Dancing Days

by Val St. Crowe

  Chapter Three

  It was late morning when Nora emerged from Phoebe Rain’s tent. She thought about wandering through it to see if Owen was sleeping in the tent somewhere as well, but thought she might encounter Phoebe asleep somewhere, and that seemed a little impolite.

  The sun was high in the sky outside. In the daylight, Nora could see her surroundings better. The fire pit was nothing more than smoking embers now, but around it, she could see tents, clustered together in small groups, stretching as far as she could see. They weren’t the kind of tents you bought at a camping supply store, made of synthetic grays and blues, but instead were like Indian teepees, except crafted from the every color of the rainbow. Some had flags extending from their main poles, making them look like medieval pavilions or something.

  The tents appeared to be grouped around smaller fire pits. Between them, Nora could see fields of lush, green grass. Far to her left, a sparkling stream wound through Helicon, complete with a bridge to get back and forth. On the other side of the stream, she could see greenhouses glinting in the sunlight. But everything seemed quiet and still, as opposed to the frenzied crowd of revelers the night before. The world was pristine and bright. She drew fresh air deep into her lungs, savoring the scents of summer.

  She wondered where Owen was. If he was inside Phoebe’s tent, then she supposed he’d wake up eventually. Despite her euphoria the night before, dancing and feeling at home, in the morning light, she felt like a stranger in a foreign land. No one seemed to be awake yet. At least, she couldn’t see anyone. Maybe everyone slept late here in Helicon.

  Truthfully, she could hardly believe she was here. It was one thing for Owen to tell her stories about this place, it was another thing to actually be there. As a little girl, she’d believed Owen when he said that coming here would solve all their problems, that it was a magical land of constant happiness and perfection. She wanted to believe that now. But she had no idea where Owen was. She didn’t see any other people—not that she was sure she wanted to talk to anyone she didn’t know right now anyway. And she was hungry.

  Her stomach rumbled at her as if to punctuate her thought.

  The table of food from the night before was still sitting next to the fire pit, and though it had been picked over, there was still food sitting on it. Nora thought that some of the prepared dishes might not be good after sitting out all night, but there was fruit left, and certainly that would be okay to eat. She made her way over and selected a few round, greenish fruits. They were fuzzy on the outside like peaches, and sweet and juicy inside. She also put some apples in one of the pockets in the skirt she was wearing. She sat down on one of the benches around the fire pit and ate, wiping away fruit juice as best she could. Her fingers were going to get sticky. Was there any way to wash her hands besides going to the baths she’d been in last night? And how clean could those things really be if all of the muses used them? There were hundreds of people here. The water hadn’t been stagnant, and it came from natural hot springs, so she supposed it was less likely to be growing the sorts of disgusting funguses you might find in a pond, but it certainly wasn’t treated, was it? Was there bacteria in Helicon? Parasites?

  There was a clunking sound, and Nora looked up to see a pudgy man making his way down to the food table. The clunking was coming from four wooden buckets that he was carrying, which were knocking against each other as he walked.

  She stood up. “Hello.”

  The man gave her a confused look.

  Oh. Right. Muse language. She had to remember to speak that. “Hello,” she said again, this time in the language of Helicon.

  The man smiled. He was wearing a loose white tunic, and his hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “You’re one of the ones they pulled out of the fire last night, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “Nora Sparrow.”

  “Mack River,” he said. “Sorry to say I don’t remember all the hullaboo about why you left us in the first place. I tend to skip council meetings or sleep through them when I actually do show up.”

  “Well, I was just a kid. I don’t remember it,” Nora said. She felt awkward. She’d been excited to see someone else, but she had no idea how to conduct a conversation in this place. Was it customary to remark on the weather? She remembered that Owen had explained to her, long ago, that the muses organized themselves in various enclaves devoted to different creative enterprises. Owen said there were enclaves for story and dance and even math. There were too many to keep straight. Owen said some of the muses spend all their time in one enclave, while others flitted about from one to the other. “Um, do you belong to a certain enclave here?”

  The man chuckled. “Sort of, I guess. I’m the only member, though. I breed chimeras. I was actually up here to gather up the leftover feast food to take back to feed the animals.”

  “Chimeras?” Nora had heard the word before, but she wasn’t sure what it meant.

  The man nodded. “Oh yeah. You take different animals and sort of squish them together. Some come out better than others, of course. The winged horses are always popular. You see those everywhere. But right now I’m working on duck-cats.”

  Nora furrowed her brow, trying to picture it. “A mixture of a duck and cat?”

  “Yeah. They’re very cute. Eat just about anything too. These feast leftovers will be a real treat for them.”

  Nora still couldn’t picture it. “Do you need any help taking the food back to them?”

  The man handed her a bucket. “Sure thing, if you don’t might. Just scoop whatever you can into here.”

  A few minutes later, Nora set out after Mack carrying two buckets full of feast leftovers. They wound through the colored tents, over a footbridge that spanned a wide stream, and into a wooded area. If Nora turned, she couldn’t see the fire pit anymore, but she thought she’d be able to make her way back.

  Mack’s tent was squat and brown. It had seven or eight poles holding it up, so that it spanned the area of a small cottage. All around it, within the tree trunks, were strange and wonderful animals. There were two white horses with silvery wings, grazing beyond the tent. A dog with the hind legs of a kangaroo hopped forward to greet them, its long tongue hanging out of its mouth as it panted and grinned. Three or four rooster-headed snakes slithered near the entrance of Mack’s tent. One made a sort of hissing crowing noise.

  “This isn’t all of them,” said Mack. “Sometimes, if they’re useful, they get sent off to other enclaves to help out. Some of them are just shy.”

  Nora wasn’t sure what she thought about the mixed-up animals. “Where are the duck cats?”

  “Oh, they’re still kitten-ducklings,” said Mack. “They’re inside. Come on.” He led her into his tent. Inside it was dimly lit. The floor was covered with swaths of soft fabric. There were a few overstuffed easy chairs sitting against the tent walls. Immediately, six kitten-ducklings came bobbing out. They had cat heads, but long duck necks, bodies, and feet. They were completely covered in fur, however, not feathers, except for their webbed feet. They were all different colors. One was the yellow of a baby duck, another pure white, two striped orange and white, and the final one was black with a white spot over one eye. They began rubbing against Mack’s feet, making sounds that were half quacks and half meows.

  Nora was charmed. She set down her bucket and sat down on the ground, reaching out to pet them. The kitten-ducklings purred as she scratched them under their chins. The little black one hopped into her lap and curled up on her thigh. “They’re so tiny!”

  “Yeah,” said Mack. “I can’t decide whether to let them mature into grown-ups or keep them like this.”

  “You can stop them from growing?”

  “Sure thing. Every muse can do that, even to ourselves. Most muses stop aging at some point or another. I was twenty-five for nearly fifty years. I aged normally for another fifteen, but I’ve been forty for quite some time now. It’s a good age.”

  “So I could do that
too?”

  “Absolutely.”

  How strange. But how would she decide what age to stop at? Should she stop now? But maybe her boobs would get bigger if she waited. Of course, maybe she’d get fat. Nora chewed on her lip, absently stroking the little black kitten-duckling in her lap.

  Mack spooned some of the feast leftovers into little dishes for the kitten-ducklings, who rushed over to begin eating. “So, you were born a muse, but you got stuck in the mundane world for over ten years, huh?”

  Nora nodded.

  “Must be strange coming here now,” said Mack. “You must feel like you don’t know where you belong.”

  Nora had been contemplating how different Helicon was, how she didn’t feel comfortable.

  “Thing is,” said Mack, “Helicon’s a good place for most anyone, no matter what your fancy is. When I started wanting to breed these chimeras, most people thought I was crazy. They said there was no call for inspiration threads about mismatched animals. But they let me do it anyway, and some of them even like the chimeras. We’re all freaks at heart, you know? Everyone’s different.”

  Nora smiled. What he’d said had been comforting, she had to admit. “I like your chimeras.”

  She helped Mack feed his animals, but afterwards, she started to feel uncomfortable again, like she didn’t really belong up here with him. She also wanted to find Owen. He had to be around here somewhere, didn’t he? She’d go back to the fire pit. Owen would probably look for her there. Besides, Phoebe Rain’s tent was right next to it, and Phoebe was the only other person she knew in Helicon. So, she said goodbye to Mack and made her way out of his tent. He followed her, waving from the opening. But as she began to walk away, she noticed that the little black kitten-duckling was coming after her. She stopped and picked it up. She was going to take it back to Mack.

  Mack shook his head. “I think she likes you. Why don’t you keep her? They’re easy to take care of. Got a very independent cat temperament. And they eat most anything.”

  A pet? She’d never had one, not of her own. There had been one foster family that had owned a bunch of hunting dogs, but they’d been penned up in the back yard and had always barked and growled at her. Nora stroked the head of the kitten-duckling, who purred in contentment. “Thanks,” she said to Mack. She went back to the fire pit with it curled up in one arm.

  As she walked, she noticed that there was more activity in Helicon than there had been before she went to Mack’s tent. Muses were standing outside their tents stretching. Some were milling about. In the distance, she could hear faint strains of music carrying on the wind. Owen had always said that the muses created all day long. Their purpose was to create things that sent inspiration for creativity to the mundane world. She guessed that meant that musically inclined muses made music pretty much as soon as they woke up.

  She hoped it was okay to have this kitten-duckling as a pet. She realized maybe she should have left it with Mack. After all, she didn’t really have anywhere to keep it now. Was she going to be sleeping in Phoebe’s tent for a long time? Would Phoebe object to the cat-duck being around? If so, Nora would simply have to take it back to Mack. For now, she stroked its head as she walked.

  When she arrived at the fire pit, no one was there. There were other muses standing around their tents nearby, but they paid no attention to Nora. She sat down on one of the benches around the fire pit as she’d done earlier. The kitten-duckling hopped out of her arms and began furiously rubbing against her, purring like a fire engine. She giggled at it, scratching behind its ears. She should have asked Mack whether it was a boy or a girl. She couldn’t really check, as its nether regions were duck, not cat, and it didn’t seem to be displaying its gender between its legs. Then she remembered that Mack had called the little animal a “she” as Nora had been leaving. So, it was a girl. And perhaps it needed a name. “What would you like to be called?” she crooned. It was half-cat, half-duckling... “How about Catling?”

  Catling emitted a squawking meow. Nora took it as acceptance of the name. She absently pet Catling and looked around for signs of Owen. He had to be somewhere, didn’t he?

  There was a loud cracking sound, and in front of her, the fire pit lit up purply-red.

  Nora stood up, hugging Catling to her chest.

  A huge beam of crackling purple energy emanated out of the fire pit, reaching for the sky. At its ends, sparks bent off like branches on a tree, bolts of lightning like she’d seen the day she’d shown the picture. They were like sparkling fingers, reaching out from the fire pit.

  Nora tried to back away, but her feet got tangled up in the bench she’d been sitting on and she thumped down hard onto it again, her backside stinging.

  There were screams and yells as other muses nearby had noticed the strange light in the fire pit.

  “Get away from there!” yelled a voice, and then someone had her by the arm, dragging Nora away from the bright thing—which now resembled a kind of octopus made of lightning, tendrils of light sweeping out over the landscape of Helicon.

  “Down,” said the voice at her ear.

  Nora shot a glance at the person who was now yanking her to the ground. It was a girl, maybe her age. She had a round face and dark hair. Together, they lay flat against the ground.

  The tendrils were striking things—trees, tents, benches, the ground—and as they did, they shriveled up, their ends solidifying, dropping solid biscuit-shaped red things to the ground where they’d hit something. One of the red cylinders rolled over in front of Nora’s face. She eyed it, her breath coming in gasps. What was going on here?

  As the beams of light hit things, they gradually all began to transform and shrivel, until there was nothing left but a glowing mass of light in the fire pit. The girl who’d pulled Nora to the ground sat up, so Nora did too.

  “Nora!” Owen was rushing to her. He skidded to the ground, his arms going around her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “What was that?”

  He crushed her against him. “I thought it was going to get you. It’s the Influence. Don’t you remember it?”

  The Influence? Why was it coming out of the fire pit in Helicon?

  Phoebe’s voice rang out. “Alexander!” Phoebe was standing outside her tent at the edge of the fire pit.

  A man in jeans and a white t-shirt hurried forward. “Here,” he said. He must be Alexander, Nora decided.

  “You need to take a team and close this portal,” Phoebe said. “Clearly, the path that Owen and Nora used to get to us last night has been left open and the Influence has found it.”

  Nora put a hand over her mouth. This was their fault?

  Owen stood up. “I volunteer to be part of the team.”

  Nora stood up behind him. He was leaving her again? Typical Owen. And she didn’t know anyone here. Plus, it might be dangerous, not that Owen particularly cared about that. She touched his shoulder. “Owen, stay.”

  Owen patted her hand, but didn’t respond.

  Alexander was sizing Owen up. “You opened this portal.”

  “Which is exactly why I should be the one to help close it,” said Owen. “I’m not vulnerable to the Influence like the muses are. Let me help.”

  “Phoebe,” another man spoke up, “how do we know this boy didn’t open this portal on purpose? Maybe he’s leading our people into a trap.”

  The muses who’d gathered around mumbled amongst themselves, eyeing Owen with suspicion.

  “I didn’t know the portal would stay open,” said Owen. “I wouldn’t want to put Helicon in danger. This is the only place I’ve ever been welcome. Let me correct my mistake.”

  Nora bit her lip. She didn’t want Owen to go, but she didn’t want everyone suspicious of him either. And if they were suspicious of Owen, perhaps they’d also be suspicious of her.

  “We don’t have time to debate,” said Phoebe. “Alexander, I leave it up to you.”

  Alexander jammed his hands into his pockets. “You
can come,” he said. “But we’re keeping an eye on you.”

  Owen nodded once, apparently satisfied.

  Alexander yelled out five or six more names, and more people dressed in jeans and t-shirts came running to him. He spoke softly to them and to Owen, and Nora couldn’t make out what he was talking about. Then, without warning, all of them turned and leapt into the middle of the glowing pit. They disappeared.

  Nora felt queasy. What had just happened? She was so confused. At her feet, Catling rubbed against her ankles and mewed. She picked the tiny furball up. Where had Owen gone? Was he going to be okay?

  The girl who’d pulled Nora away touched her tentatively. “Hey, he’ll be okay. The Influence only hurts muses.”

  Nora turned to look at the girl. She was smiling. She was young enough that she hadn’t shed a layer of baby fat, but her figure let Nora know that she wasn’t a little kid. “Thanks for getting me out of the way.”

  “Sure,” said the girl. “I’m Madeleine Salt. Most people call me Maddie, though.” She offered Nora her hand.

  Nora shook it. “Nora Sparrow.”

  Maddie looked away shyly. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

  Right. Nora guessed that she was probably the talk of Helicon, showing up the way she had. “What do you mean, it only hurts muses? Weren’t the other people who jumped into the portal muses?”

  “Oh, no, they’re the muse police,” said Maddie. “Officially, they’re called the security enclave, actually. They aren’t creative.”

  Nora didn’t understand.

  “The Influence sucks away creativity,” said Maddie. “That’s how it hurts muses. If you aren’t creative, it can’t hurt you.”

  “There are people who live here who aren’t muses?” Nora didn’t know that. Owen had never told her.

  “Sometimes,” said Maddie. “It’s because muse blood’s gotten mixed in with human blood over time. Once every four years or so someone sneaks into the mundane world and some human falls madly in love with them and then there are half-muse babies. That’s what the police do. Whenever anyone feels the ripple of a muse in the regular world, they go and get the muse and bring him here. And then because of the mixed blood, sometimes babies who aren’t creative are born to muses. So the uncreative people usually end up in the police—the security enclave. They can fight off the Influence. They have weapons and things.”

  Nora shivered, thinking of the bolt of purple lightning that had struck Owen instead of her three years ago. The Influence, as Owen had explained it to her, was the direct opposite power of the muses. The muses had powers of individual creativity. The Influence was the concentrated power of conformity. It tried to stamp out creativity wherever it could, and that included killing muses. According to Owen, it was okay for conformity and creativity to coexist for humans in the regular world, but if the Influence touched a muse, it destroyed that muse.

  Before Nora could ask anything else, Phoebe Rain’s voice carried over the conversation that had broken out after Owen and the others had disappeared. She was holding up one of the red cylinders. “You should be able to pick these up now,” she said. “Gather them up and bring them to me. They’ll have to be destroyed.”

  There was one at Nora’s feet. She reached down to pick it up. Almost immediately, she felt a surge of exhaustion go through her.

  “Don’t hold onto them for too long,” Phoebe continued. “They can be dangerous.”

  Nora showed the red cylinder to Maddie. “Do you know what these things are?”

  Maddie shook her head. “Not really. But the last time the Influence got into Helicon, those things showed up too. It’s like when it touches anything here that’s not a muse, it turns into these.”

  “Why do they make you feel so tired when you touch them?”

  “I don’t know. They probably still have some of the Influence in them,” said Maddie. She spied one a few feet away and went over to pick it up. Nora followed her. Maddie picked up her skirt so that it formed a little indentation for the red things, like carrying berries in an apron. She held it out to Nora and Nora dropped hers in. “So that Owen guy is like your boyfriend?”

  Nora shrugged. “Kind of.”

  “And you two really spent your whole life living in the mundane world, acting like humans?”

  Nora nodded.

  “Whoa,” said Maddie. “Was it horrible?”

  Nora had to grin. “A little bit horrible, yeah.” She considered. “Okay, really, really horrible. But...it’s all I’ve ever known, you know?” She glanced around at the tents and grass in Helicon. “Owen always told me this place would be better. But I don’t know anyone. And I don’t know what to do with myself. And apparently we opened up a portal getting here that nearly killed everyone.”

  “Not on purpose,” said Maddie. “They’ll fix it anyway, you’ll see. The police fix everything.” She picked up another red cylinder. “And you know me now, so it’s not like you don’t know anyone.” She smiled.

  Nora smiled back. A friend? She’d never really had one, not besides Owen, anyway. “I’m glad to know you, Maddie.”

  Maddie beamed.