The Mountain Dancer

Chapter 1: Blue Cloak & Grey Cloak

Two figures stood together at the top of a rise that overlooked the enormous stone bridge. Traffic thrummed along in both directions. Mists from the river far below glowed pale pink in the light of the rising sun.

“There was a time,” said the lady in the blue cloak, “when at first light, the only sound would have been the rush of the water.”

The man in the grey cloak grunted in reply. His gaze didn’t falter, she noticed. He wasn’t looking at the magnificent bridge or the river below – he was staring at the school.

Across the deep chasm, the crossing flowed into one of the largest buildings in Massus. Tomecliff Pass Academy towered many stories above the thoroughfare and was almost as wide as the bridge was long. Below, it seemed to grow naturally out of the cliff face. She could see places down low where windows and balconies had been built right into the natural shale slopes of the gorge.

The bridge turned into a road that continued on for a few kilometers further, before ending in the old mountain city of Tomecliff. But for her, the path ended here.

As if to confirm, the man jabbed a grubby finger at the building. “You’re certain it’s in there? Isn’t it too obvious? Tomecliff Pass is the biggest library in ­–”

Irritated, she reached out and forced his hand down. “Don’t point. Yes, I am certain.”

He glowered at her. “And you do not touch me, Lurecrafter.” A brief red light flickered behind his eyes.

This one, such a pathetic lack of control. “Forgive me, but I am cautious of untoward attention.”

“Untoward attention,” he spat. “You presume to lecture me about risk. If I didn’t know how to handle risk do you think I would have agreed to any of this in the first place? Do you?”

She met his gaze and wondered how he’d react to being flung into the river. The fall would certainly be long enough for one to contemplate one’s fleeting mortality. Unless he struck the rock face before the water. She began to puzzle out the necessary arc required so a man of his heft would successfully clear the sloping cliff. He was still staring at her.

“Well?!” Little flecks of spittle decorated her cheeks.

She let the silence draw out until it looked like he was about to bark again, and said, “it won’t be easy to undo the Artwork that protects your book. I will need time. Probably more than we discussed.”

He blinked. Instead of the outburst she expected, he asked, “how much time?”

“The security they’ve installed is intricate, and sensitive,” she lied. On impulse, she added, “it’s woven right into the fabric of the pupils’ mindtether.”

“The pupils are a part of it?”

She congratulated herself on that little bit of improvising, and began to milk it. “Yes, but they’re not aware of it. It’s quite genius really – I’m going to have tread very carefully in order to get the necessary blinds in place without raising suspicion. The children will be the first to notice if their mindtethering or shardtrades are disrupted.”

He seemed to consider it.

“The book is very valuable,” she prompted.

He nodded slowly and looked back across at the academy, and she risked a thin probe – just because she could. Distracted, he never picked up on the intrusion. A quick burst of alien sensation and thought flooded her: anxiety, fear, a distended bladder, the hint of a cautiously indulged fantasy... and unexpectedly, a concern regarding honour. The new feelings drained away as fast as they rushed in.

When he looked back at her, some of the ferocity had left his eyes and she allowed herself to feel a notch of sympathy. Just a notch.

“Very valuable,” he said. “How much time will it take?”

“I need until the night of the Mountain Dance.”

He sucked in his breath. She spoke before he could object. “I know that’s almost four months away, but ­–”

“And a full month longer than we had discussed,” he said.

“Yes. But with the pupils involved now, I –”

“Need more time,” he said, “fine. Fine. You understand the risk I am taking, don’t you?”

“I do,” she said solemnly. If only you understood mine.

He seemed appeased. “Then let’s get this underway. We proceed as planned, and I’ll work out how to extend our timeline.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He turned to leave. “I’ve got to piss.”

She responded by turning her gaze back to the big stone academy. There were a few figures moving up along the battlements now. Early birds.

He grunted and started back down the slope, leaving her to her contemplation. She heard him crunching away, then he called back. “Lurecrafter?”

His voice was gruff as usual, but she didn’t need to probe to detect the tinge of apprehension in it. She angled her head slightly in acknowledgement, still gazing out across the cliffs.

“There will – how much rendering will there be?”

Coward. “As little as possible.”

“But some?”

“As little as possible.”

Silence. Then more crunching as he finished his exit. A brisk gust began to rise out of the chasm. She took a long breath of fresh morning air and looked upon the rising sun. It had been a long time since it had been capable of burning her eyes.