Strands of Starlight by Gael Baudino

Author:Gael Baudino [Baudino, Gael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Signet Trademark
Published: 2011-10-09T14:45:39+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

She was not an Elf, but they welcomed her, and she did not hear thoughts of if only from them. The past could not be changed, the future was one of infinite possibilities, and the present was now. That was all that mattered.

And so she was not overly conscious of the passage of days. The moon waxed and waned, the sun rose each day, but that was all. Of weeks, or months, or feast days—mere conveniences of a human-created calendar—she knew nothing. Today was simply today.

And today contained the winter forest, and the sky, and the certain knowledge of the Dance that went on around her. With Terrill she wandered through the trees, and together they looked in on hibernating bears and broke the ice of the river for thirsty foxes. One day she found a lamed rabbit, and without thinking, she healed it, the power flowing effortlessly.

It was pleasure. It was very good. And as the days went on, cold and white, the cave warm and filled with firelight and with the presence of the Elves, Miriam allowed herself a luxury that had been denied her for many years: time to forget, time to give up struggles, time to lay aside burdens—for a little while.

Roxanne nursed her baby. Natil played her harp. Talla danced in intricate variations that complemented the shimmering arpeggios of Natil's music, variations that she recognized as being akin to the movements she herself knew.

And when, on an evening in that prolonged present into which she had entered, Talla took her by the hand and led her through the subtle twinings of a dance, Miriam moved with an instinctive knowledge of the steps, as though everything the Elves did—dancing, fighting, breathing, living—reflected the changing patterns around them, the patterns they called the Dance, the Dance that was the Lady.

The old, human clumsiness fell from Miriam's feet, and the shimmer about her quickened again. Talla's dance flowed into the Greater Dance, and Miriam wondered where one left off and the other began. Were her movements really altering the course of worlds? Of stars? How was it that this little healer had come to enter into the workings of the universe?

When they finished, Talla hugged her and murmured into her ear: “Ele, Miryai. Elea.”

That name again, and with the added inflection that Miriam had come to recognize as an endearment. But she looked over Talla's shoulder and saw Terrill standing by the entrance to the cave. His arms were folded, and in his eyes was such a look of grief that she was stricken. Terrill was more than her teacher. He had, in spite of his demanding methods, become her friend, and the knowledge of such sorrow in him made her want to comfort.

“Terrill,” she said, but the Elf was already gone, the flap of the door falling shut behind him.

She ran across the dry sand to the door, peered out into the winter landscape. “Terrill!” Her throat ached, as though she remembered another parting, a long

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