The Tales of Tarya, Books 1-3

Chapter 2 - Delays and Distractions-1

Delays and Distractions‘The thread,’ Mina said. ‘You followed my thread.’

Uberto nodded. When Rico had kidnapped Isabella in Clusone, thinking she could heal his ill wife, Uberto had suggested Mina follow Isabella’s golden thread in Tarya to locate her. The thread was connected to Isabella’s auric self and Mina had quickly found it, and the captive girl.

‘A nice little trick, and one you unlocked for me. I thought it was possible, but I could not find the way. Yet it was simple, once you showed me how. Another trick to add to my bag. It’s time to go back to the palace, my little bird.’

Uberto’s eyes were a soft, coppery brown, just like Dario’s. Mina thought how easy it could be, to return to the palace, to become a royal player. Maybe the king could send someone to fetch Paolo. Really, it was foolish to try to travel the roads alone. A life of comfort awaited her, if only she would trust Uberto. And perhaps she and Dario could find their way through the pain and be together. Perhaps … Then Uberto’s eyes flickered and were green again, like his daughter Miranda, the girl who had persuaded Paolo to leave home. And Mina remembered the darkness that had overwhelmed her on the palace stage, the bat that had nearly choked the life from her. She was no safer in the king’s residence than anywhere else in all Litonya.

Breaking away from Uberto’s gaze, she spoke to Balto. ‘We need to go now.’

‘No,’ said Uberto, his voice equally as strong, and slid the mask back down onto his face. ‘You need to come with me.’

The fleshy mask became fluid straight away, shifting as Uberto reached Tarya. He didn’t even have time to tie up the leather straps that secured the mask to his head. He simply held it in place. Against her will, Mina found her own self slipping. It had always been easy for her to enter Tarya. Now she realised it was too easy. She had no control. Uberto was taking her there, where he had so much more power at his command than she.

For a second the real world flickered. It filled with light as Mina reached Tarya’s Horizon. She saw soft auras of light superimposed across everything in the real world, and golden threads like cobwebs criss-crossing the air. The light flickered, and was gone, and she stood on the cart again, in bland sunlight. Next to her, Sofia held Uberto’s mask with distaste, like a dead animal, its straps hanging limply.

‘Go, you fool,’ Sofia shouted at Balto, and the man flicked the reins. Uberto reached for the mask, but his fingers slipped off its smooth surface. He howled with anger as the horse picked up speed, and the cart rolled away from him.

‘I know where you’re going,’ he called after them. ‘I knew the minute I found out who you really were.’

Everyone in the street flung themselves out of the way of the horse’s hooves and the huge cart wheels. Mina and Sofia were more concerned some of the bottles around them might shatter with the frenetic movement. Sofia dropped the mask and pulled off her heavy patchwork story teller’s cloak, fanning it as far as possible over the cart’s load. Muffled, the clattering of the bottles did not sound so precarious.

Someone lunged at the cart, a flash of jagged black that made Mina’s heart jump into her throat. Miranda stood on the back running board, holding on with clawed hands, screaming something Mina couldn’t understand. The two girls stared at each other, grey eyes and green locked in silent conflict. Mina felt hatred surge for the girl who had lured Paolo away, perhaps breaking his thread. Paolo was trapped in Tarya, unable to return to the world, and Miranda might be responsible. Mina lunged forward and tried to pry Miranda’s fingers off the back of the cart even as the other girl tried to climb in.

Miranda tore at Mina’s hair, making the younger woman’s eyes sting. She pushed Mina backward, and they both fell into the cart. Mina landed on her back against a crate, the edge slamming into her waist, winding her. The world became still and silent. She could no longer hear the sounds of their rush through the streets, or the background city bustle. To her relief, her scalp no longer hurt. But she could not take a breath. Nothing happened when she tried to drag air into her lungs. Her back arched and she rolled from side to side, falling off the crate and into the bottom of the cart. The edges of her vision began to darken and her body thrashed, but she could not take in any air and her lungs burned. She had never known such panic, or utter helplessness. Something so simple as breathing, which she had always taken for granted, was beyond her. Sofia knelt next to her, eyes desperate. Moments stretched into eternity and the darkness at the edges of her vision crept closer. Like an explosion, a gasp broke through her lips and air rushed in.

The world began again. Whirring and cracking, clinking and banging, the noises of the cart assaulted Mina’s ears. And over these sounds came Miranda’s triumphant cry as she reached Balto and wrapped an olive-skinned arm around his neck, drawing him to her as though in an embrace. Balto tried to push her away, but she had a lock on him and he began shaking his head to escape.

Sofia stood and lunged toward Miranda, catching the other girl by the waist and pulling her backward. They barely managed to remain standing. Balto was free again. He rubbed his neck while urging the horse on. Around them people were screeching and throwing themselves out of the path of the runaway cart. Mina’s head cleared as her breath slowed to normal, and she remembered another incident, not long after she first joined the players, when she had sent Petruchio into a panicked bolt. She let out a high pitched ululation and almost instantly the horse and cart slowed.

Miranda swung her leg back to free herself from Sofia, who was still holding her by the waist, landing a vicious kick on the story teller’s shin. She spun around and glared at Mina, narrowed her eyes and hissed. She looked down and a wicked grin suffused her face. With movements so quick Mina barely realised what was happening, the black-haired player girl leaped forward, grabbed Uberto’s mask from atop a crate and swung herself down off the cart. At the last instant, Mina reached out, leaning from the edge of the moving vehicle. For a moment she almost seemed to hover in mid-air, then somehow found the momentum to fall backward amongst the crates again.

Miranda’s howl of anger and despair silenced the city for a long moment. Still rubbing his neck, Balto kept the cart moving forward through the city streets, although he slowed to a more subdued pace. Sofia and Mina nodded at each other with relief, despite the pain each was feeling from various injuries. Sofia grinned when she saw what Mina now held. It was Uberto’s mask.

~

Left behind, Miranda bent over, trying to catch her breath, and waited for the burning in her throat to die down. Uberto found her as she straightened up.

‘I couldn’t stop them,’ she said. Uberto put an arm around her shoulder. Miranda began to shrug it off, but she was too exhausted, and for the first time in a long time she let her father hug her.

‘Do not worry about it. It would have made things easier to stop her now, but never mind. We can find her easily enough. Will you join us on the road? You always were the best Inamorata.’

Miranda looked at him in surprise, then pulled from his grasp. ‘How can you ask me to travel with you? After what you did? I loved him, Papa. I really loved him. And you tossed him aside, like so many others. Just a tool for the playing.’

Uberto reached out both arms and took his daughter by the shoulders, a light suffusing his face. ‘That’s why you turned against me? I never understood. You just left, in Aurea. And you were so cold.’

‘I don’t know why I came to help you.’ She pulled her arms free and walked away from her father.

Uberto spoke, his voice low, but with decades of experience he was able to project so his words rang clear as music to Miranda’s ears. ‘It was not me.’

Miranda stopped walking.

‘Someone took the key mask. Yes, usually a gold thread cannot be broken without me, but in this case someone else did it. And I have found out who.’

Miranda turned back to her father. Something in his eyes told her he was telling the truth.

‘I swear to you I did not do it. But you’re right, I should never have abandoned him. Let’s go and get Paolo, Miranda.’

Long-held assumptions crumbled, washing away years of hurt. She rushed into Uberto’s arms.

‘I’m out of favour with Her Highness because of that girl,’ she said, her voice high with emotion. ‘I know why you really want to go to him. You think that’s where she’s going. To be honest, I don’t care. I’ll happily help you bring her back here.’

‘Can you cope with seeing him again, my sweet?’

Miranda looked into her father’s eyes, so like her own, at least for the moment. ‘I don’t know, Papa,’ she said. For once, uncertainty flooded her eyes. ‘It can never be as it was, can it?’

Uberto looked at her with surprise. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked carefully.

‘I grew up with Harlequin as my father,’ Miranda said with a shrug. ‘You may have tried to cover it up, but I know what really happens when you use the key mask.’ She clapped her hand to her mouth.

‘Where is it?’ Uberto asked, his voice low.

‘They have it.’

Her father’s eyes become black, unrecognisable. He grasped Miranda’s wrist so tightly she cried out.

‘Papa, Papa,’ she begged, trying to pull her hand away. He looked through her, unseeing. ‘Please, Papa,’ Miranda said, her voice faint. Her fingers tingled with pain. Doubt assailed her. These swift changes had always scared her. Maybe he had harmed her lover, when he was in a dark mood like this, and had no recollection of it.

Uberto’s eyes cleared and he looked down, his expression changing as he saw the fear in his daughter’s face. He released her hand.

‘Don’t tell anyone I’ve lost the mask,’ he said, and his voice suddenly sounded very old. His face crumpled in fear and dejection. He fell into Miranda’s arms, knees buckling, then crumpled to the stones, pulling her with him to the ground.

‘If I don’t get that mask back, it’s over,’ he continued. ‘Without it I’m finished.’

~

‘Gazini players, is there anyone here from the Gazini players?’ a steward called over the noise of artisans packing.

The large banquet hall started to echo as it emptied. The musicians and dancers, who had little to pack, were long gone. Only player troupes and cirquers remained, still boxing up the tools of their trade. Lisette had been loading costumes into Luka’s waiting arms when she heard the steward’s cry. She hurried over to him.

‘I’m of the Gazini,’ she said.

The steward nodded and led her to the far end of the hall, where ornately painted doors led into the main part of the palace. He gestured to a man standing by the door, looking around nervously. There was something familiar about him, but Lisette could not place him. When he saw her, he hurried over. Behind him trailed a girl with deep shadows under her eyes and a look of listless despair Lisette might have recognised, if she had ever seen her own reflection in the years after her daughter died.

‘Are you the healer?’ the man asked, his eyes pleading. He stopped and seemed to collect himself. ‘I’m sorry, I’m Carlo,’ he began again. ‘I thought I’d missed you, and Rico will kill me if I go back without … You are from the Gazini players, aren’t you?’

Lisette nodded. ‘You look for Mina,’ she said.

The man’s shoulders fell. ‘Not you? Where is she? My sister’s here, we’ve come all the way from Clusone to see her. Rico insisted. He was sure she could heal Katriela.’ He indicated the girl behind him, who stood staring at the ground, her hair hanging over her face.