A Play of Shadow

by Julie E. Czerneda

  A joy in itself to believe.

  Last and not least, Lila had put the box, with its weight of letters and seals and dire guilt, in his care, to keep in Marrowdell and safe. She’d not said what to do with it, should the need arise.

  Making him her threat, his sister, which was no joy at all.

  “The celebration and no longer,” Lila said then, reaching for another small shirt like any mother packing for her children. “I’ve ’dreamed. Your father’s ready for us.” She eyed her son. “We’ve a new cook.”

  Semyn went still, then nodded. Heart’s Blood, he’d wish she spare the boy—but that wasn’t the life they led, his family. Not and be safe. “I’ll write,” Bannan promised gruffly.

  Lila raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation, little brother?”

  He pretended to grimace, then smiled. “If you must.”

  To his surprise, her face softened. “Thank you.” More briskly, with that familiar glint to her eye. “Now, what’s left to pack? Semyn, be sure to check every bag.”

  “For what, Momma?”

  Lila glanced at Bannan, a dimple in one cheek.

  “For toads.”

  The Midwinter Beholding was held in Marrowdell, as it was throughout Rhoth and her neighbor, Mellynne, on the longest night of the year. Boughs of fragrant cedar were tied throughout the mill, and lanterns carefully lit. A feast was prepared, as feasts should be, using the best from larders and shelves.

  Plus an immense platter of ompah, to the particular joy of Master Jupp.

  Baking there was, all the favorites plus puddings and sweet sausage pie, being traditional at this time. As, in Marrowdell, was the wearing of one’s very best winter coats, it not being possible to heat the mill.

  Dancers would warm themselves, once the meal sat comfortably in stomachs, though most would return to nibble, there being sweet trays to come later and savory and surprise treats tied in little bags.

  Bags used the last year and years before that, and those not frayed saved for next year, it being one of the Ancestors Blessings to add the old to the new.

  Added to this year were the Westietas, mother and sons, as well as Tir Half-face, being himself of Marrowdell as much as any place or more. Semyn played on his old pipes, his new flute packed to be taken and repaired, with Weed helping Cheffy keep the beat on a drum.

  When they weren’t playing tag with Alyssa.

  Lila and Lorra, having discovered they’d much in common, sat together. Plotting to take over the world, Bannan would say, only half in jest, but he was as pleased as any there, to see color in Lorra’s cheeks and hear her argue to her heart’s content.

  While she could. Zehr and Davi had crafted a sled from the wood of Lila’s wagon, for as she’d put it, Emon would need the tools of his office soon.

  Though a little anarchy, she’d grinned, was good for him.

  A bagful of letters would return with them as well, the opportunity to send word midwinter not to be missed. Aunt Sybb wouldn’t be the only one surprised and pleased.

  The sled and all its contents would be pulled, much to the astonishment of those who knew kruar, by Spirit and Dauntless. Jenn had gladly wished away the saddles grown onto their backs, expecting the pair to seek their freedom. But once healed, they’d accepted the traces without demur, being, it turned out, enamored of Werfol and Lila.

  Semyn, ever prudent, kept his distance.

  According to Wisp, the kruar vied to be fools like Scourge. Scourge seemed content, having proclaimed he was, in fact, too big for Werfol. Anything but admit to being glad to have his own truthseer back and safe.

  And so worlds tugged each other this way, then that, Jenn Nalynn thought, gazing down at all this from the attic, her chin on the rail around the stair, her legs and feet—bare—dangling over. She could feel it, how the light of the Verge would begin to retreat before the light of the sun, days longer here, but not necessarily shorter there.

  The Verge hardly so predictable.

  “May I join you?”

  She smiled and patted the floor. A moth flew up and away as Bannan slipped his legs through and sat. “Our first Midwinter Beholding.”

  Jenn looked askance at him. “What do you think?”

  He put his arm around her. “I like it.”

  “The dancing will—” She paused, it being hard to speak and pay proper attention to a kiss at the same time, and the kiss being the more interesting process, then continued, breathlessly, “—start soon.”

  “I like dancing. I like the food. I like almost everything.”

  She looked askance at him for the second time. “‘Almost.’”

  Bannan could look remarkably innocent. He did now, widening his apple butter eyes and smiling. “I’ll have my house back, in a couple of days. You know what it will need then?”

  Her heart began to pound. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  He put his face close hers, lowered his voice to a delicious rumble, and said, “Another toad.”

  She sat back and pushed at him. “You have your own.”

  Bannan laughed, undeterred. “A map, then. I need a map for my wall.”

  Why . . . catching on to the game, Jenn took a breath, feeling giddier than a couple of ciders and happiness could explain. “I suppose you need another pair of boots too.”

  “How did you know? And clothes. Drawers full of clothes.” He ran a finger through her hair. “And a hair brush,” this tender and soft and now she saw the hope in his eyes and realized he was more than a little giddy too.

  Before the sun had set, they’d all stood in the ossuary, snow to their knees, to silently tell their Ancestors Dear and Departed, including Frann, of every fault and every triumph of the past year, then every hope for the next.

  She’d not looked at Bannan then, nor wished. She’d simply told her Ancestors of her new and special hope, for this very year.

  So, it seemed, had he.

  “A toad.” She pretended not to understand. “A map. Boots, clothes, and a brush?” Then Jenn Nalynn smiled, from her heart. “I believe all that could be arranged.”

  They kissed, then and again, and whether she had a heart or simply the memory of one didn’t matter, for Jenn felt hers about to burst with joy, and they might have kept kissing, but the music started below and tables were moved and someone—likely Hettie—shouted up at them to come down, then everyone did.

  With Lila’s voice the loudest.

  Bannan helped her to her feet. He blew a kiss down to his sister, then glanced at Jenn. He started to frown, muttering, “Ancestors Bothered and Brash,” as if struck by sudden concern. “I’d best tell you now, Dearest Heart. You may—” oh, and this so grim and serious she knew it was nothing of the sort and managed not to smile, “—change your mind.”

  She wouldn’t, of course, any more than he. Playing along, Jenn arched a brow, as Aunt Sybb would when suspicious. “Tell me what?”

  “We won’t be alone.” The truthseer’s grin was full of boyish mischief. “There’s a dragon.”

  The dragon coiled in the rafters above the dancers. It wasn’t warm enough.

  But it would do.

  The younger truthseer saw and pointed him out to his brother, who didn’t see but seemed pleased. Having been seen—again—Wisp flew to a different rafter and waited. Hide and seek being a dragonish sort of game.

  The girl was happier than he’d ever known her to be. Happier and different. He’d seen it first in the Verge. She was more sei now, yet more herself.

  Beyond a dragon to ponder.

  A little cousin squatted in the shadows. Not the only one, there being food dropped from tables and the possibility, however scant, a nyphrit might dare the lights. But this toad was hers.

  This toad had crossed into the Verge and back.

  Of this toad, even a dragon would be wary.
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br />   It had taken the box, with its straps and bands. The girl had been glad, being too good-hearted to savor revenge. Unlike a dragon.

  It had taken the box, but why? A dragon could be, Wisp decided, curious.

  Marrowdell’s little cousins did other incomprehensible things. They built a throne for their absent queen from pebbles they earned by their service. Sent one of their own into the Verge, to swallow a bit of sei and burp out a mask.

  This box, though.

  A dragon could be, Wisp decided, concerned.

  “I see you!”

  When not playing a game.

  “Where?” said Semyn, squinting up.

  Because there was a box, with Crumlin safe inside, and the girl was happy, and he felt particularly generous, there being more children soon to arrive . . .

  Wisp shaped himself from light, then swooped down to skim over the dancers’ heads, to oohs and ahhhs and at least one very satisfying shriek.

  Before slipping out, another shadow in the night.

  Concerning the Denizens of Marrowdell

  Alyssa Ropp, daughter of Mimm and Anten, sister of Hettie and Cheffy, stepdaughter to Cynd, stepsister to Roche and Devins. Born in Marrowdell. Helps in dairy.

  Anten Ropp, brother of Cynd, father (with Mimm) of Hettie, Cheffy, and Alyssa. Widowed then married Covie. Stepfather of Roche and Devins. Tends the dairy.

  Aunt Sybb (the Lady Sybb Mahavar, nee Nalynn), sister of Radd, aunt to Peggs and Jenn. Spends summers in Marrowdell. Wife of Hane Mahavar. In Avyo, they own several of the better riverside inns.

  Bannan Marerrym Larmensu, brother of Lila, rider of Scourge. Former Vorkoun border guard who went by the name of “Captain Ash.” Truthseer and, in Marrowdell, farmer.

  Battle and Brawl, Davi Treff’s team of draft horses.

  Cheffy Ropp, son of Mimm and Anten, brother of Hettie and Alyssa, stepson of Covie, stepbrother of Roche and Devins. Born in Marrowdell. Helps in dairy.

  Covie Ropp, mother (with Riedd) of Roche and Devins, stepmother to Hettie, Cheffy, and Alyssa. Widowed then married Anten. A baroness in Avyo. Tends the dairy. Village healer.

  Crumlin Tralee (Lost One), once resident of Marrowdell. Disappeared under magical circumstances.

  Cynd Treff, nee Ropp, sister of Anten, wife of Davi. Aunt to Hettie, Cheffy, and Alyssa. Gardener and seamstress.

  Davi Treff, son of Lorra, brother of Wen. Husband of Cynd, Anten’s sister. Uncle to Hettie, Cheffy, and Alyssa. Village smith.

  Devins Morrill, son of Covie and Riedd, brother of Roche. Stepbrother of Hettie, Cheffy, and Alyssa. Stepson of Anten. Came to Marrowdell as a boy. Tends the dairy.

  Dusom Uhthoff (Master Dusom), father of Wainn and Ponicce, husband of Larell (widowed), brother of Kydd. Formerly professor at Avyo’s University of Sols. Village teacher and helps tend the orchard.

  Frann Nall, former business rival and now friend of Lorra Treff. In Avyo, holdings included riverfront warehouses. Village weaver, quilter, and trader.

  Gallie Emms, mother of twins, Tadd and Allin, and baby Loee, wife of Zehr. Author and sausage maker.

  Good’n’Nuf, Ropps’ bull.

  Hettie Emms, nee Ropp, daughter of Mimm and Anten, sister of Cheffy and Alyssa, stepdaughter of Covie, stepsister of Roche and Devins, wife to Tadd. Came to Marrowdell as a child. Village cheese maker.

  Himself, boar.

  Jenn Nalynn, daughter of Melusine and Radd, sister of Peggs. Born in Marrowdell under magical circumstances. Turn-born.

  Kydd Uhthoff, brother of Dusom, uncle of Wainn and Ponicce, husband of Peggs. Came to Marrowdell as a young man. Formerly a student at Avyo’s University of Sols. Tends apple orchard. Village beekeeper and artist.

  Larell Uhthoff, mother of Wainn and Ponicce, wife of Dusom. Died by misadventure on the Northward Road.

  Loee Emms, daughter of Gallie and Zehr, sister of Tadd and Allin. Born in Marrowdell.

  Lorra Treff, mother of Davi and Wen. Great-aunt to Hettie, Cheffy, and Alyssa. Formerly head of Avyo’s influential Potter’s Guild. Village potter.

  Melusine (Melly) Nalynn, nee Semanaryas, mother of Peggs and Jenn, wife of Radd. Died by misadventure in Marrowdell.

  Mimm Ropp, mother of Hettie, Cheffy, and Alyssa, first wife of Anten. Died by misadventure in Marrowdell.

  Old Jupp (Wagler Jupp), great-uncle of Riedd and Riss. Former Secretary of the House of Keys in Avyo. Currently writing his memoirs.

  Peggs Uhthoff, nee Nalynn, daughter of Melusine and Radd, elder sister of Jenn, wife of Kydd. Came to Marrowdell as a babe. Village’s best baker and cook.

  Ponicce Uhthoff, daughter of Dusom and Larell, sister of Wainn, niece of Kydd. Died by misadventure on the Northward Road.

  Radd Nalynn, father of Peggs and Jenn, husband of Melusine, brother of Sybb. In Avyo, owned mills and a tannery. Village miller.

  Riedd Morrill, father of Roche and Devins, husband of Covie, cousin of Riss, great-nephew of Old Jupp. In Avyo, was a baron and served in the House of Keys. Died by misadventure in Marrowdell.

  Riss Nahamm, cousin of Riedd, great-niece of Old Jupp, wife of Sennic. Came to Marrowdell as a young woman. Creates tapestries and cares for her great-uncle.

  Roche Morrill, son of Covie and Riedd, brother of Devins. Came to Marrowdell as a young boy. Left for Ansnor with the Demas.

  Satin and Filigree, sows.

  Scourge, the Larmensu warhorse. In Marrowdell, his true nature is revealed.

  Semyn Westietas, elder son of Lila and Emon, brother of Werfol, nephew of Bannan.

  Sennic Nahamm, formerly known as Horst, former soldier, husband of Riss. Took the name of Horst from baby Jenn, who continues to call him Uncle Horst. Hunter and village protector.

  Tadd Emms, son of Zehr and Gallie, brother of Loee, twin of Allin, husband of Hettie. Came to Marrowdell as a babe. Tends livestock.

  Tir Half-face (Tirsan Dimelecor), former Vorkoun border guard. Bannan’s friend and companion. Has taken service with the Lady Mahavar in Avyo.

  Wainn Uhthoff, son of Dusom and Larell, brother of Ponicce, nephew of Kydd. Came to Marrowdell as a young boy. Injured by misadventure on the Northward Road.

  Wainn’s Old Pony

  Wen Treff, daughter of Lorra, sister of Davi. Came to Marrowdell as a young woman. Prefers to talks to toads, but recently has been known to talk to people.

  Werfol (Weed) Westietas, younger son of Lila and Emon, brother of Semyn, nephew of Bannan.

  Wisp the dragon, once Wyll the man, Jenn Nalynn’s dearest friend and protector.

  Zehr Emms, father of the twins, Tadd and Allin, and baby Loee, husband of Gallie. A fine furniture maker in Avyo. Village carpenter.

  Concerning the Denizens of Endshere

  Allin Anan, formerly Emms, son of Gallie and Zehr, brother of Loee, twin brother of Tadd, husband to Palma Anan. Came to Marrowdell as a babe. Now lives in Endshere as barkeep in Palma’s inn.

  Bliss, not nice person.

  Cammi, postmistress.

  Dinorwic, thief and smuggler.

  Great Gran (Caryn Anan), great-grandmother of the family. Former resident of Marrowdell.

  Hager Comber, son of Harty, village smith.

  Harty Comber, father of Hager, village smith.

  Larah Anan, Palma’s brother. Clears tables in the inn.

  Palma Anan, sister of Larah, wife of Allin. Born and raised in Endshere. Owns and operates The Good Night’s Sleep inn. Author.

  Shedden, village healer.

  Upsala, one-eyed trader who sold Bannan his ox.

  Encountered in Channen

  Abeek Harrow, baroness.

  Appin Arkona, sect member.

  Baldrinn Duart, bargemaster, former acquaintance of Frann and Lorra.

  Birr, artisan.

  Bish Fingal, one of Emon’s companions.

  Cheek
, one of Emon’s crows.

  Dawnn Blysse, artisan.

  Dokis, another not nice person.

  Dutton Omemee, one of Emon’s companions.

  Emon Westietas, father of Semyn and Werfol, husband of Lila. Baron, holding the seat for Vorkoun in the House of Keys.

  Glammis Lurgan, collector.

  Herer, one of Emon’s companions.

  Leott, artisan.

  Lila Westietas, nee Larmensu, mother of Semyn and Werfol, wife of Emon, sister of Bannan. Baroness.

  Plevna, artisan.

  Rhonnda Taff, artisan.

  Scatterwit, one of Emon’s crows.

  Thomm, artisan.

  The Making of the Shadow District

  Before I sat down to start A Turn of Light, I’d found my inspiration for the next fantastical setting to be encountered by Jenn Nalynn—and you. I needed somewhere very different, yet as grounded in reality as Marrowdell’s village. What did I have in mind? Everything a writer experiences is grist for the creative mill. After my guest stint at Armadillocon 2006 (a simply wonderful convention in Austin, Texas), Roger and I took a couple of days to explore the famed River Walk of San Antonio, Texas.

  It was late August and the air at street level was closer to a sauna than anything I’d encountered outdoors. The skin of my legs actually hurt. Being determined tourists, we followed a small sign to a staircase by an arched bridge. The stairs seemed to take us inside a tree. (Interesting of itself.)

  But they led down to another world. The air turned to silk, cool and moist. Music was playing, softly. A canal of dark, gleaming water—with turtles—curled into the distance. On either side, walkways followed along, here lined with planters of flowers and little cafes with bright awnings, there between old stone walls and writhing roots. While around every bend, bridges arched overhead and vegetation cloaked the world above.

  What better mix of inspiration (for us both, as my other half is a photographer) and romance (need I say more?)? We’d leave to walk to our hotel (mistakenly up in the concrete jungle and blocks away), only to turn back to the canals for relief. Trust me, sometimes we’d stand there and laugh at the amazing change. At others, we’d be silent and in awe.