A Whisper of Wings (6 page)

“I speak survival! Don’t act the fool with me. I know you, girl. I know you better than any father ever has.”

Zhukora stood and thrust into the bushes. Moments later her angry wings could be heard whirring through the underbrush. The Priest Kanoochi rose, one hand slowly stroking across a dead, dry skull.

“Shall I send a Ka to follow her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! The girl would sense you in an instant!” The old woman waved her assistant down. “Powerful, young, angry! She might be the one we need. We shall watch and wait; our journey may have brought us interesting gifts.”

Shadarii fussed with the last few straps of her dancing costume. Somewhere in the distance, dinner sizzled on the fire, and the delicious smell of roasted lizard made a cruel distraction. Shadarii’s mouth watered as she thought of tender, hot white flesh between her teeth…

“Shadarii! Pay attention girl, there’s no time for a rehearsal. We must get this right the first time or not at all!”

Mistress Traveesha’s voice speared through the air. Shadarii hurried over to her side, still fumbling with her halter straps. Most dancers lacked Shadarii’s impressive weight of breasts, and so costumes from the dance school’s stores were always a nightmare for the girl to try and wear.

Javïra had supposedly dressed herself to represent the sunlight. As usual she had taken liberties with the design of her costume. Many dances were performed naked, and others were made while wearing complex ritual garb; Javïra had struck a compromise designed to show off her over-vaunted charms. Shadarii simply rolled her eyes and snorted in disgust.

Javïra had made comment after comment as Shadarii desperately struggled into her gear. As she bent over to swing her heavy breasts into their restraints she had heard the spiteful laughter from behind. Traveesha seemed oblivious to it all. The Dancing mistress gathered the girls beneath her wings and bubbled in delight.

“The plan is simple. You shall be doing a ‘summer greeting’ dance in three axis. Improvise a rhythm change to lead the musicians after that. Javïra, I’ll trust you at that point. Try to tailor something suitable to the crowd.”

The Dancing mistress closed her eyes and held aloft one elegant black hand.

“Now no errors. No mistakes! Shadarii, this is a good chance for you to show your worth. I expect the two of you to shine!”

Javïra smiled at Shadarii like a well fed cat, reaching out to take her dancing mask within her supple claws. The dancing mistress slapped Shadarii smartly on the rump.

“Go children, go! Good winds to you. Now hurry!”

The girls flitted off into the evening air, bells tinkling merrily behind them. Shadarii swam into the trees to perch in silence while butterflies of anticipation danced within her breast. Her own performance! With her identity concealed, there would be no one to laugh at the village cripple; hidden safe beneath her mask, Shadarii knew that she could shine.

Far below, the clan shared a feast with their important visitors, teeming hundreds of nobles and commoners crowding around the council fire. A ground oven opened to the joyous shouts of revellers, giving up a delicious scent of roasted kangaroo, but for once Shadarii felt too intoxicated to pay attention to the thought of food. Her senses quivered with delicious sensitivity; tonight she felt more alive than she had ever felt before.

“Ahooooooooo!”

Javïra’s call shivered out across the night. Her slim figure posed against the skyline, her arms thrown out to catch the wind. She leapt through the air and fell into a graceful dive. ïsha erupted as the sacred circle suddenly blazed with light.

A cheer ran through the villagers as the dancers hurtled overhead. ïsha roared beneath Shadarii’s wings, and with an excited gasp she plunged down towards the ground, landing in the sacred circle with her head thrown back in joy.

The crowd shouted while the dancers leapt and kicked the air. Safe inside her gorgeous costume, Shadarii slowly felt herself tingling to the thrill. ïsha sparked and tribesmen cheered as Shadarii rode the waves of joy with laughter bubbling in her heart.

The two girls whirled their tails and cut the circle boundaries. According to tradition, dances held within a sacred circle were inviolate. By slashing through the circle the dancers gave an invitation to their audience.

Flutes fluttered in a cue; it was time to change the rhythm. Javïra signalled, making Shadarii spring high into the sky, but to Shadarii’s surprise the other girl stayed firmly on the ground. Javïra threw out her hands and stopped her dance, posing in grinning triumph for the audience.

Shadarii sailed up into the air alone. The musicians had all acted on Javïra’s cue, suddenly stopping short; Shadarii had been deliberately set up to be a fool.

Never!

Shadarii rolled and tumbled in sky, the firelight rippling through her orange fur. She landed in the centre of the sacred circle, hurtling herself into a triumphant pirouette. She danced her heart out in a dizzy swirl of joy. Shadarii streamed with energy, the ïsha rising out to swirl in brilliant shapes about her to hold the crowd enthralled.

Nochorku-Zha went back to gazing at the dance. He scratched his hide and wondered who the fat little dancer in the ribbons might be.

Out beside the fires, Shadarii swam in a dizzy cloud of ïsha. A young Priestess stiffened as an eerie shape came to settle like a whirling cloak about the dancer’s wings.

“Reverence, look!”

The dancer threw back her hair, hurtling out her arms to greet the wandering Ka, and it danced with her in joyous harmony. One by one more spirits came to join the revelry. They swooped and swished between the crowds, rattling the pots and tickling the children. One pretty girl squeaked in alarm as her skirts were lifted by a passing ghost. The High Priestess watched the dance in growing fascination, then sank back into folds of fat and slowly stroked her chin.

“I confess your youngest daughter interests me, Nochorku-Zha. She seems to have long been kept within the shadows.”

“She has little enough to recommend her, Reverence. A sharp pair of eyes and nothing more. Good hips! She’d spawn eggs like a fish if she had brains enough to snare a husband. Hmph! Small chance of that. A speechless girl is no use to anybody.”

Out on the open ground, Javïra fumed in rage. Her trick had failed; far from being a laughing stock, Shadarii had moved in to steal the show. The audience clapped to Shadarii’s beat, yelling in encouragement as she whirled deliriously before them. Javïra furiously leapt into the light, snatching up her place beside Shadarii. The red haired girl took Javïra’s hand, forgiving her for ever having left her in the lurch.

Javïra snarled. As Shadarii skipped her way between the fires, Javïra jammed out her foot. With a jerk of terror Shadarii tripped and fell, her left hand plunging deep into the coals.

Shadarii hurtled back her head and gave a silent scream. The ïsha ripped with agony, and all laughter died. Tears streaming from her eyes, the dancer gazed in shock at Javïra’s triumphant face.

Javïra laughed aloud, her cruel voice ringing in the hush. The girl pointed at Shadarii’s hand and shrieked with mirth. The laugh went on and on, mocking at Shadarii’s pain. The gentle dancer staggered to her feet, her heart suddenly brimming up with hate. The Ka gathered all around her soul.

ïsha punched out like a giant’s fist, smashing Javïra to the ground. Javïra croaked, her eyes standing out in shock, and Shadarii advanced a pace, her body trembling in rage. She clenched her blistered fist and slammed the ïsha hard into Javïra’s guts.

Lightning blazed; Javïra screamed as something tore inside her. Power ripped up the ground like the lash of a gigantic whip, blasting fur from Javïra’s hide and smashing her against a wattle tree. The girl writhed across the dust and howled in agony.

“Stop! Please! Someone help me! Shadarii, I didn’t mean it. Please don’t!” She crawled away in panic, cringing in the dirt. “Help me! For Rain’s sake, someone do something!”

Shadarii moved in for the kill, a ball of lightning shaping in her fist, but suddenly the storm of ïsha died inside her claws. Shadarii snapped her head around to see the High Priestess shielding Javïra’s back.

Shadarii’s anger died as she blinked in shock at her snivelling victim. The High Priestess strode into the sacred circle waving genially with her arms.

Shadarii helplessly shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her injured hand. She hadn’t meant… She-she had never wanted to really hurt…

The old Priestess smiled and tried to soothe the crowd.

“Peace! Peace good people! An excited girl - a blaze of pain. The Ka merely lashed out in her defence. Possession, that is all. T’is best the episode ends here.”

Shadarii stumbled over to Javïra’s side, her face torn by anguish. She tried to reach out in apology, only to be met by Traveesha’s snarling fangs.

Shadarii wept in misery, as the healer murmured spells across Shadarii’s injured hand. The agony of the burn slowly faded as magic lit the forest gloom.

The healing came only slowly. Shadarii’s mind had turned blank with shock; her world had shattered like a ball of ice. Better they should let her die. Never to dance? What was she to do? Rain help her, what was she to do?

Something dark and deadly burst in through the night. Zhukora stood over her, shivering with rage.

“Father may have done with you, but I haven’t! You’ve shamed us before the High Priestess and dragged our family’s name into the dirt! Your one chance to be some use to us and now look what you’ve done. Are you satisfied? Well?”

Shadarii utterly ignored her, her eyes lost inside a nightmare. The girl rocked back and forth, back and forth… Zhukora shrieked in anger.

“Listen to me! Did you hear just what I said?”

Zhukora lashed out with her fist and Shadarii’s head snapped back, blood spraying from her mouth. She made no move to defend herself, no cry or squeal of pain; Shadarii simply lay where she fell. With a cry of hate Zhukora flew up into the family lodge and firmly slammed the door.

Shadarii let the healer quietly help her to her feet. The girl simply sat upon a log and felt her daydreams die.

***

The burial ground lay waiting. Trees reached out with jagged claws to scrape against the cliffs, creaking softly in the breeze. The branches whispered dreadful secrets in the dark, plucking at their shrouds of dying leaves.

A living creature broke the breathless quiet, reeling blindly through the dark. Grave markers* leered from the shadows as dry raven’s bones scattered emptily across the ground.

The burial grove of the summer village was a very special place, for it was here that Shadarii’s mother lay. The mother she had never known; who had never held her newborn baby girl.

The mother she had slain.

The marker stood just as she had left it. The grave tree mouldered in comfortable silence, covered in plates of cheerful orange fungus. Shadarii crammed herself against the rotten bark, bright tears staining the bark as the girl wept in torment.

The girl’s grief sent ripples chasing through the ïsha fields. Far above her, the forest seemed to take a breath of wonder. Something marvellous began to happen; rising from the stillness of the woods, a shining Ka began to fill the air with light.

Mama!

Shadarii shed tears in grief and joy, gasping as the loving spirit spilled around her face. The girl joined with her mother in an ecstasy of communion, drinking in the love that she had never known in waking life.