existence. John’s dreaming mind created images of black holes ripping through the skies, tearing away color and light from the land the way a rupture in the hull of an airplane could whip away all life within. He shuddered in revulsion—as if those two lambs were once again dying in his hands and he could not stop it from happening.
John bolted upright.
The tent was darker, lit now by hanging oil lamps. More people had gathered inside. Many of them were in the open space at the center of the tent, dancing. John straightened his cassock. He could only catch glimpses of the people around him as they moved between the luminous oil lamps and the deep shadows of the night. Their bodies melted into one another, forming one swirling silhouette.
Music rose up from the far left side of the tent where a dozen musicians were gathered on a raised dais. John was a little surprised to see Bill among them, strumming an instrument that looked like an overgrown mandolin. Alidas leaned at the edge of the musicians’ dais, watching Bill play. He held a small bone flute in his hands. John guessed that he, too, would be playing along with the musicians.
For a few minutes, John simply watched Bill play. In Nayeshi he had never shown any aptitude for music. Or perhaps, he just hadn’t shown any interest in it. He hadn’t shown any interest in anything, really. He was the friend who everyone thought was smart enough to be outstanding in any field he chose, but who never made a choice. He had seemed content to do nothing but rent odd videos, memorize obscure, useless trivia and wander through dance parties dispensing misinformation.
Now it was strange to see him so deeply focused and eager. John noted the way Bill’s fingers slid and jumped along the strings. He could pick out the distinct tones of Bill’s music as it floated through the surrounding pipes and drums. The purity and skill of it was obvious.
John searched the wide space of the tent for Laurie. He caught sight of her at the entry, nearly opposite him. She stood beside Ohbi, watching Bill. A moment later, she glanced to the pile of cushions where John had been sleeping. Seeing him awake, she waved and held up a small bundle of what looked like bread and began working her way around the edge of the crowded tent towards him.
John caught glimpses of her between the raised arms and turning bodies of the dancers. For a second, she dropped into a deep shadow and then emerged again, her pale hair gleaming in the lamplight. She wasn’t far from him when, suddenly, a dark form seemed to melt out of the silhouettes of the dancers and jerk her back into the darkness. At first, John mistook it for a play of the flickering light.
But Laurie didn’t reappear.
A sudden fear seized John. He rushed forward, brushing dancers and onlookers aside, hardly taking note of them as he raced along the edge of the tent.
He could feel some strange power, radiating from within the curtain-like folds of the tent wall. It shimmered through the darkness like heat waves dancing across a desert horizon. It drew him.
John tore back one of the deep folds of the tent to discover Rasho Tashtu holding Laurie from behind in a tight grip. One of his thick arms crushed across her throat, while his other hand groped at her breast.
“If you don’t let me go,” Laurie hissed, “I swear I’ll kill you.”
John knew she could and would. He could feel the fury and power emanating from her in waves.
“You need a little training.” Tashtu’s words were slurred. “A real man—”
John didn’t let him get any further. He caught hold of Tashtu’s hands and ripped them off of Laurie. She immediately bolted free.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Tashtu roared. The alcoholic flush in his face looked almost black in the shadows of the tent.
“Release me, peasant!” Tashtu snarled. “I’ll have your head for this.”
He attempted to jerk free but John held him, grinding his thumbs into the
John bolted upright.
The tent was darker, lit now by hanging oil lamps. More people had gathered inside. Many of them were in the open space at the center of the tent, dancing. John straightened his cassock. He could only catch glimpses of the people around him as they moved between the luminous oil lamps and the deep shadows of the night. Their bodies melted into one another, forming one swirling silhouette.
Music rose up from the far left side of the tent where a dozen musicians were gathered on a raised dais. John was a little surprised to see Bill among them, strumming an instrument that looked like an overgrown mandolin. Alidas leaned at the edge of the musicians’ dais, watching Bill play. He held a small bone flute in his hands. John guessed that he, too, would be playing along with the musicians.
For a few minutes, John simply watched Bill play. In Nayeshi he had never shown any aptitude for music. Or perhaps, he just hadn’t shown any interest in it. He hadn’t shown any interest in anything, really. He was the friend who everyone thought was smart enough to be outstanding in any field he chose, but who never made a choice. He had seemed content to do nothing but rent odd videos, memorize obscure, useless trivia and wander through dance parties dispensing misinformation.
Now it was strange to see him so deeply focused and eager. John noted the way Bill’s fingers slid and jumped along the strings. He could pick out the distinct tones of Bill’s music as it floated through the surrounding pipes and drums. The purity and skill of it was obvious.
John searched the wide space of the tent for Laurie. He caught sight of her at the entry, nearly opposite him. She stood beside Ohbi, watching Bill. A moment later, she glanced to the pile of cushions where John had been sleeping. Seeing him awake, she waved and held up a small bundle of what looked like bread and began working her way around the edge of the crowded tent towards him.
John caught glimpses of her between the raised arms and turning bodies of the dancers. For a second, she dropped into a deep shadow and then emerged again, her pale hair gleaming in the lamplight. She wasn’t far from him when, suddenly, a dark form seemed to melt out of the silhouettes of the dancers and jerk her back into the darkness. At first, John mistook it for a play of the flickering light.
But Laurie didn’t reappear.
A sudden fear seized John. He rushed forward, brushing dancers and onlookers aside, hardly taking note of them as he raced along the edge of the tent.
He could feel some strange power, radiating from within the curtain-like folds of the tent wall. It shimmered through the darkness like heat waves dancing across a desert horizon. It drew him.
John tore back one of the deep folds of the tent to discover Rasho Tashtu holding Laurie from behind in a tight grip. One of his thick arms crushed across her throat, while his other hand groped at her breast.
“If you don’t let me go,” Laurie hissed, “I swear I’ll kill you.”
John knew she could and would. He could feel the fury and power emanating from her in waves.
“You need a little training.” Tashtu’s words were slurred. “A real man—”
John didn’t let him get any further. He caught hold of Tashtu’s hands and ripped them off of Laurie. She immediately bolted free.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Tashtu roared. The alcoholic flush in his face looked almost black in the shadows of the tent.
“Release me, peasant!” Tashtu snarled. “I’ll have your head for this.”
He attempted to jerk free but John held him, grinding his thumbs into the
Similar Books
