Side A – Yasgrid
For Yasgrid, the idea of leaving the Darkwood wasn’t one which carried the cultural heritage of being an absolute taboo. Stonelings were free to leave their lands and journey wherever they felt like roaming. Similarly, though Frost Harbor wasn’t host to many peoples of other ancestries, there was no prohibition against non-Stonelings visiting or even taking up permanent residence in Stoneling held lands.
Despite that, King’s words chilled Yasgrid to the core.
“What do you mean she’s not in the Darkwood. Where did she go?” she asked as slowly and calmly as she could manage.
“She is elsewhere,” King said as though that could possibly be answer enough.
“Where elsewhere?” Yasgrid fought to keep the heat out of her voice, knowing that it would not help in this particular situation.
“Yes,” King said, sounding pleased that Yasgrid had understood at last.
Yasgrid bit back first the scream of rage and then the myriad of questions she wanted the answers to.
It was clear.
King did not have those answers.
Or if he did, couldn’t express them in terms that she could follow.
She took a deep breath. Slowly in. Slowly out.
Kyra was lost and held captive. That wasn’t a change from how things had been. That was the problem which had been before her since Yasgrid setout from Blue Falls.
“I need to find her,” Yasgrid said, as much to order the thoughts in her brain as to convey any information to King.
“Yes.” Again he seemed agreeably amused with Yasgrid’s response, like a teacher leading a toddler through a very simple puzzle.
“She said I wouldn’t see her until the solstice again though,” Yasgrid said. “Which could have been Fate Dancer magic, or it could have been hope coupled with knowledge of how her prison was constructed.”
“It need not be only one or the other,” King pointed out.
“That’s true. Just because she was captured doesn’t mean she’s not fighting to escape. If she’s worked out that her prison will open on the solstice then she’ll be building her strength till then.”
“Building strength and gathering intelligence,” King suggested.
Yasgrid had been pacing in a small circle as she’d been thinking. That froze her mid-step.
“She thinks Elshira is impossible to defeat, but she thought rescuing Donar from her people was impossible too,” Yasgrid said, a new vision piecing itself together before her mind’s eye. “She’s going to fight Elshira when Elshira’s at her weakest.”
They’d all known, Naosha, Kayelle, Marianne, and Yasgrid herself, that the most critical aspect of their resistance to Elshira’s machinations was the need to understand what Elshira was doing and what she was capable of. Marianne had raised the idea of how valuable a spy in Elshira’s ranks might be, but given the fact that Elshira’s army was composed of Troubles that had seemed like a non-viable approach. Even if they could have suborned a Trouble so that it would work for them rather than Elshira, being able to trust what the Trouble reported wasn’t something they’d ever be able to risk.
Kyra though? Capturing Kyra was likely the worst mistake Elshira had ever made, and Yasgrid suspected the Fate Dancer was going to make that known all too clearly come the solstice. All she needed was for Yasgrid to be ready to back her up.
Side B – Nia
Pelegar was somewhat less forgiving of the shock Nia had given them all than Margrada was.
“Do you think if I cut of her hands that would convince her to stop trying stupid things?” she asked, speaking to Margrada since she seemed to have decided that trying to have a rational conversation with Nia was a lost cause.
“What makes you think she wouldn’t just play with the stumps?” Margrada asked in return, which wasn’t exactly a defense of Nia’s sensibility but Nia couldn’t object much. With everything she’d put the two of them through so far she felt she’d earned a bit of wrath.
“I’d suggest cutting off her head, but that wouldn’t stop her either would it,” Pelegar said. “It’s not like she keeps anything useful up there.”
“I’d prefer to keep her parts attached if we could,” Margrada said. “She does some nice things with them.”
Pelegar narrowed her eyes and then shook her head in disgust, “ugh, young love, just the worst.”
“Yes m’am,” Margrada said with only a hint of amusement dancing around the corners of her eyes.
Pelegar frowned deeper and shook her head again.
“How did we do at the last Battle of the Bands?” Nia asked, remembering that they’d been two day out from the town of Silver Mill when she’d gone to sleep and done foolish things to help save Yasgrid.
A new scowl blossomed on Pelegar’s face.
“We lost,” she said.
“We didn’t win,” Margrada corrected her. “Silver Mill didn’t either though.”
“Uh, how does that happen?” Nia asked.
“We played evenly against the other band,” Margrada said. “Half the crowd was screaming for them and half for us. So we played a Seven Series to decide the winner.”
Nia searched her memory and came up blank on what a ‘Seven Series’ might be. Given that it was Shatter Drumming related she was certain it wasn’t something she’d heard mentioned even in passing before.
“Seven of us play one-on-one against seven of them,” Pelegar explained. “It’s not something that comes up that often. It’s one of the reasons we don’t allow weak players in the band though. Who plays each round is chosen by the other team.”
“How did no one win that?” Nia asked. “One side had to win at least four of the matches right?”
“Nope,” Margrada said. “We went 3-3-1.”
“How do you tie in a one-on-one?” Nia asked, glancing between Margrada and Pelegar. From her memory of the first Battle of the Bands, Nia couldn’t imagine the kind of fury the drummers would have been unleashing on each other, but it did occur to her that she might be working from a sample which wasn’t entirely representative of what a normal Shatter Drum battle looked like.
“The last drummers knocked each other out,” Pelegar said, averting her gaze from Nia’s.
“They knocked each other out? How?” Nia asked.
“Neither one backed down as they kept quickening the beat,” Margrada said. “It was amazing to watch.”
“What happened? Are they okay?” Nia asked, picturing the sort of cataclysmic results that could come from completely unrestrained Shatter Drumming.
“Yeah, I’m meeting her for dinner tonight,” Pelegar said, definitely not meeting Nia’s gaze.