This Red Sky

Chapter One

The blistering sun retreated below the horizon, and the two moons shone yellow over the blanket of twinkling stars. For once, the packed-earth road through the village of Blackhost was filled with people and the sounds of shouts, drumming and laughter.

A fire blazed in the middle of the square. Shepherds, their charges firmly enclosed in the darkened stables nearby, beat sheepskin stretched across white-wood frames. Before the light of the bonfire, silhouettes leapt and spun, skirts flying. Firelight reflected off the maidens' russet skin, their manes of thickly curled hair, and the wooden and copper bangles that adorned their wrists and ankles. Their feet were caked with red dust, sweat beading on their brows.

But as the drums rose in volume and tempo, the attention turned to one among them. Her red-brown hair was waist length, barely restrained by a wooden clip at the end of her thick braid. She skillfully twisted, dipped and floated in the space in front of the roaring flames with ease, the corners of her mouth turned upwards.

To Sonia, it was bliss. As she finished the dance, coming to a graceful stop in the center of the clearing, she knew not to expect much by way of recognition, but she could not stop her face from breaking into a grin.

She opened her eyes. The was a smattering of applause, a look of jealously from the nearest girl, and a few disapproving mutters as the crowd began to return to their drinking and celebration. The drumbeat started again, slow and steady.

Sonia's heart sank a little in dejection. Among the girls, she was the only one not wearing a sash about her waist. Her wrists and ankles were unadorned, and one leather pendant hung from her neck. She crossed the square, worming her way through the crowd.

A massive skull, reptilian and filled with dagger-like teeth, sat at the edge of the square. A sacrificial lamb, its fleece painted with runic symbols, was tied inside its massive open maw. The rest was filled with rare flowers, yellow spiky things that would have to be burned at the end of the festivities as they were poisonous to sheep. Candles glowed in front, their wax forming puddles on the dry ground.

Sonia genuflected towards the shrine, offering the lamb a slice of carrot from the pouch at her waist. From the same pouch she drew another candle, and lighting it from the largest one in the center, added it to those already in place.

She turned, seeing an old, stout woman, her grey hair thinning on top and a gnarled hand resting on a staff, sitting on a throne-like chair made of the same dead white wood that was everywhere. A shepherd and his wife were kneeling before her, the woman's stomach swollen with child. Elna leaned forward, tapping it with her staff nine times, and Sonia could hear her murmur a prayer in an ancient language.

She hurried to translate the words in her mind, finding herself able to make out most of them, the words going by too fast for her to keep up. A deep sense of guilt dropped into her stomach. As the couple stood and melted back into the crowd, Sonia walked over, a little too fast, and knelt before the priestess in their place.

"How did it go?" Elna asked, a little sternly. Sonia felt her cheeks redden. How often had her mind wandered from studying to dancing?

"Fine," she tried to make her voice sound satisfied. Elna looked down at her, her beak-like nose a little wrinkled, and then took Sonia's hand. "I don't think they liked it," Sonia said finally. "I don't think they want me there."

Her voice was dejected, resigned. Elna inhaled slowly.

"I promised your mother that I would bring you up as any other maid. That, as much as it takes you away from your studies," the priestess's voice was a little grudging, but her face was sincere. "Includes having you learn to dance."