A Whisper of Wings Read online

  “There is no art to leading fools; only in avoiding becoming one.”

  “You would be a fool indeed to cross the priesthood, girl! A fool indeed!”

  Zhukora glanced archly down her nose.

  “Why Revered One, do I have something you desire? How very interesting! Now that gives us something to talk about, doesn’t it? You see, there’s one or two things that I might want from you…”

  At last the bargaining began; the High Priestess stopped and planted her fists on either side of her swaying belly.

  “Do not fight us, Zhukora! We have plans, my girl - plans that can advantage both of us. We can go far together, you and I!”

  “Ooooh! You have an offer to make to me, your Reverence?”

  “Give us what we want! Give us Shadarii and we shall talk!”

  Zhukora gave an evil smile. Her fine blue-black wings opened and closed behind her as she eyed the High Priestess.

  “Do you wish to bargain, your Reverence? Shadarii is still negotiable trade goods! Convince me. Who knows? Shadarii might yet be yours.

  “I shall be most interested to hear your offers, Reverence. I shall be waiting with… anticipation.”

  With a sly swirl of her tail the girl departed. The High Priestess stood grinding her fangs in fury, muttering dire oaths beneath her breath.

  ***

  The council fires burned bright against the forest night, catching the gleam and flicker of two thousand watching eyes. Nochorku-Zha sat enthroned amidst the clan council; hunters and gardeners made silent ranks inside the gloom. News of Shadarii’s trial had spread, and so the clan had gathered in to witness the judgement of Nochorku-Zha.

  Within the shadows, a small, soft figure slowly rose against the ferns. Firelight lingered softly on shining orange curves, and the flames were shamed by the figure’s glorious hair.

  Shadarii wandered softly down into the light.

  While Deity such as Wind or Rain were always represented naked, lesser spirits were depicted through formal dress. Tonight Shadarii’s limbs were criss-crossed swirls of colour, and a painted wooden mask hid her pretty face. Shadarii’s clothes hugged close against her plump young curves, and her eyes sparkled with a secret laughter that made the night seem bright. Shadarii warmed the senses with a homely glow, like the taste of golden honey upon fresh made bread. One by one the audience relaxed, basking in the softness of Shadarii’s subtle light.

  The costume was instantly recognisable; tonight she became Fist Mother, Zui-Kashra-Zha, daughter of the Wind and Rain.

  Shadarii knelt and bowed before the council, her heart pounding in her breast. Fail and she was finished; Zhukora had made it all too plain. The council settled back to watch and judge, their eyes hard and unforgiving.

  A ritual dance required at least two dancers, yet no other dancer had offered to give Shadarii aid. None of the dancing girls would risk the displeasure of Zhukora or the Priesthood. Even so, little Kïtashii had come to Shadarii’s rescue. The children had flocked into Shadarii’s arms, and with their help, Shadarii might just triumph yet.

  Shadarii had chosen tonight’s tale with loving care. It was a story of her own invention; the legend of First Mother and the coming of the flowers.

  The expectant hush was broken by a distant trill of sound. Gourd flutes made a haunting, dreamy melody. First Mother looked about and wondered at the beauty of her world, then stretched up to thank the Wind and Rain for the gift of life.

  Shadarii’s interpretation of the character felt strangely soft and gentle; the First Mother seemed like a little child left to run and play. She thrilled to the feel of life within her wings, marveling at the forest air and the soft caress of ïsha. First Mother drank from clean, pure streams and danced in golden sunshine.

  Shadarii lost herself within a reverie of love. Each pose and motion held a world of meaning; each tilt of head and glint of fur told a tale all of its own. Where Shadarii danced the ïsha swirled with wondrous subtle hues.

  First Mother ate the bounty of the forest. She supped on fruits and ate eggs straight from the shells. Someone in the audience laughed as Shadarii rubbed her belly fur. For once Shadarii’s weight became an asset.

  The novelty of food began to wane, and First Mother grew bored with her tasteless fare. The girl sighed and slowly let her eating cease as a supple creature slithered from the shadows.

  The newcomer had the figure a little girl, skinny as an eel and strangely alien. She had fur as grey as swirling ash and hair the pale silver of a drifting winter moon.

  Kïtashii made Shadarii’s heart swell up with pride! The girl’s naked body seemed as eerie as a mantis creeping on a leaf. The Fire spirit made a mocking dance and turned to address the world’s first mortal.

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  Fire posed in thought, a sudden sly tint of craftiness stealing through its ïsha field.

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  First Mother looked up in hope, and her stomach growled in anticipation.

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  The audience bit their lips as Fire sidled closer.

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  <> First mother crept cautiously closer. <>

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  First Mother snatched up her tail in shock! She clasped it hard against her breast and stared in accusation.

  <> She backed away from Fire in horror. <>

  Fire looked with greed at First Mother’s broad backside, then sidled closer, crooning in her ear.

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  Zui-Kashra-Zha hesitantly lifted her antennae.

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  It all seemed fair. Zui-Kashra-Zha licked her lips and thought about the lure of food.

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  The audience were spellbound; Shadarii’s gift for theatre had snared them in her web. Kïtashii played her part with waggish style, and what she lacked in skill she made up for with enthusiasm. Shadarii faded out into the background as the Fire spirit swirled off on its wicked quest; First Mother’s beautiful soft tail would soon be in Fire’s grasp!

  The spirit flew until it reached the sparkling lodges of the stars. The five starlets of the Southern Cross were played by tiny girls from Shadarii’s magic class. They sat and twinkled as best they could, putting on a brave show before their grinning audience. Fire approached the stars with an elaborate air of innocence.

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  The stars eagerly snatched the honeycombs. Although each now had a comb, an extra piece still lay before them; the Stars fell to quarreling bitterly over the delicious titbit until Fire intervened to calm their feud.

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  This started the argument all over once again. The stars each posed and preened, claiming superiority over the others. Finally th
ey stopped just short of blows.

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  The Fire spirit hemmed and hawed, fluttering thoughtfully around and round the twinkling stars. Finally Fire shook its head.

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  The stars grumbled and gave up their shine.

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  Fire flew swiftly back to earth, then rolled the stolen starshine into little balls. Fire held up the world’s first gemstones and laughed with glee.

  First Mother’s tail was as good as won!

  Meanwhile, Zui-Kashra-Zha wandered disconsolately through the forest. Night drew near, and still she had no thing of beauty to show the Fire spirit. Zui-Kashra-Zha cradled her tail lovingly in her hands, listening to the sounds of little birds.

  Birds!

  First Mother raised her eyes in sudden wonder, then spread her wings and raced to meet her foe.

  Fire lay in wait beneath a tree. The spirit sidled closer, ready to snatch away its prize.

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  First Mother smiled and raised her face up to the sky; a hush fell as she brought a brand new gift into the world.

  Softly, quietly, the girl began to sing.

  Music rose, playing out the sounds that Shadarii’s throat could never form. First Mother’s song swirled like a rain of orchid petals. The audience gasped as her aura spilled across them, caressing them with love.

  The song rose to its finish and trailed off into silence. The Fire spirit sagged in defeat. Suddenly the creature sprang up to its feet and dashed the gemstones down into the ground. Beaten! Beaten by a mortal! The spirit tore its hair and pranced in rage.

  Suddenly a shadow fell across the scene. Fire looked up in apprehension as the stars of the southern cross descended to the earth. Mother Rain and Father Wind loomed overhead; Fire tried to hide the fallen jewels, but it was far too late.

  The stars angrily confronted Fire.

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  They snatched back what sparkle they could still find. Far too many fragments had been lost inside the earth. The stars glared at Fire in anger.

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  The Fire looked at the Milky Way in fright, then fell down before First Mother and begged for pity.

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  First Mother wavered; though she knew it might be wrong, she took pity on the weeping spirit.

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  The Fire felt deliriously happy to have escaped so very lightly. The creature touched the mortal’s tail and made it shine with light. With a last hasty glance at the assembled stars, Fire dashed deep into the earth.

  With a sudden cry of joy, First Mother danced off through the forest. She threw her store of colours to the little plants, bringing brightness to the world of dripping green; and so the first flowers came into the world. Zui-Kashra-Zha had invented song and discovered cooking all in a single day.

  Though her body eventually passed away, as all mortal things must do, still her spirit lives to guide her children; and when First Mother flies up to meet her parents, the passage of her tail can still be seen behind her. For when Wind and Rain come down to visit earth, their loving daughter rises up to join them, leaving a sparkling rainbow in the sky.

  The dance done, Shadarii sank down in a graceful bow and covered up her face with the petals of her wings.

  Not a sound came from the audience; thjere was silence even from the great, dark spirits of the trees. Shadarii slowly wilted, her worst fears suddenly seeming to be real.

  Someone suddenly thumped their spear upon the ground; another hunter joined the first, and then another and another. Others swiftly followed until the clearing thundered with applause. Shadarii stared around herself in wonder.

  They had liked it! She was saved!

  Shadarii blushed beneath her mask, then swiftly called the children in to kneel beside her. A renewed outburst of cheering rose from the clan. Shadarii’s ears flushed bright red; she ducked her head, thankful for the cover of her mask.

  “Delightful, girl! Absolutely delightful!” Counselor Fotoki spread wide his hands. “Nochorku-Zha! You’ve kept her hidden from us far too long!”

  Nochorku-Zha sat coldly in the shadows, glancing at Traveesha through slitted eyes.

  “Traveesha - an opinion! Is the brat truly qualified to dance?”

  The Dancing Mistress made to speak, licking at her lips as she tried to force her words. She looked from Javïra to Shadarii, her heart hammering loudly in her throat; suddenly the woman seemed to wilt. Traveesha’s whisper trembled in her throat.

  “She-She is the finest dancer in the tribe…” Mistress Traveesha closed her eyes and looked away. “She can stay. She has won her place amongst us.”

  The High Priestess immediately leapt up to her feet.

  “No! It cannot be! This was not a traditional story. She invented the whole tale! This is close to blasphemy!”

  Counselor Chitoochi snorted irritably, glaring at the Priestess in contempt.

  “Oh nonsense! I agree the tale was improvised, but it has a most innocent charm. Shadarii - did you really invent the tale yourself?”

  Shadarii gave a hesitant little nod, trying to avoid the High Priestess’ eyes, and Chitoochii beamed with delight.

  Nochorku-Zha stirred himself once more and beckoned little Kïtashii closer. The girl slipped off her mask and hesitantly approached the Chief. She bowed clumsily, her skinny rump tilting high up in the air.

  The Chief’s voice blew cold and humourless.

  “Shadarii has had great fortune in her companions. Where did one so young as you learn the skills of dance?”

  Kïtashii answered in a sweet, grave voice that seemed far wiser than her age.

  “Shadarii teaches us herself, my Lord.”

  “Teaches you? But the creature can’t even speak!”

  The little girl paused as though finding the question strangely full of meaning.

  “We understand her well enough, my Lord. Perhaps you have simply never listened.”

  Nochorku-Zha sank back into his cushions, then steepled his fingers and glared out into the dark. Finally the old man reached his decision.

  “Very well. Shadarii, a dancer you remain! It is done.”

  A wild whoop of approval thundered from the crowd, and Shadarii’s face lit up with joy. To her father’s embarrassment, she flung her arms around him and hugged him till she cried.

  Traveesha sucked her teeth and glared about the cheering crowds. Her eyes lighted on Kïtashii, and the little girl quailed beneath her gaze.

  “Kïtashii, come and see me in the morning! You are a dancer as of now.”

  The village seemed to dissolve into a storm of merriment; tribesfolk sang as the instruments rang out through the darkness. Couples laughed and swirled into the sky. Traveesha watched it all through pain dulled eyes, as with a heavy heart she turned back towards her lodge.

  Damn that Javïra! Now she had been forced to contradict herself before the eyes of the entire blasted clan! The last few days had been an absolute disast
er.

  “Traveesha-Zho? A word with you if I may!”

  Zhukora silkily detached herself from the darkness, her lean curves shining beneath the light of distant stars.

  “I have been waiting for you, honoured Mistress. I pray there are no hard feelings between us. You surely understand that I must fight to protect the interests of my sister.”

  Traveesha-Zho sourly turned away.

  “Your sister’s ‘interests’ have filled enough of my time for one day. Forgive me if I retire to my bed.”

  “Please! A moment more! I wish to speak with you about a matter of some-ah- some delicacy. An embarrassment to the both of us. I wish to speak with you about the problem of my sister.”

  Traveesha-Zho reluctantly faced Zhukora.

  “Zhukora, you will forgive my lack of manners.” ïsha flared around the woman like a sullen, fitful flame. “I am tired and I am weary, and I cannot quite face the thought of Shadarii for tonight. She has cost me face before the council. She has made me break faith with my own niece. My one and only wish is to go to bed! Perhaps this nightmare will all look different in the morning.”

  She began to walk away, but Zhukora strolled amiably along beside her. Zhukora’s bodyguard, a quiet blonde girl with haunted eyes, kept silent pace with both of them.

  Traveesha sighed, wearily sat down on a log and let Zhukora have her way.

  “Oh very well, Zhukora, crow just as you like. I have little choice tonight except to listen.”

  “But Traveesha-Zho, your authority is not lost! We all saw the way you stood against the High Priestess. You are a hero! People will long speak of the day that Traveesha held her ground against the mighty priesthood!”

  Traveesha blinked, then stared into the face of hope. She looked in wonder at Zhukora. Why hadn’t she seen all this before? Of course! She was the ultimate victor! Traveesha had triumphed after all!