Glasswrights' Journeyman by Mindy L Klasky

Author:Mindy L Klasky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2001-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Rani watched as Mair tugged at the tunic she had borrowed from one of the young players, an itinerant entertainer who had only arrived that morning for the Spring Meet. The Touched girl looked as if she were back in the Moren of her youth, leading her troop of ragged children, exploiting the riches of a city that knew boundless wealth. Rani swallowed a bitter taste as she realized once again that the familiar Moren was lost forever.

Mair, however, was not dwelling on fire or disease or the dangerous plight of Touched children. Instead, she was boasting to the players. “I can easily handle three – it’s all in the timing of your entrance.”

To prove her point, she backed away, taking five grand steps. “Now. Start turning the ropes. Slowly.”

Two of the players held a rope between them, a measure of worsted spidersilk as thick as Rani’s thumb. They began to turn the length, and the rope slapped the ground rhythmically, setting up a beat as steady as a drum. Mair nodded and pointed to two more players. “Now, you join them. Stand beside them. Turn now. Now.”

As Rani watched, a second length of spidersilk joined the first, also spinning, also striking the ground. There seemed to be more than two ropes at play, more interference in the clear morning air.

“There you go,” Mair called. “One more now. Stand next to the others. Start after the next turn, now.” Three silken ropes, all turning evenly. Mair watched them, bobbing her head slightly as she traced their arcs. “Keep them steady, now. Keep them turning at the same speed. Don’t slow down when you see me move – I’ll adjust for the ropes. On three, then. One. Two. Three.”

The Touched girl ran between the spidersilk, timing her entrance perfectly. She paused as one rope slapped the ground, then leaped just high enough to let it clear beneath her feet. Again, again, and the players kept twirling. When Mair had bobbed up a dozen times, she skipped free of the ropes, emerging on the near side while the steady rhythm continued.

“Don’t stop,” she called. “You can run clear through them, too. Tumble between them.” To illustrate her point, she paused to count the rhythm, nodding her head once again. “There. On three. One. Two. Three.”

Mair sprang at the ropes as if they did not exist, tucking her head and rolling forward, only to land – miraculously – upon both feet. The players let out a shout of collective surprise, and Mair took a mock bow. “All it takes is timing,” she grinned, moving to take the end of one of the ropes so that a player could try her tricks.

“Timing and a foolish faith in others,” Crestman growled, and Rani jumped, for she had not heard the Amanthian approach.

“Not so foolish,” she said, recovering quickly. “If it works, she looks as nimble as a cat. If it fails, she gets slapped by a rope.”

“Or falls on her backside. Hard.” Crestman winced as a player tumbled down.

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