by Mara Kelly
At least, Shillah thought with a sidelong glance at her brother, she was mostly glad they had been placed together. A large part of her nervousness was due, she knew, to the awkward silence that had reigned in the carriage for most of the ride. She wasn't sure of its source—they'd always been close, nearly inseparable, as children. But then they had been selected for the Caracolii at age fourteen, and had been separated for three long years while Shillah trained with the girls, Ilion with the boys. They'd written to each other almost daily, but still she felt the distance between them now. How was it that she had poured out her thoughts in letters to him for three years, and yet she felt tongue-tied in the presence of this tall, handsome stranger who carried her blood?
When she'd seen him on the steps that morning, the first time she had laid eyes on him in three years, she had barely recognized him. At fourteen, he'd been small and gangly, all dark shaggy hair and angular limbs. But now, at seventeen, he carried himself with the grace of a true Caracola, and the angular lines of his face had smoothed to handsome planes, and his thin frame had grown muscular with his training. She wondered if she looked different to him.
Ilion leaned across her and pointed out the window, toward a building looming up through the fog. His scent surrounded her, a scent at once familiar and not so, deep and musky and male. "That's the temple," he said. "We're here."
* * *
The carriage rolled to a stop before the temple, and Ilion took his sister's hand to guide her down from the carriage. She smiled teasingly at this, and he blushed. She had changed a great deal in the three years they had been apart—he supposed they both had. But Shillah had grown beautiful in ways he could not have imagined. When he had read her letters in his bed in the boys' dormitory back in Paila, he had pictured her as the plump fourteen-year-old he had last seen. But over the years her body had softened into voluptuous curves, her weight into muscle honed by her training. He had nearly walked past her on the stairs that morning, not recognizing the laughing face framed by waves of thick, dark hair.
He wasn't surprised that she seemed nervous. She'd never loved the dance as he had—he'd been drawn to it from an early age, and he had been the one to convince their mother to pay for their early lessons in local temple. He suspected Shillah had only joined him because it had been unimaginable, back then, that one of them would do something without the other. But she had shown more natural talent for the dance since the beginning. Ilion had often wondered if, had they not been twins, he would have been given the chances he had.
But he knew he had received this place at the Marah temple because of his own merit. He'd worked hard over the past three years to earn it; indeed, the other boys had often mocked him for his dedication. But he was determined to make his sister proud, and he couldn't wait to dance for her and with her, and show her how much he'd improved.
Four people moved out of the open archway at the front of the temple, and both he and Shillah fell to their knees as they saw the green robes of the two head Clercas, and the green sashes around the necks of the two head Caracolii.
"You may rise," said a voice, and they stood at once. One of the Caracolii, a woman, smiled. "Welcome to Marah Temple," she said. "We are indeed pleased to greet you. I am Sabinia, leader of the Caracolii, and this is my counterpart, Laro." The tall, fair-haired man next to her nodded. "And these are Furris and Egeri, leaders of the Clercas." The two other figures, so much alike that Ilion had to wonder which was the male and which the female head of the order, nodded seriously. He wondered if they too were twins.
Sabinia turned and signaled to someone behind her, and two servants emerged from the entrance and took Shillah and Ilion's trunks. "I am sure that you are weary from your journey. I hope you will find Marah pleasant. I promise that it is not always so grey here. We will have a feast shortly, and then you will be initiated into our order. The others are down at training now, and we find it best for our newest members to join in the training as soon as possible. Have you any objections to this?"
Ilion shook his head, and felt Shillah beside him doing the same. He knew neither of them would have failed to grant a request from a Caracola leader in any case, but there was something especially commanding about Sabinia, something that called to mind the tales of Deia herself, that made him feel he would do anything she asked of him.
Sabinia smiled. "Very well," she said. "Come along."
She led them under the high stone archway and along a narrow, many-windowed corridor. The corridor split into two, and Furris and Egeri bid them farewell and disappeared down the right hand turning. Sabinia and Laro continued to the left, and Ilion and Shillah followed. The corridor was well-lit by lamps set high above, with windows every few feet showing the grey fog outdoors. So far it looked very much like every other temple to the goddess that Ilion had seen.
But when they arrived in the training room, he could hardly believe his eyes. The room was at least twice the size of the boy's training area back in Paila, and took up both floors of the temple complex. Ladders around the walls led to compartments in the upper level—the sleeping chambers of the Caracolii.
And in the center of the room, the Caracolii were dancing. It was clearly not an organized training, as each seemed to be doing his or her own movement—some practicing with the long, whip-like ribbons, some stamping their feet tied with bells, some at the mats, practicing jumps and spins—but the many parts blended together into a pleasing whole nonetheless. He sensed their unity in the air, in the way they sidestepped one another and twined their separate movements together—these were Caracolii who thought as one, moved as one, just as the dancers of Dandle were supposed to. Ilion suddenly wondered whether he was truly skilled enough to take a place among them.
As if sensing his thoughts, Shillah moved closer to him and gave him a reproachful look. He smiled. He'd always been less sure of himself than she was, and she had always scolded him for it when they were younger. It was comforting to know she still knew him so well. He reached out and squeezed her hand, then saw Sabinia watching them and dropped it.
"Where would you like to begin?" Laro asked.
"The rings," replied Ilion at once. It was his best skill, and he wanted Shillah to see it.
Shillah looked around thoughtfully before answering. "The ribbon," she said at last. Ilion was surprised—the ribbon had always been her least favorite, back when they'd begun their training.
The other Caracolii happily made room when Ilion joined the group spinning from the rings set into chains in the stone ceiling high above. He took his time warming up, and focused all his mind on the first set of turns. They came out perfectly, and he landed still spinning on the mats below. A few of the female Caracolii watching clapped in appreciation. Ilion smiled, and quickly checked to see if Shillah had been watching.
She was across the room, dancing with a ribbon longer than any he had seen back in the Paila temple, and she seemed utterly focused as she swirled it through the air, dancing and leaping. Ilion watched, open-mouthed.
* * *
"So is your brother skilled at lovemaking?"
Shillah choked on her wine. Carmenda, the woman sitting beside her who had asked the question, pounded her on the back and laughed.
"How would I know that?" Shillah responded once she could speak again, and she realized her tone was testier than necessary.
"I just wondered," said Carmenda with a knowing smile. "He's quite handsome. And lithe on the rings."
"Hmmm," said Shillah. She had watched Ilion on the rings in the training room that afternoon, and she had to admit, he had improved a great deal since she had last seen him dance. He'd flipped and turned, balancing himself between the rings, the muscles of his arms rock-hard. She'd never expected to see such grace in Ilion.
He'd looked natural, taking his place among the other men of the Caracola. Shillah only wished she had felt half as comfortable as he seemed to. He sat across the table from her now, talking to some of the other men and laughing. Occa
sionally he shot her glance—making sure she was all right, she supposed.
Maybe she shouldn't have tried the ribbon right away this afternoon. But she'd wanted to start with something graceful and womanly—she wanted Ilion to see she had progressed beyond the assessments of their early instructors, who had all told her she had much strength but little grace. But she hadn't felt graceful at all, not after watching Ilion sail through the air on the rings, not after watching the other woman of the Caracola with the long, impossible ribbons.
And she felt awkward, too, sitting among the others in the feasting room. Not that they weren't welcoming—everyone had been friendly since they had arrived. But the other dancers of the Caracola clearly shared a bond that went beyond any she had seen—except, perhaps, for her relationship with her brother, but even that felt different now. Shillah felt disconnected, as if she shared a dance with the others, but she was spinning in the wrong direction.
"I suppose I'll have to find out for myself," said Carmenda, drawing Shillah out of her thoughts. It took a moment for Shillah to realize what she meant, and when she did, she blushed.
Carmenda laughed. "Now, now, don't look so scandalized. You're not in training anymore. Boys and girls can do whatever they like here." She cast a sidelong glance at Shillah. "Though if your training years were anything like mine, you didn't exactly suffer among the girls."
Shillah's face grew warm as she thought of the many nights Silvy had sneaked into her bed, sending Shillah into ecstasy with her frisky pink tongue, and the time that she and Pina and Janai had bathed together in the spring, exploring the soft places on each other's bodies with mouth and hands. No, she had never been with a man, but Shillah could hardly be called inexperienced when it came to physical matters.
Shillah took another sip of wine to hide her embarrassment as Carmenda giggled at her red face. She looked away as Ilion caught her eye and gave her a puzzled look. She couldn't imagine what he would think if he knew about all those nights in the girl's dormitory.
* * *
"She is a beauty, your sister," said the man beside Ilion, who had introduced himself as Noven.
"Thank you," said Ilion distractedly; he was watching Shillah cough as she choked on her wine.
Noven laughed, as did Dini, the man on Ilion's other side. Ilion blushed, realizing how inappropriate his response had been, but before he could correct it, Dini spoke.
"She'll be a great addition," he said.
Noven nodded. "I think so. Did you see her at the ribbons?"
Dini nodded and raised his eyebrows lasciviously. "Very supple," he said suggestively.
Ilion looked back and forth between them, realizing that he ought to have felt protective, or at least annoyed, at the two of them talking about his sister like that. But he glanced across at her, and understood what they meant. She was just as beautiful as any of the other woman of the Caracola—and, he thought with a twinge in his nether regions, the Caracola of Marah temple had no shortage of beautiful women. The brown-haired woman next to Shillah, for example, kept giving him looks that suggested she would like to find him in a temple nook on a quiet day. Ilion had spent three years among young men his own age, and being among so many beautiful, strong women—many of whom still smelled of clean dancer's sweat, intoxicating perfume to a Caracola—was going to his head even more quickly than the temple wine. He thought of the brief, need-filled coupling he'd had with Tolia, the kitchen-maid back at the temple in Paila, and wondered how much more satisfying any of the women in this room would be.
He glanced over at Shillah, wondering what she would think if she knew his thoughts, and raised his eyebrows as he saw her face pink with embarrassment. He hoped she felt more at ease here than she looked.
Chimes rang out, and all of the dancers quietened as Laro and Sabinia stood at the front of the room. "Caracolii of Dandle," said Laro, his voice ringing against the stone walls. "Tonight we are especially fortunate to welcome two among us who bring the blessings of Dandle and Baruch. Please raise your glasses to Ilion and Shillah, our newest members."
"Blessings of Deia," chanted the other dancers as they raised their glasses. Ilion smiled at his sister as he drank from his cup, but she still looked ill at ease.
"We hope you have eaten your fill," said Sabinia's soft voice, much gentler than Laro's—though the room went quiet at once when she spoke. "We now leave our feast. It is time to prepare."
"Prepare for what?" Ilion whispered to Noven.
Noven shook his head. "Nothing, don't worry," he whispered back, but Ilion thought he saw an odd gleam in the other man's eye.
The Caracolii stood and started moving toward the doors. Ilion stood to follow, but just then one of the serving boys came and took his hand. "You are to go this way," he said.
Ilion followed, slightly dazed—he wondered if that last cup of wine had contained something stronger than the others. The boy led him to a side door, just as one of the serving girls led Shillah to the same door. Ilion looked back and saw Sabinia watching them with an enigmatic smile.
The two servants led them through the door and down a corridor. They stopped outside a door at the end. "You must go in and bathe first," said the girl who had been leading Shillah. "Then put on the garments you will find in there, and go through the far door."
Shillah raised her eyebrows. "But what are we—" she began, but the two servants turned and went down the corridor as if she had not spoken. She turned to Ilion with a frown. "What's going on?"
He shrugged and pushed open the door. Steam billowed out, and when it cleared, he saw a long, low chamber, dimly lit with candles in sconces along the walls. At its center was a sunken pool, with a tiled bottom that flickered in the light of the candles. Low benches stood on either side of the pool, and white garments were laid out on them.
Shillah closed the door behind them and came to stand by Ilion at the edge of the pool. They both stared at it for a long moment, then at the door at the far end of the room. The door was decorated with a mosaic of a rearing horse, the sacred symbol of Dandle.
Ilion looked sidelong at his sister. They had bathed together as children of course, but that had been many years ago. He wondered what she was thinking.
"You can go first, if you like," he said, his voice echoing around the chamber.
She looked startled, and then she pressed her lips together. "Don't be silly. They will be waiting for us." Her eyes grew wide as she seemed to realize what her words implied. "I mean, it's a large pool," she added quickly.
Ilion nodded mechanically and stepped around to the far side of the pool, to give her some privacy. He took his time removing his boots and clothing—he found himself suddenly reluctant to disrobe with his sister in the room, and the wine, or whatever was in it, was mixing with the steam to fog his brain. When he saw the shadow moving through the haze at the far end of the room, he nearly forgot that it was his sister. His first step into the hot water called him back to himself though, and he quickly turned his face away from the shapely form in the mist.
He found the cake of soap and bathed quickly, glad to wash away the grime of the afternoon's dancing. Nonetheless, Shillah had already dried off and donned her white robe by the time he emerged from the water. She stood by the far door, waiting for him, and she looked away quickly when he ascended the steps to the bench. He realized, with a warm, groggy feeling, that she had been watching him.
Ilion dried his slick skin with a cloth and wrapped the robe around him, arranging it for best discretion.
"Are you ready?" Shillah asked without turning back toward him.
He nodded, then realized how useless this gesture was. "Yes," he said.
She pushed open the door, and he followed her through it. They emerged into the heart of Deia's temple—Ilion saw the Clercas's entrance, emblazoned with the bird-form of Baruch, on the opposite side of the room. The fore of the temple was bathed in light from the many candles that had been placed on pillars all around it, but the farther portio
ns, where the worshippers sat, receded into shadow. A low platform, such as the Caracolii used for dancing the glory of Deia, stood at the front of the room. On impulse, Ilion hopped up onto it and performed a spin.
Shillah laughed, the clear sound cutting through the temple quiet. "What are you doing?" she said, her voice growing husky in her attempt to keep it low. Ilion thought she might have had whatever he'd drunk too.
Ilion shrugged and sat down at the edge of the platform. "I don't know. I just felt like it."
Shillah came to sit beside him—but not too close, he noticed. He wondered how long it would be before they stopped acting so awkwardly with each other. "How long are we supposed to wait?" she asked.
"I don't know. What are we waiting for, anyway?"
Shillah frowned. "I don't know. None of the others would say much about this." She rubbed absently at her forehead.
Ilion put his hand over hers. "Nervous?"
She looked up and met his eyes, then looked away. "No, I just...well, yes."
He smiled. "We can be nervous together."
She grinned at him. "Just like back in school."
He nodded. "Except now we get to see each other. I missed you, Shillah."
"I missed you too." She looked around the temple, and seemed about to say something else, when a new voice cut through the darkness.
"Caracolii of Dandle, behold your new members. We initiate them now, to join us in the daily dance of worship to Deia." The voice was Sabinia's; though the words were barely a whisper in the darkness, they seemed to fill the temple, and Ilion realized that the room was much larger than he had initially thought. Candlelight flared into being all around, and the other Caracolii entered, each wearing a white robe as he and Shillah wore.