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Time Before the Wolf

Page 16

by RR Turock

Chapter 16: Love and Life-learned Lessons

  We returned to Asaph's tower silently. The people had hung decorations on tight ropes between the tower, palace, and neighboring roofs. Everyone filled the streets, dancing, singing, and celebrating. Darkness was starting the fall and the people were piling into the main square before the palace gate and balcony.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the side of the window. Swallowing, my fist clenched over chest. My heart wouldn't stop racing and the sweat made my fingers slippery. Taking a deep breath in, I tried to calm myself.

  Asaph walked beside me, pensive. I opened my mouth to say something, but shut it when I couldn’t find any words. In a few moments, I would walk along the decorations hanging between the palace and us, signaling the beginning of the performance. If my crew was alive and they saw me, the fireworks would begin.

  All the while, Asaph would keep the guards from interrupting our show. There was a chance this wouldn’t work out. We may need to improvise a lot more than we bargained for. I wanted to say something encouraging. There had to be something reassuring that I could say or do.

  My company seemed to want to say something also, but held back. We waited a few moments in silence before I sighed. “Just say what you want to say.” He glanced at me, he still debating what he wanted to say. I looked him in the eyes. “What is it, already?”

  He leaned forward, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. Wrapping an arm around me, his grasp on my hand tightened. Taken by surprised, I stumbled into his kiss. Unable to breathe, I consented to him. Only after a moment did he pull away, leaning his forehead on mine.

  He whispered. “Let’s changed the world. Together. Don’t do anything crazy on your own, okay?” I closed my eyes, holding onto the moment for as long as I could. Asaph whispered more firmly. “Promise me you won’t do anything dangerous.”

  The sounds outside started to calm; the signal it was time I left. I took the opportunity to kiss him back gently and pull over my fur hood and mask. He would have his answer after tonight. I couldn’t promise him anything now. I could feel his eyes focused seriously on me.

  Looking over my shoulder, I winked at him and started scaling up to the top of our little tower. I reached the rope and took a breath in. I wore the tunic Mother made me, with the wolf mask and fur over it, tightening at my waist, and a wolf tail pinned to me. Still wearing the leather khakis bound at the shin, I stepped out on the rope, putting Father’s pipe to my lips. Just before starting, I whispered, “It’s time I change.”

  At first, I breathed a slow, gentle tune; just barely loud enough to hear. As I slowly approached the center of the rope, the music was louder and fast, catching attention. Now, the people below pointed and gawked at me, stopping their own musical sounds. I played a classic Karrazard tune. Fast, slow, three breaths in, two breaths out. I stepped lightly, walking dangerously on the rope.

  Any moment now. The moment the first firework goes off, the performance begins. Please let there be someone out there! Someone! There was a long pause as I waited for the first signal. My heartbeat stopped. Was there anyone out there?

  Suddenly three lights rupture from the ground into the air, sparkling brightly on their way up. The rest of the fireworks went up, exploding in the sky. Bursts of ground-level fire lit in each corner of the square. The fire breathers danced with distinct movement, breathing flames into the night.

  Balancers, tossing off their ordinary cloaks, spun out in the crowds, lifting their poles and the bowls on the poles into the air. The players encroached on the crowd, daring them to join our festivities. The performance wasn't an expression of politics. It wasn't hate or anger. It was love and joy, and everyone could feel it. Drum players dressed in playful masks started on queue and other trumpeters sung out, only falling silent for me to take lead.

  Tears pouring down my face, I began with my music again. I danced around on the rope, motioning to instruct the performers how to move. From the tops of the buildings around the square and palace, jugglers and dancers recited their talents before all of Karrazard.

  The performance entranced the crowd, until they danced and harmonized to our rhythm. We sang louder and louder. My heart raced as we reached the climax of song. At the loudest, highest, most joy fill portion, the song cut off, gone without ending.

  A universal silence overcame us as each took a breath in awe. Everyone’s attention fell on me. I lifted my chin, motioning widely. “I am Piper C’lyris Kaleng. I am the daughter of the exiled Prince and the inheritor of the Piper’s Song. Today,” my eyes searched the crowds and looking to the palace. The King, with Deion beside him, had come rushing to see my announcement. Dressed in tradition, both men watched me intensely. I continued, “I will show you the heir my father wanted to give the power to.”

  I paused for effect, and all the people murmured very quietly among themselves. As I scanned the crowds, I made eye contact with Diomedes, who stood, battle ready among a small batch of soldiers. He seemed different. Less angry. Less power-hungry. My eyes landed on Mother as I spoke. “He wanted the power to always and forever return to its rightful heir. He saw a great future in the heir. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, we walk in a valley of shadows on a road of needles. Not one of us alone can change that.”

  I looked back at Asaph, who watched me, smiling charismatically. Feeling confident, I continued. “But together we can change that. We can walk until the end and see that shining, lush future. We are the city of Karrazard. We have faced every terror and won.

  “We are the city of uncompromised principle. The heir is someone who knows the city, who knows the alms, the labors, the pains. The heir is someone who wants to live in a better place with better days. The heir—” I looked to Grandfather. He nodded slowly, smiling under his wrinkles and snow-touched hair. Finally, I looked Deion in the eyes. “—is Karrazard.”

 

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