Every Glistening Night

Chapter Sixteen

That night, I practically collapsed on my bed after dinner. I didn't even realize I'd been asleep until I stir to morning light, not hazy enough for dawn but too faint to be near the second meal. Weights seemed to anchor me to the floor, and I had to drag my limbs from under my blankets, to the other end of the room to get ready. Somehow, I went through the day more tired than any of the previous days, when I'd gotten fewer restful hours.

My energy ebbs and flows throughout the day, spiking after meals and in momentary bursts as I weave my daily quota. The sun arcs across the sky, and before I know it, it's dusk. I'm left wondering where the time went, where any of the time in the past moon cycles went. In just two moons, I must meet the hooded figure in the forest again, delivering the sunlight cloak.

The looms are packed up for the day, and tribe members line up by the cooks. I fall into place on one side. A yawn stretches my jaw. I feel a tiny bit more energy in my veins compared to this morning. Hopefully, it will be enough to power through the final assembly of the sunlight cloak tonight. Part of me wishes that I'd just finished it yesterday. The other part knows that perpetually staying up late will destroy my health. I must maintain an appearance of normality. Already, I can feel the cracks in my facade, the extra stares I've garnered since my blackmailer manifested herself.

I nearly deflate at the memory of Hannei's invitation — nearly. It swished in and out of my mind all day. Everytime I thought about tonight, how I have just a few more hours of work to get through, I'd remember my agreement to play with Hannei and Yefto. If all goes smoothly, it may only be for a short time. If not, I'll be staying up extra late.

Still, it's too big of an opportunity to pass up, despite my looming deadline.

Speaking of Hannei, her slender frame slips through the crowd, headed toward the food line. Our gazes lock, and she waves. I realize that her path isn't toward the others preparing to eat, it's toward me.

"Ready for tonight?" she says as she approaches. "Yefto and I plan to head off right after dinner."

I nod. Hannei's head bobs from side to side, taking in my empty hands.

"Haven't fetched your laivo yet," she comments with a slight chuckle. My cheeks prick with embarrassment, and I'm grateful for the waning light to hide it.

"I, uh, planned to after eating."

"That's alright," she says, her voice light, jovial. "There's plenty of time." Hannei clutches her hands together behind her back, eyes sweeping the ground. "Well, I suppose that's all. You're... free to eat with Yefto and me if you'd like."

"I'd love to." A trickle of excitement boosts my energy slightly.

"We're just over there." She points to where her husband sits with a few other tribe members. "Well, I best go to the end of the line." She walks away before the conversation gets more awkward.

Dinner is less eventful than I would've imagined it to be. Yefto and Hannei chatted with the others the entire time, while I mostly listened on the sidelines, slightly outside the circle the friends formed. I ate my entire corn cake and stew tonight, unable to slip any away for later just in case someone noticed. My stomach bulges from the extra food portion I normally forgo. I won't have to worry about feeling a twinge of hunger tonight, like I sometimes do.

The circle dwindles as people finish their meals and leave. By the time dusk coats the air, only Yefto, Hannei, and I remain. I'd long since turned in my bowl, even had time to fetch my laivo. It must be nice to have this much time during meals to relax and catch up with people. I certainly haven't had that luxury while completing the sunlight cloak.

Hannei turns to her husband. "Where should we practice?"

"Hmm." A deep rumble resounds from Yefto's throat. "Why don't we go up the mountain a bit? We don't want to spoil tomorrow night by letting the tribe hear all the songs we're going to play."

Hannei chuckles, and I smile. Together, we walk up the mountain path, past the guards watching the tribe on a night shift. We find a small clearing offshooting the narrow ledge. Tufts of grass dot what is mostly rock.

"This alcove is perfect," Hannei says. She takes a seat beside her husband, and I sit across from them.

"We were considering some traditional melodies to play throughout the night," Yefto says. "Perhaps the Rabbit's Dance or The Birds Fly High?"

"I like The Birds Fly High," Hannei says.

I nod in agreement. "It's perfect for the ciwien pipe."

"Shall we give it a try?" Hannei lifts the wooden instrument to her lips. She inhales a meandering breath, then slowly blows out a long, silvery note. The opening lasts several, drawn out breaths before I join in with a stream of ascending notes, like birds taking flight to the sky. Yefto joins in with the main melody, and together, a ballad takes shape, swirling in the air around us, enveloping us in love, loss, and hope.

The musical notes echo off the rockface, amplifying its magnetism. I tap into the music's core, scaffolding around the basic accompaniment I learned as a child to embellish it, make the song my own. My fingers become one with the music. Every sweep across the strings feels like a musical cascade is being pulled from me, not the laivo. A sense of peace settles upon me, dousing my worries and fears about my mother, the sunlight cloak, the hooded figure.

I barely realize that the song ends. It just fades into the distance, so slow that it doesn't register until only the inkling of a breeze rushes in my ears.

I glance at Hannei and Yefto. Hannei leans her head against her husband's shoulder. I almost don't want to disturb them and the peace transcending them. Fortunately, I don't have to. Hannei soon lifts her head, the movement flowing like a flower in a lazy breeze.

"That was beautiful, Celisae," she says. Her elbow nudges Yefto. "You weren't too bad, either."

"Thanks very much," Yefto laughs. "How about another one, perhaps more of a dance tune to get people moving?"

Part of me wishes to preserve the tranquility in the air, which I haven't felt in days. But I can't bring myself to dissent.

"We could play the fire jig," Hannei suggests. "Why don't you start this time, Celisae?"

"O-oh, alright," I stammer, taken aback.

I stare down at my instrument for a moment, my mind blank. All the music that'd built in my veins seems to have drained away. I can't even remember that first chord of the fire dance. Even worse, my hands have suddenly gone stiff.

Think. Hum the song in your head. The melody trickles back into my head, first a few drops I have to force out of my memory, then in lines and phrases. Taking a deep breath, I pluck the first line.

The notes are fast and light, a touch eerie. Yefto joins in with steady bass notes, four per chord, while Hannei plays a drone. The melody oscillates in and out of harmony with the ciwien pipe. I push the song forward, keep the momentum up for the imaginary dancers in my head. Exhaustion fades from my consciousness; all I feel is the musical energy.

All of the countless songs we play end too soon. Every time, it's like the bubble of happiness encasing me has burst, dropping me back into the real world. Moonlight glistens overhead by the time Hannei sets her ciwien pipe down with a yawn.

"I'm afraid I'm too tired to continue," she says. "Though I could go on all night if my internal clock wasn't a constraint."

Yefto's hand finds hers, brushing his thumb against her palm. "We'll get to play more tomorrow night." He smiles at me. "We should probably turn in to make sure we aren't too tired."

I nod, though I already know that I'll be staying up late tonight to finish the cloak. My body protests, overwhelming me with every sleep-inducing signal in my brain. I could keel over right here, spending the night with a rock for a pillow. But I force myself to remain awake, even after I say my goodbyes to Hannei and Yefto and return to my cave.