Jo Clayton Dancers 02 Serpent Waltz

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easily off the tongue as the skin off the tubers. The wake-gong is
a silver cry, she sang ....
The wake-gong is a silver cry
Rising in a rosy sky
Waking souls from easeful sleep
The work-gong is a brazen call
Crying out to one and all
You ve chores to do and vows to keep.
The noon-gong is a golden air calling to the midday fare ....
She broke off as Chaya came round the table and sat stiffly on the bench
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beside her. Think you could cut up some onion for me? There s not a stew
worth eating with-out a bit of onion in it.
Chaya worked silently, peeling the bulbs then quarter-ing them, setting them
on a tin plate when she finished. Where we going? she said finally.
Ahwu, I thought we d go find Lavan and then the Ar-biters like you told Bel
you were going to do.
Chaya s hands started shaking and the color drained from her face. She set the
knife down carefully;
even so it clattered against the plate. She got to her feet and went to sit on
the back steps of the van, her hands limp on her thighs as she stared out past
the trees.
Idiot! You know better. Calling Lavan s name when she hasn t even got herself
together; let alone her and him. Ahwu, leave her be for a while longer, then
we ll see ....
She tipped the onion into the pot with the shreds of dried meat, chopped-up
tubers and the rest of the ingredients, added water, and hung the pot from
the hook above the fire. Keep an eye on the stew, she called. I need to
fill the water barrels.
Sekhaya took her blankets and stretched out beneath the van to get what sleep
she could before nightfall. Chaya was walking around under the trees, touching
them as if she saw a strangeness in them, though they looked like ordinary
shade trees, yeshes with their lacy char-treuse leaves, pulas with their gray
bark and huge arching limbs and the whispering muthis, their dark green leaves
hanging from fine, limber threads, brushing against each other at the, least
hint of a breeze, a few stray conifers adding piquancy to the mix.
Sekhaya yawned, tied a black scarf about her eyes, and wriggled around until
she was comfortable; after the long sleepless night and the ten-sion, she had
no difficulty in dropping off.
She woke in twilight to hear Chaya talking to someone. But if you re just
born, how do you know?
A rustle in the leaves.
Because your mother gave it to you, though she doesn t know she knows. Who s
your mother?
Rustle.
I don t understand. Who?
Rustle.
But if she s trying to stop this ....
Rustle.
Sekhaya rolled from her blankets, got groggily to her feet, pulling the scarf
off as she rose; sleeping in the day-time always left her feeling as if her
head were stuffed with rocks. She saw Chaya sitting on a bench talking to a
glimmer of green and gold that almost resolved into a form that
vanished as her movements disturbed it. What was that, kaz?
Dryad. There s a colony of them here. Chaya brushed at her face, then looked
down. A small black snake was curled in her lap, its head resting on the arm
she hadn t moved. She smiled. I found
Wily and fed him some of your milk powder. Palaia, that s the dryad, she came
to watch and she started talking to me.
Sekhaya patted a yawn and strolled closer. Shadows from the trees brushed back
and forth across
Chaya s face, making it difficult to read. It seemed to her there was a slight
flush on her name-child s cheeks, a glassy glitter to her eyes; she didn t
want her interest to be too obvious, so she squatted to look at the snake.
He s just a little thing. Will you bring him along?
You don t mind?
He can keep the mice out of my herbs. She chuckled. Earn him his milk
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powder. She leaned on the bench, pushed herself up, brushing her hand against
Chaya s arm. Put him inside and see about heating some water for us while
I collect Joma and give him some corn, will you do that, kaz? The arm was
warmer than it should be, but not enough to worry about, could be just the
heal-ing.
I ll slip some dullah in her cha, that should do the job.
It d help get us ready to move on.
Sekhaya watched Chaya make a face at the bitterness of her drink; to distract
her, she said, What were you talking about, you and the dryad?
Things .... Chaya stroked the small black snake coiled on the table beside
her. How she came here ... and ... and something about the Glorymen ....
Mmh?
She was born a few weeks ago, just about the time my uncle had his bright
idea .... Her voice trailed off.
Sekhaya sat with her hands quiet in her lap, her eyes on the flicker of the
fire.
After a moment, Chaya went on, She says the Glory gets stronger each time a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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