamon are not their ancestors. They will not be content with ruling a single realm, no matter which proves victorious. And what of those to come? Those who harbor even greater ambitions?”

  “Kyra is spirit. She understands this world and its struggle. I’m human. I may be part spirit, but in here…” Dustan rapped his chest. “In my heart, I’m human.”

  “I know. You hold tight to your mortal self. Even here amongst us, you still see us as human.” Dustan squinted at the man. Obviously, he plucked much from his mind during those dream incursions. “There remains much power in the human will. Do not take it lightly, and never forget you are not spirit alone.” Hadraniel’s grave expression diluted some of Dustan’s ire.

  “We’re both scared…we’ve been through so much,” said Kyra, stepping to entwine her arm with Dustan’s.

  “I know, child. I wish there were some other way, an easier path. No time remains, and we must act now, employing the only route known to us. If I knew another way, I would have employed it long ago. If I could do what must be done myself, I would. Without regret or hesitation.”

  “You expect the same of us?” Dustan glared at him.

  “I understand your fear and your resentment. I do not blame you. The burden is unfair. So much sacrifice. Both your parents gave their lives for this purpose.”

  Kyra had to restrain Dustan.

  “Don’t you dare evoke our parents to compel us,” he said, fuming.

  Hadraniel looked away, but not before Dustan caught the guilt in his eyes. The simple act robbed him of all divinity. This was not a god, but a creature possessed of self-doubt, confusion, and fear. Dustan found the realization oddly comforting.

  “You’re afraid,” said Dustan.

  Hadraniel sighed and let his lofty demeanor slip away. “Of course I am. I have played the wise, strong leader for so long, sometimes I wish most to walk into the Moat and never return. Allow someone else to shoulder the responsibility of keeping the hopes of countless souls alive.”

  “You’re like us. Thrust into a role you didn’t choose.” Dustan relaxed, moved by Hadraniel’s confession.

  “Yes, I suppose so.” He stared at them. “I have found over my many years, it is not how we come to our purpose, but what we do once there. You are our only hope, but the decision is yours and yours alone. None can coerce you.”

  Dustan looked to Kyra, who nodded with grim determination. “We’ll leave in the morning.”

  30

  Faces on the Moons

  Dustan and Kyra stood at the edge of the city, staring into the distance. The Great Tree was not visible. In his dream, the celestial structure hovered within sight of the In Between like a giant moon; but in reality, it did not reside in this realm at all. The portal leading to the Tree lay hidden beyond the horizon.

  Hadraniel and Lailah escorted them as far as the northern road. Unaligned had settled the countryside as well as the city, and Hadraniel assured them they would be welcomed at any home. Most creatures in the realm were benign, and the few dangerous ones kept deep to the forests. The first leg of their journey should prove uneventful.

  Lailah hugged them both, reluctant to let go. She gazed up at Dustan with deep, brown eyes, the unspoken plea and affection making her seem every bit the little girl she appeared. It surprised him how attached he had grown to the changeling. Not only for the benefit of her powers, but also for her devoted company. They finally tore themselves away after several more embraces and goodbyes.

  The road wound smoothly through a countryside populated with rolling hills and open fields. Blue-green grass rippled in a gentle breeze while brightly colored birds flew overhead. They passed the occasional traveler headed to the plaza or cathedral and shared a word here and there. Elaborate mansions akin to those within the city sat on the hillsides for the first few days before giving way to smaller cottages.

  “Why do some live in big, fancy homes and others in small ones?” asked Dustan. “They don’t use money. Everyone could live like kings if they wished.”

  “In the spirit realm, a kind of caste system based on rank exists. Here, it’s simply preference, everyone livi
ng wherever they like. There are no rules and no laws. None are needed.” Kyra shrugged.

  Dustan stared at her for a long moment.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  Kyra blushed. “Where did that come from?”

  “I just wanted to say it.” Dustan ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “But I see you as a human woman. For one second I would love to see through your eyes. It’s unfair you can see me as I am, both my spirit and my human forms, but I can’t see what you truly look like.”

  “It is odd. I would think with your spirit half dominant, you would. I suppose a lifetime existing solely in the human realm keeps your mind cemented to what’s always been familiar.”

  Dustan grinned. “You sound like Geras. He always said I was an insect trying to understand Shakespeare.”

  After a week’s hike, and rain falling in a cold drizzle, they decided to take shelter. A picturesque house of stone bricks and thatch roof appeared off the road. The unaligned who resided there, Kandral and Manruk, welcomed them genially. The interior reminded Dustan of the homes along the Delta back in Mississippi. Rustic wooden chairs sat before a warm fire, rugs covering the stone floors. Sparse décor adorned the living room—paintings of landscapes, one of the central cathedral, vases and small marble statues. Globes of jade luminosity hovered in the corners. Kandral smiled and bid them take a seat.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” said Dustan.

  “You are most welcome. We don’t get many visitors this far out from the city.” Kandral, tall and stout, wore his blonde hair short. His kind cyan eyes glinted and complemented an amiable smile. His simple robe lacked embellishment, pale gold with a white collar and belt.

  Manruk, shorter than Kandral by a head, and thin, tossed a log into the fire and sat back. His black hair fell over a broad forehead. Ample lips twitched as though always on the verge of laughing. A dark burgundy robe with gold trim hung to the floor and covered his fingers.

  “We haven’t been here long. Still getting used to things. Like it better out of the hubbub. We go into the city once in a while, but mostly keep to ourselves.”

  “You haven’t been here long? Where were you before this?” asked Kyra.

  Kandral averted his eyes. “In the spirit realm. We were trapped in the Horde’s domain and forced to hide away in the caves.”

  “Awful,” said Manruk. “We couldn’t so much as stick a head up without a demon there to lop it off. Scores of us all packed in tighter than fleas on a nandi’s ass. Sickness ran through the place. The energy grew thin, and we couldn’t heal or feed. Many died of disease or starved to death. Nasty way to go. They wasted away. Nothing anyone could do about it.”

  Kandral reached over and took Manruk’s hand. “When we finally decided to run, we lost a friend every day to creatures or patrols. Sad thing, if they hadn’t slowed them, all of us would have died. Manruk’s tougher than he looks, saved me many times.”

  “Don’t let the big goof fool you. He’s pretty deadly with a tree branch.” Manruk smiled, rubbing Kandral’s arm.

  “Fighting wasn’t an option. The creatures we might beat back sometimes, but the demons…too strong. We saw friends and family taken away in chains, others destroyed on the spot.” Kandral shivered with the memory.

  “Hope they never find this place. Can’t go through it again,” said Manruk.

  That night, Dustan and Kyra tossed in unrestful sleep. She yelled out more than once, and he held her tight, cooing everything was all right. Images of Kandral and Manruk amongst their kin, struggling and dying, blended with all the horror Dustan had seen. He hated what the war did to those only wishing to live in peace, but more so, he despised his own weakness. Reluctant to admit the truth, even to himself, he wanted to take Kyra and flee to some place far away. Find a realm hidden so deep the war could never touch them. Did such a place exist?

  They left with warm embraces the following morning and walked the day and night through. Both were quiet, deep in thought. As a chill crept into the air as they came upon a gentle coursing brook encircled by a lush meadow and shaded by sturdy trees bearing thick, wide leaves. They lay beneath the branches and gazed up at the night sky. Two silver moons hung above like the eyes of a god peering down.

  “I thought you might punch Hadraniel when he mentioned our parents.” Kyra snuggled against Dustan’s chest.

  “It was a low blow.” He ran his hand along the supple leather of her jacket and clasped her fingers.

  “It hurts to admit, but I can’t recall mine very well. They took me to Hadraniel not long after I was born.”

  “I know you don’t come out, or whatever, as children, but you have close connections.”

  Kyra giggled. “Yes. Children stay close to their parents for some time after birth. In theory, we could exist on our own, but that rarely happens. I was lucky to have Hadraniel and all the unaligned to care for me. We still have to learn and grow in maturity. Spirits are basically adult children after birth. We have the bodies and abilities of adults, but the minds of children.”

  “Kind of like you were adopted.”

  “In a way, but harder because I knew my parents loved me and wanted to be with me. I remember the day they left the In Between. They hugged me, told me to listen to Hadraniel, and left. Just like that, they were gone. I never saw them again.”

  A tiny bird with bright red wings and an orange breast alighted on the branch above them. Curious eyes gazed down from above a short curved beak. It sang a song of long somber notes met by a faint howl from deep in the forest.

  “Since the storm, I’ve tried not to think about my parents. But I know now I need to. I have to remember.” He sat up, his back to a tree, Kyra’s head in his lap. “My mum had such a difficult life. My da too, but more so Mum. She never let it show, stronger than I could ever hope to be. Day after day, toiling away to keep us fed and housed in the dump we lived in. I was never grateful to either of them. Too busy getting into trouble, I never helped or did anything to lessen her misery. She kept her faith through it all, always believed there was a purpose, a reason for everything.” Dustan shook his head.

  “You were only a kid.” Kyra caressed his arm with soft, gentle fingers. “Have you considered she might have been right? Look how everything has unfolded, so many things lining up just right. One event goes a fraction differently and all is altered.”

  Dustan peered at her, unsure if the comment made him feel angry or more helpless. “I guess. But if so, we never had a choice. Neither did our parents. I can’t believe it. That they only died so I could do this.”

  “We have a choice. So did they. Beings evolve with certain traits, making them most suited to a task. The dog cannot reach the tree top, the eagle can; still, the eagle must choose to do so.”

  “Now you really sound like Geras.” A thin smile traced his lips. “Regardless, they died, and I never thanked them…for any of it.”

  “You were a child when they lived. Don’t expect you could have acted with greater maturity. Experience defines how we will react. Your father’s death, the poverty…you were angry and lashing out.”

  “I know, but I should have seen it. Given the situation, I should have grown up faster. Worked and helped. At least I could have shown Mum how much I loved and appreciated her. When I found them in the spirit realm, I thought maybe I had a second chance. The moment was too brief. So many things I wanted to say.” A tear leaked from his eye.

  Kyra reached up and wiped the tear from his face. “One clear memory of my mother and father sticks in my mind. I snuck into the room where they were meeting with Hadraniel. I don’t recall what they were doing, making plans I guess. They all leaned over the map spread out on the table, pointing and talking so seriously. A partition stood at the back of the room, I wiggled in behind it and hid.”

  “I know you were the same size you are now, but I can’t help but picture you as a little girl creeping around spying.” Dustan laughed.


  “That’s how I felt.” She grinned, but grew solemn as the memory returned. “Hadraniel left the room. My father placed his hands on my mother’s shoulders. They stood there gazing into each other’s eyes. I could see all their torment and longing, the unconditional love they shared for one another. I think back on it now and I’m amazed at their strength—to risk such a love because they valued all life and believed it their fate to fight for it.” Kyra rested her cheek on his chest, lazy fingers gliding across his muscles. “Hadraniel was right, harsh in how he said it, but right nonetheless. This is more important than any one life, or a thousand. Kandral and Manruk showed us the face of what will happen if we fail, and our parents gave us an example of what it all means. So much loss and horror, countless ages of death and enslavement, but it’s a drop in the bucket compared to what will come.”

  “Bringing us together may offer a chance for the worlds, but it also places them in greater danger.” Dustan’s face dropped, fear in his voice. Kyra raised her head and stared at him, appearing surprised by the statement. “If the decision comes, save the realms or lose you, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  She lifted his chin with a finger. “I feel the same. But if we deny our destinies and turn our backs on all those lives, who will we be afterwards? We have today. Let’s love enough for a lifetime.”

  Kyra pressed him onto his back. She knelt beside him and shrugged off her jacket before leaning in to kiss him deeply. His tongue found hers as they danced within hungry mouths. Dustan’s fingers laced beneath her shirt and slid it upward. Kyra fought with his belt, whipping it from the loops. Clothes found the brook, the meadow, and the low limbs of the trees. Dustan reached up and cupped her breasts, twirling index fingers around the nipples. Kyra, straddling him, arched her back and moaned.

  Her body undulated in a steady rhythm. Dustan’s hands went to her hips, rocking her faster. When she erupted the first time, her fingernails dug into the smooth skin of his stomach. The sweet sting made him harder. He flipped Kyra onto her back. With his knees between her legs, her thighs resting on his, he entered her with urgency. Thrusting in time with the kisses upon her neck and breasts, his body merged with hers, becoming one form.