1. The Warrior-Dancers

The Unfinished Song: Initiate
(This is the Beginning of the Novel)

by Toni Cogdell

Dindi

Dindi scanned the crowd, hoping to slip into the plaza un-noticed. Barter Hill swarmed with people because aunties from the three clans met here to trade every half-moon. A kraal at the bottom of the hill held aurochsen and horses. Interconnected rectangular adobe buildings created a square around the top of the rise. The old uncles, to suit their dignity, leaned against the wall on a log bench, under the shade of the eaves of the buildings, drinking corn beer, chatting amiably. They hid their thighs with waist blankets and caped themselves in shoulder blankets that reached the ground. Dindi slithered by them.

Unfortunately, the first person Dindi locked eyes with was Great Aunt Sullana. Though the whole plaza separated them, Great Aunt Sullana tore across the market like a tornado on the Purple Plains. She would demand to examine Dindi’s basket, and finding nothing in it except a kitten, pinch her cheek until Dindi stuttered some explanation. The natural and obvious defense would be to lie, but frankly, Dindi had always been a terrible liar. Her whole face ripened like a tomato, her eyes slid this way and that, she couldn’t convince a child honey was sweet never mind fool Great Aunt Sullana, who ate secrets for morning meal.

Evasion her only option, Dindi darted past a couple of elder women haggling over an exchange of vegetables for pottery. Married women, with their salt-and-pepper hair coiled in stacked rings atop their heads, sat with their wares on blankets arranged all around the dancing platform. Dindi wove a path around multifarious piles of tubers and bone awls, behind bunches of water gourds hung like grapes over racks of smoked venison. Aunties shouted and tried to call her attention to bargains by slapping her calves with horse-hair whisks.

Great Aunt Sullana changed course to track her. Dindi hopped behind a group of bare-chested warriors who mock-fought one another, to the annoyance of an auntie whose tower of baskets they upset. A gaggle of girls giggled at their antics. Great Aunt Sullana kept walking in the wrong direction. Dindi sighed in relief.

A slow drumbeat reverberated throughout the market square. The Tavaedies! No one could see the drum, but each beat shook the ground like earth tremors. Heads jerked up and eyes began to sparkle. Rattles and flutes supplemented the drumbeat. From a hole in the ground in a clear space just in front of the dancing platform, a line of masked dancers emerged. Each costume was slightly different, determined by the dancer’s color of magic and the dance the troop performed that day. A large headdress and a matching mask of either cloth or paint disguised each face. Each Tavaedi wore a costume entirely dyed and painted in shades of one of the primordial six colors.

Dindi had never told anyone she aspired to become a Tavaedi. She wasn’t interested in reaping snickers or commiseration. Besides, what did she care what the others thought of her? She knew...


TO BE CONTINUED

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Author's Comments

The dancing societies of Faearth are inspired by shamanistic dancing societies found in a number of different societies. I lived for a year in Cameroon, West Africa, (first in Batie then in Bamenda, for those handful of you who know Cameroon), and had the opportunity to watch the dancing of a group of shamans from a secret societies. It was fantastic. They wore costumes made in the traditional way, for the purposes of the sacred ritual. It looked a lot like this:

The Hopi and Zuni also had dancing societies who practiced and performed in underground rooms called kivas -- which you'll find in Faearth as well. And here's a video of Aztec dancers, just because they are pretty awesome.

You can find more of Toni Cogdell's amazing work at faeryclan.co.uk and at toni-art.co.uk. She also writes and draws for faezine.com.

93. Vessia's Dance

The Unfinished Song: Initiate

(Start at the Beginning of the Novel)

"Ivy Goddess" by Meredith Dillman

Vessia


This time Vio chuckled. He elbowed his brother. “So much for your charm with women, Vumo.”

“I can win her over, just give me time,” said Vumo. After some thought, he added, “And beer.”

The three men laughed. Vio’s eyes never left her though. He looked as though he wanted to devour her.

“You are a Tavaedi?” he asked. “I dance.”

“Imorvae, I suppose. Many-banded.”

“I dance what I dance.”

“Dance, then.” Vio folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. Challenging her. “Let us see what’s so irresistible.”

Hertio clapped his hands and women who ducked their heads hurried to clear away the uneaten feast. No one spoke of moving to a dancing platform, nor did it occur to Vessia to ask. She began to dance. And all around her, the stones burst into light, and into song.




Dindi

Caught up in the Vision, Dindi still retained enough of herself to recognize the unearthly music that haunted the Corn Maiden’s dance. The tune tormented her, it was so familiar. Where, where, where have I heard it before? She strained to hear, but there were no words.

Then she remembered.

The Corn Maiden was dancing the tama of the Unfinished Song.

It was the simplest of dances. Bare feet on the grass, skipping in a circle, arms raised in joy. So stark, so beautiful. No wonder Mad Maba had thought she could do this tama, if she could do no other. Anyone, anyone at all, could dance this tama.

I can dance it! I can learn it from watching her. If I only I can remember it. If only I can hold on and never let it go. But the Vision went on, and she had no way to awaken from the

past.




Vessia

Vessia danced now as she always had, and as always, it seemed a mere wink of time. Yet hours passed. The moon-cast shadows of the stones crossed over her while she whirled. Then the sun-cast shadows from sunrise crossed her the other way. When the shadows of the moon and sun, filtered by the position of the stones, both touched her, she stilled. Time blinked, awakened.

Vio stretched and rubbed his eyes. He shook himself. “By the Seven Faeries! It’s dawn! We were watching you all night.”

She looked at him. “You aren’t even sweating,” he marveled. “What are you?” “I must have her,” said Vumo. “At any price. I must have her!” “You must have her?” Vio asked coldly. “You forget yourself, little brother. We serve the Bone Whistler. But I agree with the basic idea.” He bowed to Hertio, who was also rubbing his eyes. “We will take your bargain, War Chief of Yellow Bear. We will take the Corn Maiden.”

“Then you must take me as well,” said Danumoro, rising to his feet.

“Don’t be a fool, Danu,” said Hertio. “It was out of friendship for you that I did this.”

“Then you never understood what it meant to be a friend,” said Danumoro.                 

TO BE CONTINUED

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Author's Comments
Meredith Dillman is a fantastic artist, and you can order prints of her paintings, as well as calendars, pins, keychains and even phone and computer decals. Um, how cool is that?!  Check out her site: http://www.meredithdillman.com/

90. Surrender

The Unfinished Song: Initiate

(Start at the Beginning of the Novel)

"I refuse to surrender" by marlene-d

Dindi


…until another handful of Initiates fell under its glow. A few of them were still conscious and they blinked in surprise.

If she pushed too far, too hard, would she ruin what she’d already achieved? She feared to ask for too much. On the other hand, what if the alternative meant that the Initiates left out of the trance per- ished because time passed for them, breath by breath, until they ran out of air?

Further! Share with us all!

The Vision exploded.


















Vessia

Vessia trailed the delegation from the Tor of the Sun. The agree- ment was that both sides would send a delegation to the Tor of the Stone Hedge, the megalith circle upon an artificial hill. They never noticed her, not even the War Chief Hertio, or her friend Danumoro, or any of the Tavaedies or warriors, because she kept to the shadows and backs of things. Stones thicker and taller than grown men stood like sentinels in three circles, one with in another, on the hill. The huge basalt rocks provided perfect cover.

Inside the innermost circle of stones, two half moon arcs of hide rugs had been set out. Each side stood facing one another, with the food piled in baskets on mats in between. Only Tavaedies and Zavaedies were present, and all wore full regalia. It had been the argument between Danu and the War Chief Hertio of the Yellow Bear tribehold, over what Hertio should wear, which had first alerted Vessia to this secret meeting. Danu had pressed him not to openly flaunt Yellow Bear’s wealth, but Hertio had scoffed, “I won’t go dressed like a beggar.”

Hertio’s costume jangled with so many disks of beaten gold that his shuffle to the center of the circle sounded like a flock of wood- peckers. The enemy wore a musk-scented robe of winter fox tails and his mask featured a wooden foot stepping on a bleached human skull. With their masks, the two leaders looked like eight-foot giants confronting each other. Vessia wondered if they would fight.

The man in gold bent to his knees in front of the man in white. A tangible groan swelled from the Yellow Bear onlookers, not so much heard as felt, like a subtle earth quake, a shared tremor of shame. Lower still bent the man in gold, until his mask sank into the grass. The man in white lifted a foxfur boot and stepped on Hertio’s neck.

The man in white removed his foot-on-skull mask. “I spare your life and your tribehold in the name of my master, the Bone Whistler.”

A jolt of recognition hit her when she saw the enemy leader. It was the handsome prisoner—Vio the Skull Stomper.

Hertio left his mask face first in the grass when he stood. Unlike Vio, who only looked haughtier with his face showing, Hertio had shrunk. The bulky gold costume now looked ridiculous with his tiny head sticking out from the wide shoulder spikes. He…

TO BE CONTINUED

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89. Tomb

The Unfinished Song: Initiate

(Start at the Beginning of the Novel)

Kavio


“…and the very children we fought to protect will die because of it.”

“But we won.”

“Even so.” She met his eyes with such hollow despair that he recoiled. “The kiva beneath this tor is no ordinary chamber. It was crafted by the fae, and can only be opened by magic. But we cannot dance it open until the entire hill has been cleansed of blood. By then, the children will have died from lack of air.”

Kavio, remembering his own Initiation well enough, understood. Initiation made children taste their mortality. Now, however, mock tomb would turn true tomb.

Brena collapsed to her knees, hopeless past weeping.

"Premonition" by concon56

Chapter 7 

Test

Dindi


Each breath hurt. Voices from the darkness had been complaining about feelings of suffocation since the stone had been rolled over the exit, but now it was no figment of a nervous imagi- nation. The air smelled rank. Dindi had thought thirst would kill them before hunger, but it seemed asphyxiation would beat out both. No one could deny it now: they had been abandoned to die. Quiet weeping echoed from somewhere. No one hushed or chided the weeper.

What had happened to the Tavaedies? Did they lie dead in heaps from war or plague, or had they chosen to sacrifice the children to the Deathsworn for some dark purpose? All the theories had been advanced, hashed and rehashed, debated, refuted and revised. They still knew nothing, except that they were going to die.

“Dindi, I don’t feel well,” Gwenika said. She sounded awful.

“You have to hold on.”

 “I don’t think I can.” Even more breathily, “I’m not sure I want to. I’m so tired of fighting. I just want to let go.”

She sounded peaceful, which drove Dindi to panic. She shook Gwenika. “No! You can’t rest! If you sleep, you’ll never wake up!”

“If only we could hibernate like bears...” she trailed off.

“Gwenika? Gwenika!” No answer. Gwenika felt like a limp weight in Dindi’s arms. Her body was still warm.

Dindi felt too tired to cry. The same lassitude that had stolen Gwenika away crept over her like a thief.

Hibernation reminded Dindi of something. A trance. She closed her hand around the corncob doll tied to the ribbon about her neck. Every time I go into the Visions of the corn cobdoll, time seems to slip by in a funny way. But wait—that will only help me. What about Gwenika? Is there anyway I can extend the trance of the corncob doll to her?

Dindi wasn’t sure, but she knew they would all die if she did nothing. Share, she wished to the doll. Share with us all.

The Vision world appeared, as though superimposed upon the real world. Dindi could see both, yet it felt as though she didn’t fully sit inside either. The Vision world extended as far as Gwenika.

Further. She tried to push it with her mind. Whether because of her silent command or some other cause, the Vision world billowed…

TO BE CONTINUED

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88. Kavio Vs. Rthan

The Unfinished Song: Initiate
(Start at the Beginning of the Novel)

"Single beam" by Paulo Cammeli

Kavio

…cut free a handsome, naked woman bound to a stone, when he chanced to recognize her. He missed a step. Though they’d not been formally introduced, he knew she was the Zavaedi who had told Dindi he was an exile and not to be trusted. Zavaedi Brena, he had heard her called.

Apparently her opinion of him had not improved. Her eyes widened when she saw him, then narrowed in outrage.

“Traitor!” she cried. “Exile! Were you working to lead our enemies here all along?”

The absurd accusation helped clear his head. He lifted his ax, ignored her wince – did she really think he intended her harm? – and cut the cords binding her wrists.

Brena fell into the churned up grass. She looked more confused than grateful. Yet she must have re-evaluated which side he was on, for just as Kavio bent to help her up, she pointed behind him. “Watch out!”

He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the blow from a huge warrior.

Rthan.

Not bothering to bandy words, Kavio aimed a kick for the man’s jugular. Belying his bulk, Rthan moved swiftly, without wasted movement. He grappled Kavio by the ankle, twisting his face into the mud. Kavio performed a bouncing push-up and donkey kick that sent Rthan reeling, but he recovered with a back roll, and came back up punching the air where Kavio would have been if he hadn’t spun away. Then the fight picked up pace.

Hot, hard, and fast, blow after blow, spin and kick they exchanged, neither able to smack the other down for long before he rebounded for more action. By now they were the last two still fighting. The rest of the Blue Waters warriors were either face down in the mud, prisoners, or face up in their blood, corpses. A circle of Yellow Bear warriors surrounded the two combatants. Rthan noticed his predicament, but instead of surrendering to the inevitable, he hunkered down into the fight, faster and harder and meaner than ever. Kavio gestured to the rest to leave him his kill, which they respected.

The tiniest bit of ill luck decided the outcome for Rthan when his ankle caught on a disconnected arm. On a roll, Kavio picked up a fallen spear and dove toward that massive chest in the final, mortal blow. Seeing his doom, Rthan spread his arms and roared a welcome to Lady Death.

From behind, a wooden mask clubbed the Blue Waters warrior on the head, dropping him like an axed tree. The spear whizzed harmlessly overhead. Rthan was already unconscious in the mud.

Zavaedi Brena held the mask. Kavio glanced at her curiously. “I think you saved his life.”

“Did I?” she asked coolly.

“Though I suspect he would have preferred death in combat to the slavery and torture that surely await him.”

“Enough blood has been spilled,” she said in disgust. She threw down the mask. Grime streaked her cheeks like tears. “This sacred place has been defiled…

TO BE CONTINUED

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Author's Comments

The art is by Paulo Cammeli. You might remember his work from an earlier post.