In the shadow of the moon,
She danced in the starlight
Whispering a haunting tune
To the night...
Velvet skirts spun 'round and 'round
Fire in her stare
In the woods without a sound
No one cared...
Through the darkened fields entranced,
Music made her poor heart dance,
Thinking of a lost romance
Long ago...
~Shadow of the Moon (song by Blackmore's Night)
... two years later.
Velvet skirts spun to the beat of the drum; leather fringe twirled as her hips swayed and her bare feet pattered across the wooden stage. Her heartbeat quickened and slowed to match the rhythm of the song. The sash over her shoulders whirled in a flurry of blue and bronze as she moved her arms.
Edaline stopped and gave the audience a bow. Reeling off to the left, breathless and exhausted, she collapsed on an overturned bucket backstage.
“Ma’am?” Edaline stood, looking at her aching feet to conceal the guilt on her face. No sitting down on the job, she had told her apprentice just that morning. A sandy blonde head peeked between the amber door curtains, a knowing smile on the tan and freckled face. “Taking back your word?”
“Crysi,” Edaline sighed. Rolling her eyes, she sat down again with a silent exclamation of relief; but her face still frowned. “Don’t call me ‘ma’am’. I’m not twice your age.”
“Are too.” Nine-year-old Apprentice Crysi stuck out her tongue as she stepped fully into the tent. As befitted her station, she bowed, her hair brushing the threadbare red carpet. Edaline ran her fingers through her own waist-length brown curls and brushed them out of her sweaty face.
“Rise,” she said. “You wanted to say…”
“Ah, yes, Miss Lin. A customer called for you.”
“What?”
“Well, that’s what he says.” Crysi crossed her arms over her chest and mimicked the man’s deep voice and foreign accent. “I paid extra for my ticket ‘cause all the others were sold. I want to see the lady who dances. And, Miss, he does look rich.”
“’Lady’? My god…” Edaline stood, wincing as splinters of the stage dug deeper into the soles of her feet, and straightened her skirt. “Show him in, go on.”
“Surely, milady.” Crysi grinned and disappeared, leaving the door hangings waving. The curtains’ gentle undulations had not yet ceased when a hand parted the folds and a copper-haired stranger entered the tent.
“Lady Edaline.” He bowed and took off a hat with a blue feather. Lin was sure she had seen his eyes before – deep green, almost black eyes that gave her chills through the sweltering desert heat. She backed towards the wall.
“Who are you? Where do you come from?” The note of terror in her voice refused to subdue. Concern flickered through his eyes like green lightening in a thundercloud.
“Frightened? Forgive me; do I come at an unfortunate moment?” His voice was softer and more melodious than Crysi’s imitation. He took a step forward. Lin glanced from him to the door flap behind him, and her eyes flicked to the stage. She grimaced at the thought of the splintery floor, and then she ran.
He caught up with her halfway across and grabbed her wrist. She whirled.
“Let go,” she said, her voice weak from anxiety. His left hand went to her waist; his right placed the hat back on his head and clamped solidly around her hand.
“The audience,” he whispered. “Think.”
Her mind refused to obey him and went blank. She lost herself in the starting hum of the pipe, the twang of the mandolin, the beats of the drum, and the dance, of which she knew not a step until it was done.
Whoever the stranger was and however much he scared her, Lin admitted that at the very least he could dance. She lost track of the time.
“Bow,” he whispered to her after what was perhaps an eternity.
They left the stage hand in hand.
Once free from the prison of the audience’s gaze, she wrenched her hand from his and stepped away.
“What do you want?”
“So hostile? All right, I won’t mind, but don’t run again. I find dancing exhausts me tremendously. Care to sit down?”
“No chairs,” she said. Her breath came in short gasps. He sat on the sand.
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Lin glared at him and perched on the bucket.
“Where are you from?”
“Where are you from?”
“Meaning what? I’m from here.”
“No, you aren’t, you weren’t here when I passed through this town a year ago, or two years, or three. No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before today.”
“Have you seen me elsewhere?”
“That’s an interesting question.” He smiled. “Perhaps I have.” She stood.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I have to go… I’m – I’m meeting someone.” Her legs trembled, and she felt her voice may have as well. He got up and blocked the door.
“You couldn’t possibly know the time.” In the village square the bell tower tolled twice, and Lin smiled triumphantly.
“I’m psychic,” she said. “Let me pass, if you please.” He stood aside.
“I teach dance and I travel the country. I call the world my home.”
“What?”
“I’m answering your questions. You answered mine, so it’s only fair.”
Lin suppressed a shudder and walked purposefully north. She turned when she no longer felt his eyes on her and looped around to the other door of the tent. Crysi jumped as she entered.
“Miss Lin? Aren’t you supposed to be giving your show?”
Lin twirled her sash about her fingers. “I’ll be brief. I can’t, I give up, and I’m leaving.”
Crysi jumped up and stared at her. “Leaving? Why? Is that stranger taking you away? Am I coming too?”
Lin shook her head. “I can’t really explain, but no, it… no, not with him. I need to leave this place. And that means leaving you behind.”
Crysi was uncharacteristically silent, and appeared to be thinking. Lin left to pack her belongings. She had slung her silver purse over her shoulder and was ready to leave when Crysi came in and sat on the cot.
“So,” she said cheerily. “What happens to me?”
Lin thought. “You want to dance?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? It’s hard work. Crysi, it’s still not too late. You can choose another line of work.”
“No. I want to dance. I like dancing.” Tears pooled in Crysi’s eyes. “And no one else in this stupid town will teach me.”
“Wait here.”
Lin rushed out of the tent and to the nearest vendor’s stall. “Have you seen a man with a blue feather in his hat?” she asked the thin, gaunt woman selling baubles. “With green-black eyes?”
The woman smiled ruefully and pointed towards the village square. Lin ran. She stood on the rim of the fountain to see. A blue plume there – no, a lady’s hat. One in the west end – no, more turquoise than blue.
“Can’t find him?” Lin turned and lost her balance, tipping towards the fountain. A familiar hand caught her wrist, and the black-eyed stranger swung her down to the ground.
Lin’s mind went blank. He blinked, awaiting an answer. “Will you take a pupil?” she finally asked.
“A pupil?” His brows knit together in concern.
“Yes. Her name is Crysi and she’s ten years old and she wants to learn to dance and she’s my apprentice at the moment but she can’t be much longer and no one in the town will take her in… Please?”
“Why can’t you continue teaching her?”
Lin’s heart hammered against her ribcage. She had no answer. “I’m dying. Slowly, it’s a strange disease, but the healers have guaranteed I won’t be around much longer.”
Recognition, or perhaps déjà vu, crept onto his face. “All right.”
“Thank you.”
~
So, this is the part that is, quite obviously, about Edaline, and how she decides to leave her home. Let's guess where she's going.
Any comments would be much appreciated.
.
It's definitely interesting.
