The Gold in the Dark

Chapter Seventeen

Tia's eyes glazed over for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour. Normally she loved Mistress Laserie's class, but today every second crawled along. The so-called pulse-stroke slow dances of the Falsig Islands did not live up to the sensual promise of their name, and taking a glance around the room, she could tell the rest of the class was just as unenthralled as she was.

Still, it was unfair to pin the reason for her distraction wholly on the dull dances of Hygot's southwestern islands. No, the real reason for her unshakeable malaise lay in what she intended to do sometime during the next class. Yet before she could run through all her hopes, worries, and doubts again, Mistress Laserie's voice rose above all the bored whispers.

"My dears," she cried, stamping her cane on the floor with unexpected force, "it's clear many of you are having a difficult time connecting with the intended spirit of the pulse-stroke dances." Behind her, Tia heard Simas whisper something about how if it were all up to him, the intended spirit of the pulse-stroke dance would be altogether different. His remark earned stifled guffaws from the other boys, and Wynna turned and gave them all a pointed glare. Mistress Laserie kept speaking as if she hadn't heard. Well, perhaps she really hadn't. After all, the dance mistress was rather elderly.

"You young people are so often drawn to dances with daring leaps and impossible turns. Yet impressive though these physical feats are, sometimes the most astonishing beauty of all can be found in simplicity. So I bid you all an early 'goodbye' today. Yes," she assured them, as everyone's attention snapped back at the prospect of an early dismissal. "Yes, my dears, you heard me correct. Take the rest of our class period to enjoy the splendid weather and walk in the garden. With winter nearly upon us, it behooves us to enjoy the day and not stay cooped up indoors, dancing or no. Your assignment is this: consider the clean lines of the trees and bushes, naked without their leaves, and see if you can't find some beauty there." She stamped her cane on the floor again, and they fled, happy for the unexpected reprieve.

It really was a glorious fall day—perhaps the last hurrah of autumn before Chyor's icy breath arrived to wreath the city in frost and icicles. Tia, Wynna, and Alindy strolled together through the garden, crimson leaves crunching underfoot. Glancing around the grounds, Tia observed that most of their classmates were conspicuously absent. Either they'd all discovered some hidden nook of the gardens or they hadn't taken Mistress Laserie's words to heart.

Wynna stopped before a bare bush. Her lips pursed as she considered the plant for several long seconds. "I mean... it has very healthy-looking bark," she said, her voice a tinge doubtful.

Alindy turned this way and that, as if viewing a fine work of art. Finally she shook her head and heaved a dramatic sigh. "I don't think any amount of staring at bushes is going to make me think the people of the Falsig Islands have good taste in dance." She turned to Tia and spoke in an affected, sonorous voice. "And what are your thoughts on the piece, Miss Inkman?"

Tia stared at the bush. "It looks... umm... I think I'd prefer it with leaves. Anyway, how much time do you suppose we have before third hour?" Walking in the garden had been a nice distraction, but now all her plans for next class came rushing back.

"I have no idea," Wynna said as they resumed their course through the garden, then threw out her hand suddenly as they came to a fork in the path. The girl's eyes shone bright as she looked down the leftward path, and her mouth curved upward in a sly smile. She nudged Tia. "Who cares when third hour starts? I just saw him round the corner. He wasn't with anyone—ask him now!"

Tia's heart turned over. She'd planned to take Roge up on his previous offer of tutoring during partnering class. The whole speech was planned out in her head; in theory, asking him in the garden should be the same as asking him in class. Yet she had the vague sense Roge would understand the question differently if she asked him outside of class, when they didn't have to be in close proximity to one another. The brilliant red and gold leaves raining down with every wisp of wind also set a certain, undeniable mood.