SummerDanse

by Terie Garrison

  And so the journey went for the next few days. Anazian would be harsh, almost brutal, in the morning. He’d grow weaker during the day, and in the evenings, before meditating, his tongue would be loose. It was a disconcerting pattern, but at least I recognized it and knew what to expect.

  Three nights after his explanation of the wood, he sat giggling as I cooked. My exasperation reached new heights.

  “You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” he asked, sounding much like an arrogant child.

  “No,” I growled, wondering what he could possibly be talking about. “I haven’t. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “All right, I will.”

  I waited, keeping my attention on the food I was preparing.

  “I’m taking you to Penwick,” he finally said.

  “What?” I exclaimed. “The capital city?”

  “The very same.”

  My heart sank, and I blinked back the tears that rose to my eyes. Every bit of my body ached, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. While I might not know our exact location, I was sure we were still in the eastern forests, hundreds of miles from the capital. I would never survive a journey that long.

  “Ah, but don’t despair. There is more you don’t know—probably haven’t guessed, probably couldn’t guess.”

  I didn’t reply, sure that if I tried to say a word, I would burst into tears. He came closer and patted my shoulder. I shrank away.

  “It won’t take long to get there.”

  I looked at him sharply. Was he suggesting that we would be using the Royal Guard’s network of messenger horses? That was the only way to travel faster than we already were. Unless he meant dragons? But no, that couldn’t be. Other than the red dragons, the only ones in Alloway were those kept by the king for the fighting pits. Held by magic against their will, I could scarcely imagine that even the dragonmasters had enough power to control one out in the open for long.

  With a mischievous smile, Anazian asked, “Want me to tell you?” His voice held an immature note of pride. “I’m folding the land!” And he laughed as if this were the greatest joke in the world.

  “Doing what?”

  “There, you see. Your great master hasn’t taught you everything.”

  Well, no, of course he hadn’t. I’d only been studying with him for a few short months. Anazian knew that. I wasn’t sure which I wanted to understand more: what he was talking about or why he acted so strangely every night.

  “I’ve been folding the land,” he repeated. “Making it so that each step we take moves us farther than normal. It doesn’t make much difference in the forest, for land on which many trees grow is difficult to fold. But you wait until tomorrow when we get free of the woods. Then you shall really see it at work.”

  And now I understood the answer to both questions, for using that much power all day would certainly leave one weak, requiring both physical and spiritual refilling of one’s stores. It also explained the three meditation sessions each day.

  That night, I tried to sort through what I’d learned. Why was Anazian taking me to Penwick? Maybe it was to turn me over to the king. The dragonmasters had been after the mages ever since Breyard and Xyla had escaped from them right under their noses. Maybe Anazian was trying to gain favor with King Erno by giving him me in my brother’s stead. Not a comforting thought, but it certainly explained why the mage would go to so much trouble to capture me and keep me alive.

  And why would time matter? Why expend so much power to shorten the journey? Was there perhaps a bounty on my head that would expire soon?

  All these questions and more kept my thoughts spinning long after Anazian had returned from his meditation and gone to sleep himself.

  And now I thought of something else. When he was weak and acting strangely, that was when he divulged things to me. I wondered whether he even remembered what he’d told me once he strengthened himself. For he never mentioned in the morning what he’d told me the night before. I would have to take advantage of this, see what more information I could get from him.

  I finally dropped off in the deepest, quietest hour of the night.

  The next day, Anazian seemed anxious and agitated. He snapped at me when I didn’t get things loaded back onto the wagon quickly enough, and when he closed up the bars of the cage, he didn’t wait until I was completely through, trapping my left knee between them. I cried out in pain, but he just said, “That will teach you to hurry,” and left me there.

  If I had thought the travel was uncomfortable before, it was nothing compared to now. The branches were clamped on my leg just above my knee, so tightly I couldn’t even turn over so as to lie on my back. All I could do was prop myself up on my hands and knee, left leg straight out behind me. Within half an hour, my hands were numb and my elbows weary; an hour later, my right knee was bruised, probably to the bone.

  I tried to be strong, but in the end it was all too much and I broke down. Every bit of my body ached beyond what I’d ever imagined was possible to endure. The skin of my left leg was raw and probably bleeding for all I could tell, and my right thigh shook from the strain and could hardly hold up my weight. Yet trapped in such an awkward position, I couldn’t change anything.

  I hadn’t done anything wrong, and here I was being treated worse than a stray dog. Once I started crying, everything I’d been trying not to think about came flooding over me. Where were my parents, and why had they been taken? Why had Anazian kidnapped me, and why was he taking me to Penwick? Was Grey dead? Why weren’t the dragons and mages trying to find me?

  My sobbing grew uncontrollable as my mental anguish exacerbated my physical pain.

  The wagon stopped with a jolt that made it feel like my leg was being ripped off my body.

  “Would you just shut up?” Anazian said. “I tire of your pathetic noise.”

  “My leg,” I pleaded through my tears. “Please.”

  He let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Take it as a lesson.” He started to move away.

  “No!” I practically screamed. “Please, please! I beg of you! Anything. Just please—” My breath caught in my throat, cutting off the words.

  The pressure on my leg disappeared, and I fell onto my face. Anazian laughed.

  I lay there, still weeping but trying to get myself under control. Both legs throbbed from the morning’s abuse, and my arms felt as sturdy as damp straw. I curled myself into a tight ball as we started moving again. If only I could somehow lose myself in sleep, perhaps I could escape the agony for awhile.

  When we stopped at midday, I was too miserable to eat the bit of dried meat Anazian threw at me. I stayed curled up and pretended to be asleep, though I was sure he knew I was shamming. While he was off meditating, I really did fall asleep, where I dreamed of wild thunder and shouting voices.

  I was jerked to wakefulness when the wagon began to move, to find that the thunder, at least, was real. Except that it wasn’t thunder; it was horses’ hooves. All around me. Many horses, not just Anazian’s two.

  I opened an eye and saw the reddish-brown flank of a large bay. Confused, I lifted my head and looked all around. I was surrounded by men on horseback, ten at least.

  Their clothes were stained and patched, their boots scuffed and old. Each of them wore several weapons, while their heads were covered with masks and hoods. Perhaps a few were even women.

  The nearest one noticed that I’d stirred. He reined his horse closer and said in a hiss, “One sound of warning, little girl, and you’ll be dead before your next breath.”

  This is war. And I’m glad. Whoever has taken my parents and my sister will pay dearly, if I have anything to say and do about it.

  I’m getting tired of waiting, though. Yallick counsels patience, but it’s not his parents and sister who’ve been kidnapped. Doing nothing is driving me out of my
head. I want to send the dragons into the sky and mount an assault—but on whom? The mage is right, that we must not be hasty, but I’m not made like that. I want action, and I want it now.

  But look what happened to Grey. Whoever we’re up against is vicious, and I suppose Yallick is right to be cautious. So we must plot and plan and keep watch so as not to miss the opportunity when it comes. But I hope it comes soon ... the sooner, the better.

  Before long, we turned from the main road onto a much smaller path, rougher than any we’d yet traversed. I rattled in my cage.

  After about an hour, quiet conversations began to spring up between the men. They must feel there was little danger that they’d be caught now, and I had to agree with that sentiment. What I didn’t want to speculate about was whether I was worse off or not. No matter what, if I could get these people to take the collar off, I could find a bird to get a message to Xyla, Yallick, and the others.

  It was full dark before we pulled into a settlement and finally stopped. By then, my very thoughts seemed to have been jarred out of me, along with my teeth and bones.

  People of all ages gathered around the wagon. Children began to climb on it while two men loosened the ropes. When the children saw me, they squawked excitedly, taunting and laughing at me.

  Wearing a dress that had once been fine but now was tattered and faded, a buxom woman looked on with a shrewd expression on her face before chasing the children away. “And what exactly are you intending to do with the girl, Gradden?” she asked.

  The man who’d spoken to me put a hand on the cage. “I suspect it’s poor takings today, Kayva,” he said, “but it’s better than nothing. We’ve had plenty of that lately, if you hadn’t noticed. Besides, we can sell the girl for a slave, and that’ll be good for some gold.”

  “You best be right,” Kayva said, though her voice sounded doubtful. “But good seldom comes of trafficking humans.”

  “What are you talking about, woman? Can’t you see that someone is already trafficking her? Better we get the gold than him. Hey! You there! Be careful with that. We don’t know what this take is. Let’s not be breaking things that might be fragile.”

  Kayva shook her head. “At least get the girl out of there and let’s get her tied up and gagged proper.”

  Even these words didn’t stir in me the reaction they should have. My entire body and mind were numb. They could kill me, for all I cared, and that would even bring a certain satisfaction that Anazian’s plan would be thwarted.

  But getting me out of the cage proved to be an impossible task. First Gradden tried to pull the wooden bars away from the frame. He didn’t seem much surprised when that didn’t work, and he called for something to use to pry the bars away. That didn’t work, either, and I wondered if I should tell him that the whole thing was probably held together with magic. I held my tongue, though, and let him carry on.

  The children stood around watching him, laughing every time he let out a curse until he bellowed at them to leave him alone. They scattered in every direction, but hidden though they might be, their continuing laughter proved they were still watching the spectacle.

  Nothing Gradden did, not even using an axe so large it could’ve sliced me in two with a single stroke, made even a scratch on the wood.

  As he stood leaning against the wagon, panting after his latest effort, Kayva reappeared with a plateful of food that steamed in the cool night air and gave off a delicious odor that stirred my appetite.

  “Here, eat,” she said to Gradden. “The others have already finished.”

  Gradden wiped the sweat from his forehead and took the plate. “I’ve never seen such a thing as this in all my days,” he said, shaking his head.

  Kayva grasped one of the bars and gave it a shake. “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps she’s valuable after all.” She turned to me, and in the bright moonlight, I saw her look over my body in an appraising sort of way. “It can wait ’til morning,” she said. “I daresay we can burn her out if nothing else.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Gradden said around a mouthful of food.

  Kayva bent down and picked up the rope that had been left on the ground next to the wagon. “Come here, girl. At least we need to make sure you can’t make any noise.”

  “No, ma’am, please. I’ll be quiet. I promise. I don’t want him to find me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I bet you don’t at that. One sound from you, though, will change my mind.”

  I sat up for a long time, watching the settlement. Although the dwellings were all large tents rather than fixed buildings, the place had a lived-in feel, as if the group had been here a long time. I wondered how much of their clothing and goods had been stolen from unwary travelers. All of it, probably.

  Several youths started a bonfire in the center of the settlement, and soon people began to gather. The children played some kind of chase game while the adults stood in small groups or sat on rustic chairs.

  A young woman played a lap harp and sang, while an old man accompanied her on a pipe. Sometimes the rest joined in a song, other times they just listened. The man even played a solo on the pipe, a haunting melody that filled me with sadness. As if I didn’t already have enough of that.

  For the scene I observed broke my heart with its simple beauty. I found myself longing to join in, to be part of this community. Instead, I could only watch from the outside, ostracized, looking in.

  I watched for hours, ignoring the throbbing pain that coursed through my body. The children wearied and were taken to bed, and the oldsters turned in soon after. Finally, the musicians packed up their instruments and went to their tents. It wasn’t until only Gradden and Kayva sat at the fire still talking that I turned away from the scene, lay down, and went to sleep wondering what the next day held for me.

  I dreamed about the mountains. I’d been walking a long time, and my hands, toes, and nose were cold. A boy with whom I traveled slipped and fell and broke his leg. I felt sad, because I had no way to help him. Then he started dancing, and I was amazed because you’re not supposed to be able to dance with a broken leg.

  Sometime in the night I was half awakened by a stifling sense of power. I lay with my eyes closed, trying to identify what might be wrong. I was thirsty—oh, so thirsty—and my lips were dry, so I licked them to moisten them a little. Mama’s voice seemed to whisper in my ear that that just made it worse.

  A fire crackled nearby. A fire? Nearby? That startled me fully awake. No longer in my cage, I now lay in the center of the camp. What had happened? Feeling a little queasy, I sat up just as Anazian walked out of a tent carrying a wooden crate.

  “Ah, awake at last, I see,” he said as he took the crate to the wagon. He came back and handed me a waterskin. “Here, drink your fill. It’ll make you feel better.”

  The water tasted wonderful and eased my thirst enough to make me aware of my hunger. Well, that would have to wait a bit.

  Anazian made several more trips between the tent and the wagon, and now I saw that he’d accumulated a good-sized pile of things. Some of the boxes and bundles didn’t look like ones we’d started out with.

  He came over to the fire and sat down with a sigh, flexing his fingers as if his hands were tired. “Well, I must honestly say you gave me quite a scare. Thought I’d killed you.”

  “What happened?” I asked in a croaking voice.

  “Have some more to drink,” he said. “Idiots. Thinking they can steal from a mage with impunity.” He shook his head. “I suppose they’ve learned their lesson now.”

  “Did ... did you kill them?”

  “Oh, some of them will probably die. Maybe all of them. But you and I will be long gone by then. How are you feeling?”

  Confused, mainly, though I didn’t tell him that. “Hungry. But my stomach is a bit upset.”

  “Hmm. Yes. Side effect o
f the spell. Better that you not eat for awhile yet. Just keep drinking.”

  “But what did you do?”

  “Followed them. Sent them all into a long hard sleep. And now I’m recovering my goods. All of them.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at me.

  So that’s what I was—one of his goods.

  “You just sit there and rest. I’ll load the wagon and get everything ready to go.”

  This plan was fine by me. I was certain I couldn’t be of much use anyway. My body, especially my knees, ached, and I wasn’t sure whether I’d be able to walk, much less lift things. I fell into a waking dream of a comfortable bed, a warm room, and my friends all around me.

  “All right, time to go,” Anazian called, startling me out of sleep. I’d actually managed to doze off sitting up.

  I pushed myself to my feet and limped over to the wagon. The mage didn’t help me into the cage, but he didn’t rush me, either. Once he shut up the bars of the cage, he got the waterskin I’d left behind and slipped it to me. Then he actually mounted the wagon and drove it the usual way.

  “We won’t go far tonight, but we need to get at least a few miles from this place.” He clucked to the horses. “Slowly now, my beauties.”

  As I lay in the back, trying to ignore the bumps from the path, I thought about how he was acting. Typical bully: it was all right for him to abuse me, but no one else better try. I thought, too, about my own mixed feelings. Who knows what else those people might’ve done if they’d had the chance, but for a few hours, I’d longed to be one of them. I hoped they’d live.

  I had days and days to ponder these apparent paradoxes. We left the forest behind a day later than expected, but leave it we did, and then our routine changed. Although Anazian still let me out of the cage morning and evening to eat and help with the work of setting up and breaking camp, he now required me to sleep in the cage.