Wild Magic

Chapter 16. Death Dance

Late in the afternoon, some three months after the Prophet returned to Bairroa Pili, Faan was kneeling on the damp dark earth under the Sequbas in a Grove on the east side of the Low City; with the Wild Magic drifting about her,• bubbling, frothing, gently popping, she was using a pointed stick to dig a shallow furrow, reaching into the basket beside her for the eye sections she’d cut from ganda roots.

The claws closed on her brain again.

AGAIN. Every day, day on day on day, Abeyhamal seized her and danced her through the high city, drawing the women from the tenements and the towers, seducing more and more of them across the Wood Bridge into the city.

Faan jerked, dropped the stick in the furrow. Her eyes blurred and vanished behind a faceted darkness. She opened her mouth wide, poured out a deep pulsating hum. The Wild Magic flowed up and swirled about her head like shining silver bees.

She danced out of the Grove and along the lanes and wynds of the Low City, into the kariams and out again, and as she danced, girls came from the houses and the groves, from the rooftops and the gardens and danced after her, mouths wide, eyes dark, staring into dream, seeing with their feet and bodies.

Swaying and humming, silver-bubble bees swarming about them, the Honey Dancers followed the Honey-child across the Wood Bridge into the High City.

She saw Reyna standing by the Bridge watching her, angry and helpless. If she could have spoken, she’d have told him, Mamay, we’re all helpless, I did what I had to, don’t hurt for me. It doesn’t do any good, it only grieves you. I wish… ah, wishes don’t count, do they? Go away from here, Mamay. Stay safe, don’t waste what I’ve done. Mamay, don’t hurt for me.