Well, that may not be exactly true, came that annoying voice of conscience in my mind, the kind of voice you like to hear muted when the little demon that sits on the opposite shoulder comes over with a gag and a length of rope. I'd began playing on my mandolin the song of the Freeing of Skara Brae when I saw Syrana enter the great mass of dancers, her hair framing her face, almost to the point of obscuring it.
I knew why, in logical terms, why I was drawn toward her. She reminded me of Claire -- when we were both just a little older than that age. He hair was long and lighter than Claire's short, ebony tresses, but the eyes were almost a match. Syrana's attitude -- at least pre-Beholder attack -- was close to Claire's supremely confident, teasing tones. I have to agree that I am not well versed in what Harrison might call "psychology" -- studies of human nature or the mind -- but I can identify that my need to help her after the attack was a combination of knowing what the sensation of having one's memories torn from them is like combined with what I felt at not being able to save Claire; I could not let Syrana die, seeing that as a repeat of my earlier failure.
Over the last two days I'd convinced myself of this -- but I shook it quick from my mind as my piece ended, and I was greeted with great applause. One cannot go wrong there. The rest of the musicians took things off in a different direction as I made my way back to where Cecily, Harrison, and the others were sitting, but I never made it, as I felt a small hand grasp my forearm from the side. "Shall we?" asked Syrana, not exactly waiting for my answer as she pulled me out on the dance floor.
It was a lively tune, and the pace picked up yet again (with Syrana providing direction, though to my knowledge I hadn't missed a step). She was seeming much more herself, and we settled into easy banter for a while until we both seemed to be unsettled by what might have been innuendo. Luckily (well, maybe not luckily) two Eeryians seemed to begin fighting. The male through the woman to the ground, and her cheek was bloodied. "HEY!," I shouted, our dance ground to a halt. The couple just looked at me like I was high from lotus; Syrana and I could only look at each other, and then we began dancing again.
"What was that about?" I wondered out loud, and Syrana mused that it might have been some kind of courtship gesture. About that time Fletcher cut in.
*****
It was not jealousy that I felt, watching them spin around the dance floor -- it had a lot more to do with Syrana's well being and the angry words that Fletcher and Gerda had shared. Off to my right Cecily was talking with Dragos at the same time as trying to keep some Eeryians from turning her fiddle into a pile of horsehair and kindling, and before I knew it, Fletcher had brought Syrana back, and he didn't exactly look either enthused or amused. I guess I couldn't blame Syrana -- Fletcher pretty much said in few uncertain terms that the next time he saw Gerda, she was a dead woman. Hard to take a shine to someone who's determined to kill your sister, no matter how you may feel about her. Besides, I'd always gotten this weird feeling off Gerda and Fletcher, as if just before they'd start killing each other, in the heat of that moment, they'd instead fall into a passion of quite another kind.
There was one last item of frustration in my mind that would keep me from truly enjoying myself until I'd cleared it -- the feeling that we were trotting our horses in circles here. Our hosts more gracious, yes, but Amber still lay in wait -- where the answers to all of our questions supposedly lie. First was this Llewella that Benedict directed us towards. Unfortunately, the injures to Cecily would keep us here a week, by Harrison's guess. Ah well; I could bide my time. I did not that it was not unlike a child waiting for Candlemas.
The party wore on, and there was more dancing, drink and song. Despite the earlier letdown, Fletcher seemed to be enjoying himself more than I'd ever seen before. Both Stark and Shen, who had been around before, were now missing, and Harrison began assisting Cecily back towards the caves. I decided to take one more crack at life as a young man, and spent it in celebration, Syrana dancing along at my side, until dawn's first light.
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