by Paul Kidd
Zhukora warmed the older woman with the power of her eyes.
“Yes, so now you see! There’s no reason to be glum.” She leaned closer, drawing Traveesha beneath a veil of intimacy. “As to our mutual problem… Shadarii has pushed our pity much too far. She is stubborn, willful and unlikely to cooperate with other girls within a dance.” She gripped Traveesha’s hands. “Perhaps you can do us all a great service. Give Shadarii a Past-holding task of no account; perhaps the preservation of something special - something old and forgotten? Something she will never be called on to perform. Shadarii is kept occupied, your dance class is at peace… Nobody loses, and everybody gains!”
Traveesha saw the simple beauty of it; inspiration stuck home like a lance.
“Yes, of course! She may learn knife dancing! Why no one’s performed a knife dance in living memory!”
“A knife dance?” Zhukora’s predatory ears pricked high. “Yes, that sounds most interesting.”
“Yes! A brutal, vulgar dance performed with dao. Hero spirits wield such weapons when they enter into battle! Dao - ugh! I shudder just to think of it.”
“I trust the dance is safe? I should not want to think of my beloved sister being in any danger…?”
“Safe! Ha! She’ll never get to demonstrate the art! Illegal - forbidden! No one may demonstrate the battle tales. Yes, knife dancing it is!” The dancing mistress eagerly dusted off her hands. “I hope that this has sorted out your problems?”
Zhukora bowed, her wings sweeping out to hide her face.
“Why yes indeed, wise mistress. I am forever thankful for your wits.”
Hours later, Zhukora fluttered up outside her family’s lodge. It had been a most satisfying evening. She swept aside the curtain and was puzzled to find the lamps still alight. Zhukora stalked into the lodge with a frown scored across her haughty brow.
“Aaaaah my precious beauty! Come in, my treasure! Come in and hear the joyous news we have for you!”
Her father’s voice bubbled brightly through the air. Zhukora smoothed her face into its accustomed mask, flicked her streaming hair across her shoulders and advanced into the light.
Her ears suddenly went flat in rage; Prakucha beamed up at her with a malicious smile. Nochorku-Zha had invited vermin into their home! Here - and on her mother’s rug! Zhukora somehow managed to jerk her gaze down to the floor, then knelt and bowed in obiesance to the high chief of the Swallow-Tails.
“Father. Prakucha.” The last word was spoken with a spit of venom. “Pray forgive my tardiness. Had I realised we were expecting guests, I would have remained here to serve you.”
“No matter, no matter! Your sister - the fat one - she saw well to our needs before I chased her off to bed.” The old man waved his hands. “Come! Come closer! Come and share the marvelous news we have for you.”
Her own father poured Zhukora a brimming cup of tea. Zhukora pursed her lips in puzzlement.
What on earth was going on?
She felt revulsion slither up her hide as Prakucha watched her hungrily, his eyes drinking in her every curve and swell. He stared at the slim lines of Zhukora’s rear, and his smirk made Zhukora crawl with nausea.
Nochorku-Zha reached out to take his daughter by the hands. Zhukora blinked in shock; he had never touched her with affection in all his life. What was the old spider up to now?
“Aaah Zhukora! Fairest of my little brood. It is always such a pleasure to see my young ones come of age. Sometimes the years just seem to slip us bye…” He shook his head and eyed her fondly. “We have been unfair to you, my daughter. You have had to be a mother before you could even be a bride. Well no more! Finally I shall give you what I know you crave so dearly. I have just arranged for your marriage to Prakucha!”
It was like being hacked down with an axe. Zhukora sat back, her disbelief still frozen on her face.
“What?”
Had she heard right? Zhukora blinked and tried to make sense out of her fathers words.
Nochorku-Zha slapped his thighs and boisterously nudged the groom-to-be.
“Ha ha! I told you she’d be overwhelmed! Do you see the joy upon her face? Do you feel the thrill of romance in the air?”
Indeed, Zhukora remained utterly speechless. She swayed, almost falling in a feint. Her father wiped a tear from his eye.
“The waiting time is over, Zhukora. At last you may give yourself to eggs and children, and discover the joys of love that you have left untouched for oh so long.”
The groom chuckled evilly and gave the girl a sickly smile.
“Zhukora! My dearest love, come and embrace me! We have so much to talk about, so many plans to lay…”
He reached out cup her face. Zhukora snarled and struck. Prakucha rolled with the blow then dabbed gently at his bleeding lips, smiling in anticipation.
“Yes my dear, an exciting wedding night to plan for. We shall be joined at last…”
Nochorku-Zha gaped at his daughter, aghast at her behaviour.
“Daughter! Have you gone mad?”
Zhukora’s fangs flashed.
“Father! Get this vile creature from my sight! Out! Get out of my lodge!”
“What? Don’t be mad, girl! He’s the finest catch in all the clan. We gain status, security…”
“While he gains the chieftainship! You old fool, can’t you see you’re being used?”
“Zhukora!”
The girl bore the old man down with sudden hate.
“How dare you! How dare you try to sell me off to this prickless poser!
“You’ll do as your ordered!”
Zhukora threw back her head and laughed.
“I run this family, old man! I, not you! I’ll marry whom I please and when I please, and this pleases me not at all!”
Her father gaped.
“How dare you speak to me…”
“Silence you old fool!”
Zhukora leapt up to her feet, snatched her dao from its sheath and loomed above Prakucha.
“You cringing bastard! You can’t beat me at the hunt! You can’t beat me at the game! Is this the last way your sick mind can think to best me? Never! I’ll choke myself with maggots before I let a beast like you lay hands on me!”
She slashed out with her blade, gouging woodchips from the lodgeposts. With a scream of fury Zhukora raged from the room, spread her wings and launched out into the dark. Nochorku-Zha hurtled himself to the door.
“You’ll marry him! As I live and breath, I’ll make you marry him! Zhukora, do you hear…?”
The huntress clenched her fangs and tore wildly through the air. Old bastard - he’d pay for this! Zhukora felt the hatred washing through her like a thrill of lust. Her mind whirled with rage, blood searing though her veins.
The demon of the cave would know what to do. Zhukora snarled and sped into the night.
Notes:
1) According to alpine legend, when First Mother became caretaker of the forest world, she took twelve advisors to be her counselors - a bird, an orchid, a fern, a tortoise, a cassowary, a platypus, a wallaby, etc. The tradition of the twelve-part council has remained, but formal titles such as “Brother Platypus” and “Sister Fern” are now considered inconsistent with a noble’s dignity.
Chapter Six
Far from Shadarii’s village, a brown and kindly creek meandered through the forest’s hush. Noonday sun streamed through the trees as Mistress Traveesha led Shadarii by the stream.
“Now Shadarii, we have thought long and hard about your talents, and we’ve come up with a fascinating suggestion. You do like researching ancient knowledge, am I right?”
Shadarii nodded, her eyes sparkling bright with curiosity, and Traveesha inclined her antennae in satisfaction.
“Good! Very good! I see we have not made a mistake. We are counting on you to help revive an almost vanished art!”
The Dancing Mistress led the way beneath a screen of weeping willow trees, sending grasshoppers fleeing from her path.
�
��Now Shadarii, pay attention! You must be responsible for your own research. This is a special project of your own. The caves beneath the river gorge hold paintings of the dances you must recreate. As far as I know, there is but one other dancer specialising in this field, a nice girl from the Bird-Wing clan. You should meet and compare techniques at the Totenïha ceremonies.”
Shadarii came closer as Traveesha threw back the wrappings on a mysterious bundle.
“Now these are just for practice, mind! We’ll have a presentation set made for you sometime in the future.”
Shadarii leaned forward, only to recoil in confusion as Traveesha impatiently held out a set of knives.
“Well go on girl, don’t be shy. Take them!”
Shadarii gingerly touched the pair of gleaming dao. She had never really had much time for weapons. The dao was a heavy cleaver which hovered somewhere on the border line between a knife and axe, topping a hardwood haft half a tail long with a broad blade of pounded steel. Most gardeners and hunters carried a dao upon them at all times; one could chop wood with it, split cane or carve the family roast.
Unfortunately, as far as dancing props went, dao came a poor second to dead frogs and lumps of coal. Shadarii looked unhappily up at Traveesha, but the Dancing Mistress paid no attention to the girl’s distress.
“I believe the dancing style used choreographed blows exchanged between two dancers. Your admirable skills at dance design will finally have a use!” Both knives were roughly thrust into Shadarii’s grasp, and Traveesha clapped her hands together in delight. “You see? You’re perfect for the task! Few girls have the strength to hold a blade for long - but to you? Pah, a simple task! Experiment and see what you can do!”
It seemed an important task; Shadarii tried to raise her spirits as she thought of all the trust the Traveesha-Zho had placed in her. A revival of an ancient dance, research and development; dance designs all of her very own… This would clearly be the one great chance of Shadarii’s lifetime.
She would do it somehow. A program began to form inside Shadarii’s clever mind, and the girl began to slowly move in swirling loops and pirouettes. The knives ponderously swept the air around her as she tried to grow accustomed to their weight.
Traveesha watched carefully for a moment, then turned her tail and left the clearing with a cunning smile. She never saw the stealthy figure lurking in the treetops nearbye. Javïra glared down at Shadarii, her blue eyes filled with hate. The girl watched in silence for a long, long while, finally drawing back into the shadows.
***
*Thou hast done well, my lovely warrior. Very well. I expected nothing less of thee.*
Zhukora leaned against the cave wall as she spoke to Serpent, her eyes dazzled by the visions playing through her mind
“My plans begin to form. I have moved amongst the people. When I speak, the people listen. They need me as the hand to wield their anger!” Zhukora trembled with the power of her Dream. “I must bring freedom to the alps! We will break the bondage of the councils. Why cower in a forest when there is a whole world to explore?”
The girl stared off into the dark.
“No more fear, no more hiding in the trees, no terror of mere things unknown! Ideas shall be treasured like precious jewels! The age of stasis shall die at last!”
Zhukora stared into a future built of dazzling hopes and dreams while the ancient spirit danced at her side.
*Thy path is difficult Zhukora, but The Dream shall always burn for thee. It is a lonely, glorious road thou seek’st to travel.
*Now tell me; thou hast troubles. Speak thy mind and we’ll see what wisdom we can brew.*
The glittering presence of the spirit ebbed and flowed above the hollow corpses on the cavern floor. Zhukora leaned her head upon her hand and scowled into the darkness.
“My father has just disrupted all my plans! The fool’s betrothed me. Bargained me off like a piece of meat!”
*Is it a valuable match?*
“Ha! A sniveling coward who can’t beat me in game or hunt! He needs the status of a chief’s daughter for a bride.”
*Seduce him, marry him and dominate him. A man is all too easy to control.*
“Never! I’ll die before I let that creature touch me!” The girl bared her fangs in hate. “They want to use my flesh to drag me down. Chain me to a nest of eggs like some bloated mother ant!”
*Aaaaah! It has wounded thy precious pride? Does it hurt to know they see thee only as a chattel? Feed on the hate, girl! Suck upon its strength!*
‘Serpent’ slithered like a coil of liquid night.
*It is the age-old burden of inner greatness, Zhukora. Lesser creatures will seek to pull thee down. The first great test of will shall be to triumph over thy obstacles.
*Thou art ruthless, Zhukora, but art thou cold? Can thou plan an act? Dare thou craft a death…*
Chilled, Zhukora’s ears rose.
“Death?”
*The old regime must die before thy Dream can finally come true. Had’st thou thought of it, or art thou afraid?*
“I’m not afraid. I’m not!” Zhukora’s voice rose to a shout. “I-I fear nothing. It-it simply isn’t time!”
The Ka flowed down to stir amongst the corpses on the cavern floor. They rattled softly as the creature passed.
*Do’st thou see these husks, Zhukora? This broken filth? They are the remnants of doubt, of failure and self deception. Fear it, Zhukora. These creatures died because they were too terrified to reach for greatness. They drowned in their own mediocrity.*
“What-what are you saying?”
*Why nothing; nothing and everything. Thou must make thy decisions for thyself.*
A corpse lifted up into the air, brittle bones snapping as fragments rained onto the floor. The withered jaw hung open in a silent scream of fright.
Serpent’s voice shook with strain.
*It is… hard for me to influence matter. My power is weak. To influence thy world I need a living partner; someone to channel out my powers. Senses to see and feel!* The corpse turned slow circles in the air. *Thy life task lies before thee. Thou shalt take thy clan and then thy tribe, and finally thy people. Thy race shall tremble in the dust before thee! The glory that is Zhukora shall set them free!
*The Dream, Zhukora! Feel thy Dream!*
With a sudden burst of power the floating corpse tore asunder, and the skull tumbled at Zhukora’s feet.
*Take it! I have eaten that which dwelled there. Part of me now lies within. Speak and I shall hear, call and I shall come. I am yours, Zhukora! Use me to make thy Dream come true!*
Zhukora laughed aloud. She snatched up the skull and flew out into the forest, her battle cries ringing out across the tired old trees.
***
Shadarii wandered happily through the forest, with little Kïtashii fluttering in her wake. The two companions flew in sunny silence, drifting from flower to flower like aimless butterflies.
Skinny, lanky legged and grey as a moonlit night, Kïtashii peered sidewise at her companion, her mind brimming with suspicions. Shadarii’s eyes were bright, her mood seemed gay… Kïtashii sucked her fangs and twirled her silver hair.
Shadarii landed in the grass beside a tiny purple lily. The dancer bent and breathed its warming scent, her beautiful orange wings flashing out to catch the sun. Shadarii smiled and softly beckoned her student closer. Cupping her hands about the flower, she wove a gentle ïsha haze. A tiny Ka rose forth to dance between her fingertips, twirling up to trill a little song of love. Shadarii lifted up her eyes to smile into Kïtashii’s face, and the twelve year old stared in utter rapture, spellbound by Shadarii’s skill.
“How do you do it? I’ve never seen the like!”
Shadarii made a rapid string of motions, cradling an imaginary something in her arms; Kïtashii watched and gave a snort.
“You have to love the plant? Oh Shadarii, you’ve only just met the funny thing!”
Shadarii reached down to touch the flower and smile. She pl
aced a hand against her heart and then opened out her fingers.
“You love it just the same, hmmm? Oh Shadarii, I wish I had your romantic nature.”
Shadarii shook her head, then beamed and spread her hands. Her message had an innocent simplicity.
<
Shadarii pointed to a lovely coppery dragonfly, then closed her eyes and let her ïsha flare with light. The dragonfly dipped closer, buzzing low to hover there between Shadarii’s ears.
<
The twelve-year-old eyed Shadarii with suspicion, her sharp nose wrinkling in thought.
“You seem merry, my lady! No sighs, no tears… One would think that something special has occurred?”
Shadarii gave an airy wave.
<
“Oh! So you say there is no reason for all these sudden smiles?”
Shadarii simpered and waggled her long black fingers. Aha! So there was something going on; Kïtashii pondered, wondering what it could be.
“Mistress Traveesha let me in the junior class today. I was the only commoner there. Traveesha-Zho says that I have talent, but that I have been beneath the cloud of ‘irregular influences’. I rather think that she means you…”
