Side A – Yasgrid
Yasgrid was pretty sure she could guess the whole story of what had happened to Kyra based on the simple assumptions that the Fate Dancers were a pack of idiots and that Elshira was not. To be fair though, she held her tongue and let Kyra’s mother take whatever time she felt she needed before speaking again.
“There is talk that she abandoned her post,” Kyra’s mother said. “Some say she has fled the shame of her failure and disobedience. Others that she has run to the Deep Roads, seeking to put right what she let go wrong.”
Yasgrid drew in a long, slow breath, each dram of air working to suppress the scream of rage that filled her heart.
There are times when honesty is the best policy.
This was not one of them.
She tried to picture how Naosha had ever worked with the Fate Dancers, and arrived at the conclusion that Naosha hadn’t. There was no ‘working with’ people who were so fundamentally misguided and obtuse. Aiming them at a problem as an expendable resource though? Yasgrid knew that wasn’t a morally upright action but the chasm of temptation was a deep one.
“And the other missing sentries?” Yasgrid asked.
“Glory seeking the remnants of the army of Troubles.”
“Clever,” Yasgrid said, complimenting Elshira who might very well be listening in since there was no anti-scrying tea in evidence. “You know Kyra didn’t flee though. And she’s not seeking Donar anymore.”
“No. She’s not.”
“Did she talk to you about what she learned while she and I were together?” Yasgrid asked. Though she was the one inside the cage, Yasgrid felt it was Kyra’s mother who was the prisoner at the moment. Only iron bars held Yasgrid in. The bonds of material affection that rooted Kyra’s mother to the spot were so much stronger than that.
“No. She wouldn’t tell anyone anything about what you did.”
“[Sleeping gods],” Yasgrid cursed in Low Quand.
“What did you say?”
“I said that your daughter is an idiot and should have blamed everything on me. What was she thinking? She said nothing? Nothing at all? She just took all the responsibility for herself?” Yasgrid growled in frustration. Part of her had wondered if that was why Kyra had sent her away. A particularly stupid subsection of that fragment of her psyche had possibly even hoped for it. The larger part of her knew how foolish that had been though.
The Fate Dancers were never going to love or even tolerate any Bearer, and especially not Yasgrid. Not given how Kyra had reacted to Endings claim about how and why the First Fate Dancer had died, coupled with what Yasgrid had done to Donar.
“What did you tell her that would have saved her from the shame of failure,” Kyra’s mother asked.
“Nothing,” Yasgrid said, shaking her head. And it was true. There was no claim Kyra could have made that would have excused going behind her people’s back. Nothing that could make up for the sin of trying to save an innocent boy.
The anger inside Yasgrid burned murderously hot and she forced herself to take another slow breath. Indulging in violence would help no one except Elshira.
“She’s in danger now,” Yasgrid said, feeling the need for perfect clarity.
“She is no more,” Kyra’s mother said.
Side B – Nia
Nia knew the trip to the Darkwood promised to be a fatal one for Osdora. She also knew nothing she could say would convince Osdora of that fact.
“We have to go with you,” she said instead. She doubted her presence would convince the Darkwood to tolerate an outsider, much less carry any weight with the border patrols who would get to them before the Darkwood’s magic even had a chance to act, but traveling with Osdora would give her weeks or months to convince Osdora what a bad idea the journey was.
“You can’t and you don’t want to,” Osdora said.
“I want a lot of things,” Nia said. “Not seeing you die ranks pretty highly on the list.”
Osdora and Gossma exchanged looks at that and Nia had the sense that they communicated more in a brief flash of expressions than she could have in an hour of dialog.
“I appreciate that. I really do,” Osdora said. “But you can’t. You need to practice and train and compete, and the only place you’re going to get to do that is here. With me gone, the Shatter Band is going to need every player it can get. The two of you are just fledglings still, but there’s not a drummer in that band that could do what you’re doing now. Well, no drummer except Pelegar, but don’t tell her I said that.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you need us,” Nia said.
“And we can practice just as well on a journey as we can with the band,” Margrada said.
“Yeah, we’ll probably get to drum back sea serpents or something if we go with you,” Nia said. “You know we won’t get anything like that with the band.”
“Come with us and you’ll get sea serpents all right,” Gossma said. “You’ll even get plenty of time to practice. What you won’t get is the real experience you need.”
“What do you mean?” Nia asked. “How is playing out in the world, not real experience?”
“It’s real,” Osdora said. “It’s just not the experience you need. You have all your life and all your personal time to learn to play in the world. Playing solo, or playing together like you are now? That’s great. It’s valuable stuff, but it’s not playing with the Band.”
“She’s right. There are techniques you need to learn now, while you’re still forming your style,” Gossma said. “Balancing your playing with others, communicating through your instruments silences as much as through the beats. Learning how to blend together and when to rise above. There’s so much you don’t know yet and so much you can learn. Or you can wind up like me. Too set in her own style to ever work with anyone else. Half a drummer at best.”
Osdora snorted.
“The best half drummer in the world, maybe,” she said. “And too good to play with almost anyone else.”
“None of that changes the fact that you are not going to be able to even get near the Darkwood without me, much less find the music within it’s magics,” Nia said.
Osdora raised a finger to object, but before she could a light went on behind her eyes.
“Maybe that’s not a problem,” she said. “I have an idea.”
She slung her pack off her shoulder and unfolded the small Shatter Drum from its protective wrapping.
“Want to try something impossible?” she asked.