The Gold in the Dark

Chapter Five

Fenlick wasn't a small town, but before she knew it they'd left the city center and were winding a meandering route through the poorer residential areas on Fenlick's outer edge. Tia didn't pay attention to any of the passing scenery or to the dance master beside her, opting instead for staring into space.

Her thoughts were warring inside.

I could ask him to turn around.

Don't be stupid. Who gets homesick ten minutes after leaving home?

But what about once I get to Haplyr?

She chewed the words in her mouth, wondering if she could conjure the nerve to demand they turn around. But some internal force stayed her tongue.

The cobblestones gave way to packed dirt, jolting the carriage. They were passing the city limits now. When was the last time she'd been this far from home? It had to be several years at least. The rolling fields of crops on either side of the trundling carriage made her feel strangely vulnerable. She was used to the close-pressed feeling of shops and inns lining the streets. Seeing the horizon was unfamiliar, uncomfortable.

The carriage interior had grown hot under the beaming noonday sun. She turned to her travel companion to ask if he'd mind if she opened the window, only to find Master Maaj napping soundly beside her. He gave a breathy yawn, mouth hanging open slightly. Surely he wouldn't mind. She undid the latch.

He roused himself with a harrumph as soon as she opened the window. "My, that breeze smells wonderful." She took a whiff; the air did smell sweet. "I notice it every time I go to Fenlick," he said. "People there might not realize it, but Fenlick air smells sour from all the industry. It does the body good to get out into the countryside every so often."

She gave a noncommittal hum.

"In fact," he continued, "I've been thinking about health a great deal lately—your health, mainly. Since we have a good span of time before arriving in Haplyr, it would be in your best interest to prepare yourself for life at the academy." His blue eyes studied her shrewdly. "In Fenlick, how much time did you have to dance each day?"

Tia looked down, embarrassed. "It... it wasn't even every day. An hour or two, if I could get away."

"Academy students take eight hours of classes each day." He saw her shocked expression and raised a finger to qualify. "Granted, some of that includes acting, stretching, and dance history, but the curriculum is intensive. It could be quite hard on you, and we must prevent injury." He steepled his fingers, thinking. "Another thing to consider is that, as I said when we first met, your dancing is fine, but unconventional—a product of your self-study."

She flushed. "What do you mean?"

"You've taken an impression of Hygotian dance and made it your own. Tell me, how many dance performances have you seen?"

"Only the Queen's Fair dance, when I was young."

"Yes, just so. Through the passage of time and the blurring of childhood memories, all viewed through an untrained eye, you've formed an impression of the most prominent aspects of that specific choreography. You've perfected your dance, Tia, but you must become accustomed to all styles—modern and classic, somber and merry, and everything in between."

Her chin wobbled. Maybe now was the time to scramble out the carriage window and head home. "I thought you said I had talent."

"You do! You just have a lot of learning to do and a few bad habits to correct." His mouth crinkled into a smile. "Be prepared—you'll find in the next few weeks that we must cover some of the very basics."