The Mountain Dancer

Chapter 3: Shaynike & Monarec

Three days later, and Monarec still wouldn’t give it up. This wasn’t helping with Shay’s resolve to forget that the whole roof walk encounter had even happened. The first evening had been filled with understandable and equal amounts of fantasizing and consoling. After all, it was technically the first time either of them had actually interacted with the enchanting boy, let alone exchanged any words in person. The second evening had given way to less consoling, more fantasizing, and a tinge of “next steps,” which Shay did not like the sound of.

Now, on the third evening, it was worryingly clear that Mona intended for Shay to “pursue the relationship” and actually make some sort of attempt to follow up with Rekness. Mona was perched on the edge of Shay’s bed, buzzing with energy. Shay was presently facedown in her pillow, trying to mentally recite geography facts for tomorrow’s quiz. Not that she need the practice, but it was helping to distract from her friend’s ramblings.

Her squat companion was tugging at her mop of curly black hair, reiterating her theory regarding the deep mystique that Shay had probably (impossibly) instilled in Rekness’ heart.

“Think about it!” she squeaked, “he goes up there, expecting a quiet, serene bit of river watching - as you said he was saying - and there’s this mystery girl up there! She’s just there! For no reason! And she doesn’t say a word to him.”

Shay piped up, half-muffled by the pillow. “Correction. I said ‘what’ to him.”

“And she barely says a word to him! He flees, not knowing what else to do, likely intimidated by her beauty.”

Shay snorted.

“If I were him –”

“You’re not him.”

“If I were him, I wouldn’t be able to get it out of my head. Who is she? What was she doing? Why wouldn’t she tell me what she was doing? Is she always up there? I wonder if she’s fun to kiss?”

“Monarec!” Shay shouted. She rolled over onto her back, reached behind her head, clutched her pillow and whipped it at her friend. Eyes wide, Monarec whacked it away with an upward swipe of her arm, hard enough for it to thwap against the ceiling. Her sudden agility and strength caught them both by surprise, and they dissolved into laughter.

After the giggles ceased, Shay sat up and attempted to use the temporary gap in Monarec’s babbling to try and talk some sense into her.

“Rekness Locktree is most certainly not obsessing over the little dormouse he accidentally squashed on top of the wall,” she said. “He is in advanced training for his scholarright. His mind will be on his Artwork, and if not his Artwork, then probably on his demonstrations for the Mountain Dance.”

She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Talking sense into Mona was a two-steps forward, one-step back process at best. And when it came to the topic of the Mountain Dance, sensibility and prudence all but evaporated.

Monarec did not disappoint. Her face lit up in sudden revelation. “Of course! You need to take him to the Mountain Dance!”

O Torch of Royth, guide me, Shay pleaded silently.

“It’s perfect! It’s perfect! You’re going to be the Crown Academic this year and he is going to be the Crown Artyss – the last time the two went coupled was, like, oh boy like a fifteen years ago. That was when Efftrek Galecrust and Meeshush Tanglemire were also the Head Caterer and...”

Shay’s eyes glazed over. The history lesson would go on for some time. Mona was truly and utterly obsessed with the annual Mountain Dance. She knew specific backstories, couplings, outcomes, council memberships and more for at least the past fifty dances. However, given the attention this part of world gave to the stupid event, it wasn’t that strange of a passion.

Tomecliff Pass was regarded as one of the finest Artwork Academies in all of Heirbrosse, and was unquestioningly the top school in Massus. As such, the Mountain Dance was much less of a celebration of graduation and the beginning of the scholarright path than it was a recruiting party for the various aspectral Sects and subsects. It was also an entertainment spectacle, probably the most lavish that the Massese culture publicly tolerated. The demonstrations and signals performed by the Crown Pupils were always highly scrutinized and speculated upon. The Dance’s great feast inspired cooking trends across the land, and the wonderments and musical appointments drew critics from as far away as Brosse Island.

Obviously (horrifyingly) the whole thing was broadcast on all the major mindtethers. And the cruddy affair was not even four months away. One hundred and fourteen days, precisely, Shay thought, biting her lip.

The idea of all the hobnobbing, fussing, and attention almost made her want to drop out of the running for Crown Academic. She knew it was usually the least celebrated of the four Crown Pupils, but if she were so named, she would still have to show up. She would probably have to say something to everyone. She would surely have to talk to people in general.

And she would definitely need to find a date.

To show up to the Mountain Dance uncoupled was a slight enough to tradition, to do so as one of the Crown Pupils? Shay shuddered.

Mona was still talking.

If the chatterbox had of been the same age, it would have solved everything – she could just couple up with her and let the little Mountain Dance-ologist guide her through the whole nightmare. But no, Mona was a full year younger, a full grade back. This time next year, Shay would be out in the world, chasing down her scholarright.

Shay tuned back in to Mona’s ramblings. She was waiting for a moment to break in and try to steer the conversation elsewhere when the taste of bitter chocolate exploded onto her tongue. Mona abruptly stopped talking and smacked her lips as her eyes flickered green.

A public broadshard was being sent down. An urgent one, given the intensity of the taste. The girls both stilled and let their eyes fall to half-lid. Dull green light filtered out through their corneas as thoughts and feelings washed into them. The voice of the town’s Head of Security burst forth.

‘To all townsfolk, advisors, tutors and pupils of Tomecliff Pass and surrounding area, please be advised – an unauthorized and hazardous rendering has taken place near the northern drainworks complex. Remain calm and clear Zone 4 for investigation. Wonderments for this evening have been cancelled. Please report any suspicious activity immediately. To all townsfolk, advisors, ...’

The message was on echo, and no feelings beyond a stalwart calm were offered along with the broadshard. When Shay cut it off and returned fully to herself, she found Mona with both her hands clasped over her mouth. Now there’s an uncommon sight.

“What?” Shay asked aloud.

“A rendering? Hazardous?”

Shay shrugged. “It’s not that rare. The drainworks are old, probably something broke.”

“When’s the last time it happened?”

Shay had to think. “I guess it would have been the year before you got here. A drive in one of the transports failed and it smashed into some others. Bridge crossing had to stop for half the day.”

“Did anyone die?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“But why would they clear the zone?” Mona asked. “Why would they cancel the wonderments? Did they do that when the transport failed?”

It was a good point, and Shay didn’t have a sound answer. “Precautions?” she ventured.

“Precautions? From what?” Mona was enraptured. Shay could sense that this evening’s conversation would be shifting from the topics of cute guys and dances to murders, mass renderings and dastardly plots.

All in all, it would be a welcome change.