Liseli went into the bedroom and took off her sandals, dress, and necklace, then crawled into bed. By the time Russ arrived with the food she was sound asleep.
* * *
They spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon in the bedroom, by themselves.
Russ told Liseli about his conversation with Currun, and about what he’d seen in the little ivy covered building the day before. She wondered why the building hadn’t been locked yesterday. But that wasn’t important; what was more important to her was the story of how Byzauki and Ilia died, even after Alisiya promised them that they were the ones. She didn’t like that. Alisiya had promised her things . . . not that she’d really believed her at all at any time . . . no . . . .
“Currun seemed pretty cut up about his sister, he blames Leeton and I think that’s why they were trying to use Eliasha’s parents to fight him,” Russ said, as they lay in bed.
“You think that’s why they brought us here?”
“Makes sense.”
“I don’t like it. They could’ve told us if they wanted us to get involved.”
“Maybe it’s different this time.”
“How?”
“I dunno. Maybe they’re trying to decide if we’re . . . impostors. That’s what Currun called it.”
“I still don’t like it.”
He agreed, but they still didn’t know what to do about it. They couldn’t just leave — where would they go? At least here they were being fed and housed and treated like respected guests. Out there, alone, they had been wandering in the wilderness. The possibility that the Erykumyn expected something dangerous and grandiose in return for their hospitality was worrying, but that was only a guess. What was certain was that they were trapped somewhere far from anything they knew. This wasn’t home. They were well aware of that.
She never did tell him about Alisiya, though. She felt as though she should, but every time she was about to, something held her back. Everything to do with the Child felt like a bad dream, the kind of dream you didn’t want to tell anyone about if they’d been in it. Nothing could happen to Russ unless she let it, though . . . isn’t that what Alisiya had said? So what good would it do to tell him about it? It wasn’t like it put him in any more or less danger . . . .
Liseli did let herself wonder, at one point, as she watched Russ sleep and absently brushed her fingers through his hair, what it would be like to be completely “free” of him. Ever since she’d met him he’d been taking up her thoughts; whether she was happy with him or mad at him, thought she loved him or hated him, he was still constantly there. It was like an obsession, really. Surely that’s what Alisiya was referring to with all that talk of freeing her mind and clearing her senses.
Maybe it wasn’t healthy to be so wrapped up in another person. It was confusing and troublesome when she thought about it that way. . . . All she really knew for sure was that the idea of no more Russ — no more Russ at all — made her feel sad, and scared, and very, very alone.
Chapter 16 ~ Rag Doll, part 2
The Ryl Itolinai Dancers promenaded out onto the patio in front of the pavilion and bowed gracefully, to the accompaniment of musicians behind them.
The table had been removed from the pavilion and chairs were set up in rows for the Erykumyn family and honored guests. There were quite a few guests, whom Arlic had introduced to Russ and Liseli as dignitaries from Varaneshe, the northern seacoast, and the mountain villages; as well as advisors, politicians and “well respected” families from both Elharan and Varaneshe. Pillari had taken that moment to impress upon them again the great honor they were being granted, to have seats not only on pavilion, but in the front row with the family themselves. Liseli began to suspect that this was less an honor and more a safeguard against the other people telling Russ and Liseli too much. She smiled.
Currun wasn’t there, and Eliasha looked subdued as she sat next to her grandfather in the two largest seats in the middle.
Other guests were seated on the grounds around the patio. The dancers came through the hedge. Ryl Itolinai came out last, prancing along down the line until he stopped at the middle with a flourish. He was tall and wiry, wearing skin-tight black leggings and a flowing silvery blue blouse.
“Welcome, Lord Mayor Erykumyn.” He bowed low. “Welcome, Lords and Ladies, royal guests,” he continued, then prattled off a list of names as people on the pavilion nodded and preened, graciously. Russ and Liseli went unmentioned, which Liseli realized on reflection she was happy about. They could be the mystery guests; everyone, including Itolinai, would have to guess who they were.
Finally the dance master got through his greetings and clapped his hands together. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we present for you the tragic story of Thyvid and Zalisha, forbidden love and jealous passion.”
There was polite applause.
“Welcome, our players:” He went on to introduce each character, as each dancer stepped out and did a little move that was, Liseli supposed, indicative of their character if you understood Alisiyan dance. The musicians also played different themes for each one. “Azmanvalli, God of Fire and Lord of Sun,” Ryl intoned, indicating toward a man in a fiery red, orange, and yellow costume as the music swelled intensely. “He, the jealous husband who smote down his wife’s lover!
“And Zalisha, Lady of Life, Goddess of Creation and Mother of Adayzjia the Earth.” A woman in a purple and emerald dress stepped forward while the music played a lilting melody of spring flowers. “She, who defied the Sun God and took Thyvid as her lover!”
Russ yawned, and Liseli nudged him, frowning and shaking her head slightly. Ryl Itolinai had an annoying, carnival barker way of speaking and moving around, but she felt it was a little early for Russ to act bored.
Itolinai went on to introduce Thyvid, the hapless human who got caught up in the feud between Azmanvalli and Zalisha. Then Aldia, Goddess of the Night, Lady and Prisoner of the Moon, and her brother Auchai, God of Water and Lord of Rain; the two eldest children of the gods, who had wed each other. Itolinai reveled in the shock and scandal of such an act, and detailed the rift it caused between Azmanvalli and Zalisha. He told of how Azmanvalli banished Aldia to the sky at night, and how Auchai and Azmanvalli then fought each other season after season, with thunder, lighting, floods, rainstorms, and droughts.
“And now—” Itolinai waved his hands rhythmically as the music flowed into a haunting melody like the wind brushing through the pines, down across the plains and out over the waves of the sea, “—the favored child of Azmanvalli, Goddess of Air, Keeper of Paradise, the Beautiful Breeze . . . Alisiya.”
Out stepped a dancer in a gauzy pale blue dress with ribbons of fabric flowing out behind her, and Liseli looked away. It’s only an actress, silly. But her hands felt heavy, and she didn’t applaud with the rest as the dancer retook her place.
Russ noticed her looking toward him. “What?”
“Nothing.” She returned her gaze to Itolinai. He went on down the line of the children of Azmanvalli and Zalisha, six in all, and then he introduced the three children of Aldia and Auchai. They all came out as one group — Byzauki of War; a man in regal tones of black, silver and dark maroon. Ricalli of Shadows and Darkness; a man in skin-tight black leotard, waving a black cape around his shoulders as he danced and kicked the air. Osvira, Goddess of Love, Pleasure, and Fey Passion; a woman in red and purple, with feathers in her hair and heavy, Cleopatra-like paint around her eyes.
“And finally,” said Itolinai, stepping out in front again, “Erykumi, son of Zalisha and Thyvid, Servant to the Powers.” He whipped something out from underneath his voluminous shirt and held it up. It was a cloth doll, like a rag doll, only made from silk and velvet. Liseli almost laughed out loud at the pompous way Itolinai introduced the baby prop, but she just smiled.
The dancers filed away through the hedge, and Itolinai followed after them with some parting words. Then the dance began, with a short “prologue” about the Aldia and Auchai. Liseli w
asn’t able to follow the events of the play very well, as Itolinai no longer narrated and the whole story was told through the music and the movements of the dancers. It was something like ballet, but really more like modern dance or rhythmic gymnastics. She appreciated the artistry, but without the summary of events and characters she wouldn’t have known what was going on.
Russ seemed a little less appreciative of the abstract playacting, shifting in his seat often and stifling yawns. Liseli wasn’t surprised. At least he was trying a little, it seemed, and keeping it subtle enough so that the others around them weren’t distracted by his boredom. After a little while he reached over and put a hand on her thigh, but she picked it up and returned it to his lap without breaking her gaze away from the dance.
When it was finally over (Thyvid had apparently been burned to death by Azmanvalli, and Erykumi had grown up to be played by Itolinai, who danced around with Byzauki, Ricalli, and Osvira a lot) the actors lined up again to receive the applause. Arlic stood and Itolinai walked up the steps, bowing before him while sweating profusely. Then Arlic shook his hand and congratulated him on an excellent show.
“If you please, sir—” Itolinai bowed again, “—I have a gift for Miss Eliasha, on behalf of the entire dance troop.”
“Of course,” Arlic said, and Itolinai turned to Eliasha, who nodded and smiled, her subdued look gone completely.
“My Lady, please accept this gift for Aysha’s Day,” Itolinai said, as the actress who had played Zalisha came walking up the stairs bearing the Erykumi doll. It looked even fancier close up, with a detailed baby’s face embroidered on the front and folds of petticoats underneath the outer garment.
“Thank you.” Eliasha received it, cradling it like a real baby in her arms. “And thank you for the lovely play, you were all just wonderful.”
“Thank you, Miss Eliasha, for watching us today.” Itolinai and “Zalisha” bowed low, then retreated down the stairs.
As soon as they were gone, Eliasha turned to Ivira and held out the doll. The little girl had been watching the doll change hands with a yearning look, and Eliasha smiled. “Would you like to look after baby Erykumi for me, Ivira?”
“Yes!” Ivira took the doll eagerly. “Thank you, Eliasha.”
“Be careful. Babies are fragile things,” Eliasha counseled with a serious expression.
“I will!” Ivira exclaimed. “May I be excused?” Eliasha nodded. Ivira ran down the steps out onto the patio, dancing in circles with the doll.
Gradually everyone stood, and the Erykumyn began to converse with the guests on the pavilion. Russ and Liseli drifted a little to the side, ignored by the rest, though Liseli imagined that the Varaneshan dignitaries glanced at them from time to time. Finally Eliasha broke away from her admirers and came toward them. Liseli slipped one hand around Russ’s arm.
“So, did you enjoy our dance? Do you have such beautiful dancing in your world?” Eliasha asked brightly, looking between them with her hands folded.
“Similar,” Liseli said. “But it was very nice. Very good.”
“Yeah.” Russ nodded.
“Good! I’m glad you liked it.” Eliasha’s smile threatened to widen. “Later today we shall have to go out and show you the Market. The streets are alive today with peddlers, shows, dance and acting troops like the Ryl Itolinai Dancers (though they are the largest and finest in the land) and all manner of interesting things. I’m sure you have never seen the likes of the Elharan Market in your world.”
Liseli thought to tell her about carnivals, fairs, shopping malls, and Las Vegas, but decided to just say, “I’m sure I haven’t. I’ll look forward to that.”
“Me too,” said Russ.
“Good. We’ll have to do that, then.” Eliasha paused, still smiling. The cheeriness faded from her eyes for a moment, then returned with determination. “Well. I’m . . . sorry about this morning. I should have warned you that . . . well, I was hoping my family would be less . . . outgoing in their reactions.”
“It’s alright.” Liseli shrugged, still holding onto Russ’s arm. “It’s, um, really, it’s the most valuable gift I’ve ever received. You really shouldn’t have given it away, though. If you change your mind and want it back—”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.” Eliasha shook her head. “Never take back a gift you have given freely.”
Liseli looked at the ground, her mind rushing involuntarily to Alisiya’s whisperings in her ear to free herself from Russ. That was more than taking away a gift. But she told herself that she didn’t have to feel guilty because she hadn’t listened . . . not really. She looked back up. “Alright. Thank you. I will remember you and your parents when I look at it.”
“No, remember that Russ gave it to you,” insisted Eliasha, and Liseli smiled faintly.
“It’s okay,” said Russ. “Consider it a gift to both of us from you. That’s what it is, really.”
Eliasha looked down, swinging her arms behind her back. “You might wonder if anything of my mother’s can be considered a gift to anyone. But I’m glad you like it.”
Liseli was about to reply, but one of Arlic’s friends called out Eliasha’s name, and she turned around after giving them an apologetic smile. “Excuse me.”
After she left Liseli reached up to finger the necklace thoughtfully, and she let go of Russ’s arm, walking over to the edge of the steps. He followed and rested his hand on the pillar by her shoulder. “Um . . . .”
“Look,” she said, pointing toward the patio. “Ivira’s trying to get Oan to dance like the men in the troop. He won’t do it though.” She chuckled.
“I wouldn’t either. Or wear those tights.”
“Heh.” Liseli pictured it for a moment. “It’s cute the way she’s imitating everything she saw, though.”
“Yeah.”
Liseli slowly walked down a couple of the steps and stopped, absently holding out her skirt. Ivira stomped her foot at Oan, wanting him to cooperate. Liseli wanted to walk down further, but instead stood poised on the steps.
Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t think. You will be stone.
She felt as if the people around her had fallen back. The air became still, like the world was holding its breath. Her limbs felt heavy and empty, like hollow porcelain again, and she couldn’t move.
Stillness. No one spoke or moved, except for little Ivira . . . twirling away from her brother with the doll in her hands.
The skirt fell from Liseli’s fingers and swished around her legs as the folds returned to place. Her hands were empty now, and the moment passed. There was a shrill scream on the other side of the hedge, and then another, and another. The people parted back from the patio like waves, moving as one. Ivira dropped the doll, stumbling away, but then darted back. Oan grabbed her around the waist and picked her up. Liseli watched her struggle and flail her hands toward the doll like she was under water, as he turned and ran slowly . . . slowly . . . slowly . . . for the stairs.
The hedge exploded in a snarl. Two great wolfish forms came crashing through. More screams echoed faintly across the garden, but Liseli stood silent and transfixed. They ran smoothly, muscles rippling like water under glistening black hides. Their front paws slapped the ground and their long tails cracked through the air like whips. There was an acrid smell. Liseli couldn’t take her eyes from theirs — phosphorescent orange orbs rimmed in blood red. Their lips were drawn back away from their fangs, but they made no sound as they came.
Ivira cried for “the baby,” but Oan ignored her, dragging her up the stairs. Liseli saw no more of them once they left her peripheral vision — she couldn’t turn or look away from the dogs. They stopped on the patio. One stood up on its hind legs and looked around, dangling its long front legs down at its sides like arms. The other one dove onto the rag doll and tossed it up into the air. The first dog saw this and came crashing back down to all fours, catching the doll in its jaws. The second dog bit down on the doll again, and they each pulled, tearing it in half. They spit t
he shredded remnants out onto the ground and reared up in unison, sweeping their hell-possessed eyes across the retreating crowd.
They saw Liseli standing on the stairs, and leapt forward, shoulders snapping back as their hand-like front paws hit the patio at a run. Liseli felt nothing; no alarm, as if she were in a small glass dome watching her enemies beat uselessly at the surface.
Shhhhh, shh. You will be stone.
Yes, I will be. I am already.
She knew that everything was happening much faster than it seemed to her. Curious, she thought dully. She watched them come. They didn’t come for her, but arched past her, blowing her hair and dress in a swirl around her like passing tornadoes. She lowered her head, and only then remembered that Russ was behind her.
Chapter 17 ~ For No One But Me
The world fell back into place around her with a jolt, like waking suddenly from a half sleep. She turned around to see Russ standing a few feet away from her on the steps. Eliasha had run back to him and gripped him by the arm, trying to get him to turn back the other way. They both froze as the dogs came to a halt before them and began to circle. They could have pounced right away. Why didn’t they? Liseli stood rooted to her spot, fearing that the slightest movement would trigger a lunge from one or both.
The first dog tossed its head and uttered a low snarl. The other lowered its head and eyed Eliasha, coming near to her skit with its teeth barred. Russ slowly lifted his hands, murmuring, “Nice dogs . . . ” nearly too quiet to hear. He glanced at Liseli.
“Run!” she cried.
He shook his head almost imperceptibly. The first dog slashed its tail through the air and made a feint at him, startling him into leaning the other way. But he didn’t run. You’re not supposed to turn and run. Everybody knows that.
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