The Tales of Tarya, Books 1-3

Chapter 9 - Darkness and Light-3

As Mina reached this terrible thought, she remembered her real self was still sitting beside Vincenzo on the wagon. She knew nothing about him, other than he was a player of many years’ experience. He must have harvested the gold threads at some point, taking a new character. Taking someone else’s life for the playing. Panic gripped her. What if she were telling Vincenzo now about her discovery? She had to return to her body.

Once, years ago, Mina’s parents had taken her to swim in the ocean not far from Andon. A great wave had come over her, stopping her from catching her breath as she struggled to return to shore, her parents oblivious to her difficulty. Paolo had saved her, grabbing her as she began to lose consciousness. Now, the struggle felt the same. Panic choked her chest as she pushed against the fractured light, trying to find a way out of Tarya. All around her tiny rainbows seemed to rise out of the miasma of brilliance and reach pinpoints of clarity. She was surrounded by them and an overwhelming sense of pain and need confused her. She couldn’t see how to reach the Place of Dreams. She was gulping for breath, without breathing, her whole being heaving with the struggle.

Then one of the rainbows burst through her etheric self, and Paolo found her. He was here, trapped in the river. And he wanted to save her, just as he had all those years ago. She didn’t know how she knew, but it was the very essence of the brother she loved. And he guided her, swiftly and gently, to follow the gold thread that spun from herself here, to herself on the wagon. Mina wanted to stay with Paolo, or this fragment of him, but the instant she became aware of the gold thread, she hurtled downward, back into her body. Still, that fleeting contact was enough for her to know, with absolute certainty, that at least one player knew what devastation was wreaked by breaking the gold threads in the Place of Dreams. The understanding she gained when she’d touched Paolo’s light was unequivocal. Though she didn’t feel the tearing pain, she experienced Paolo’s spirit being torn apart from his body, and knew, as he did, that another player, seasons past, had been with him in the Place of Dreams, during a transformation, and had broken his gold thread deliberately.

~

‘The gates of Aurea!’ Vincenzo announced, his eyes on the gates.

Mina shielded her eyes until the light faded to normal. Tentatively, she spoke. ‘How did I do? Did I transform?’

Vincenzo looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then he gave a grimaced smile. ‘No. Perhaps if you’d had a mask, eh? But you told the tale so well I almost did! Don’t let it worry you. I’ll think of something else.’

‘But I …’ Mina began, then stopped herself. She had just reached Tarya without a mask. Only the Inamorato did that, and even they wore a mask of sorts, with their painted faces. She guessed it was probably best if she kept this newly discovered ability to herself until she had time to think about it.

Vincenzo interrupted her thoughts. ‘Look, we’ve arrived!’

While Mina was in Tarya they had reached the city. The gates that had been so distant now loomed over them. Dawn’s brilliant gold was a memory. The soft early morning light picked out every ancient, giant stone that formed the city wall. Long bronze poles crisscrossed with loops formed gates so tall, Mina had to lean backward to see their height. She saw that the overall effect was a cobweb, woven between the massive stones.

At the base there were small tears in the web, but as they neared the gate, Mina realised they weren’t small at all, because the other players’ wagons were beginning to pass right through. Trying to take it all in, Mina took another minute to notice large crystals fused onto the bronze, like giant droplets of water.

‘They’re beautiful!’ was all she could gasp.

Vincenzo nodded. ‘You’ll never forget your first sight of the great gates. Legend has it they were woven by the Creator himself. Nobody knows how the crystals are attached to the gate. They resist any attempts at thievery. I’ll stop the wagon so you can see what happens when the sun reaches them.’

Vincenzo let out a great whistle that carried easily in the quiet of early morning. The top half of the back door of the next wagon swung open and Dario appeared, winking when he saw Mina.

‘Good morning, my beauty,’ he called out.

‘Don’t call me that! Mina will get jealous,’ Vincenzo said, with a hearty laugh. ‘I’ll stop here to show Mina the gates, eh? It’s nearly time.’

Dario nodded and disappeared. The whistle echoed in the distance. Vincenzo reined Petruchio in and the wagon staggered to a stop.

‘Time for what?’ Mina asked.

Vincenzo didn’t seem to hear her. ‘We’ll stop anyway, even if they go on. We can easily catch up. I’ve been to the palace before. I know the way. And one need only follow the stars.’

Before Mina could ask what he meant, the wagon in front stopped a little way ahead. Dario appeared from the side, closely followed by Jal. Dario walked up to Mina, took her hand and kissed it. With ease, he leaped up to the seat and pulled Mina onto his lap, his arms around her. Jal stood by the wagon, sniggering.

‘The others have gone on ahead,’ Jal said. ‘Uberto wants to get organised, find out where we’re sleeping, start getting set up.’

A random ray of sunlight caught one of the crystals then, splintering as it passed through the transparent stone, so that a rainbow burst from the gate, spraying colours across the ground below. Mina had never seen anything so beautiful. She admired the rainbow for as long as it remained, and when it faded as the sunbeam moved on, she let out a great sigh.

‘Oh thank you, thank you. That was so …’

Dario squeezed her hand. ‘Wait,’ he said.

And what had begun now grew. Beams of sunlight began striking the crystals, and every one of them was perfectly angled to capture the morning sun. Rainbow after rainbow washed the ground around them. The wagons were painted with the incredible light. Mina looked at her own hands and saw they were suffused with colour. Dario’s face was green fading into blue, and Jal’s was orange and red. They all laughed out loud at the wonder of it. The colours were the vivid hues of fresh fruit.

‘Does it do this all the time?’ Mina asked wonderingly.

‘No. Only once a year. For four days. The eve of the Festival of Lights, then the three days of the festival itself.’

Mina’s mouth dropped open. ‘Is this why it’s the Festival of Lights?’ she asked, astonished. She’d celebrated the festival her entire life without knowing about this aspect of it.

‘During the festival we celebrate the light of summer, and the spark of creative genius. The gates symbolise both. They say they were made by the Creator in the depths of story. Who really knows how the festival evolved? But given the timing, I’m sure these gates are part of it, eh?’

Vincenzo smiled at his little lecture, and continued.

‘Have your travel companions told you, Mina, what happens during the festival?’

‘Well, at home we make lanterns, and we hold a feast, leaving a place for the Creator. I know the artisans’ competition happens here, every five years. I’m guessing there’s still a feast too. Probably a lot bigger than I’m used to.’

Vincenzo laughed. His face looked strange, a deep purple from the refracted light.

‘You could say that. As artisans we’re invited to attend the festival feast, although as players we definitely don’t get the place of honour. But this is a sacred festival too. Tonight we hold vigil, to find the inspiration of the Creator. Tomorrow, we immerse ourselves in the festivities in the street to remember what makes us human. And then …’

Jal interrupted. ‘The competition! Two days of performances, while the king and queen and the Council of Muses sit in judgment. The lucky ones catch the queen’s scarves, and go first. And there is the exhibition, all the artwork and sculpture and so on. By sunset on the second day, anyone who hasn’t had their turn yet misses out.’

Dario laughed. ‘Wouldn’t that kill you, to work so hard then just miss out?’

Jal continued, silencing Dario with a look. ‘Then on the evening of the third day, there’s the feast. But it’s difficult to enjoy it because you’re all waiting to hear who’s won. But the winners will live in the palace for five years, and receive all kinds of gifts. They’ll get to feast with the king and queen, play in the maze, meet the menagerie …’

‘The menagerie?’ Mina asked, startled. She’d never heard the term.

‘Oh, the king keeps all kinds of animals. Peacocks and wolves and deer and lions. When my father was the royal sculptor I got to go and feed them sometimes.’

His skin was leaching colour, the orange and red fading and slipping off the side of his face, like a mask removed. The rainbows receded, leaving bright morning sunlight skimming over the large crystals. Mina sighed and hoped she could come out to the gates again before the festival was over. She turned to ask Jal what a lion was.

‘Time to move on,’ Vincenzo said, before she could speak. He flicked the reins against Petruchio’s flank and the wagon began a slow crawl forward. Jal walked alongside the wagon, keeping up easily as they passed under the giant gates and into Aurea itself. Crowds of people moved easily around the wagon on the broad road. Somewhere in the crowd a cheer began, and it took the players a moment to realise the cheer was for them.

‘Huzzah for the players!’ the cry rang out.

Children ran up to the wagon, reaching up to shake hands with Dario and Mina. Vincenzo concentrated on steering Petruchio through the crowd. Mina could almost understand now why Isabella had laughed at her in Baritz. Compared to Aurea, Baritz was tiny.

They came first upon a marketplace. From her position in the wagon, Mina couldn’t tell what half the colourful produce was. She longed to take hours to explore. Yet surprisingly quickly they passed beyond the market and through a crossroads into wide streets.

Few of the houses they passed were thatched like those in the smaller towns. Most boasted some form of plates on their roofs, locked together in a repeating pattern. The first tall houses they saw were of dark wood, stained with immeasurable years of grime, although many were festively decorated with lanterns and long garlands of flowers hanging from window ledges. Banners hung from windows everywhere, in scarlet and sapphire and amethyst and emerald. In the centre of each was a seven-pointed star, stitched in gold and glistening in the sun.

As they approached the heart of Aurea the buildings stretched higher, and were built of lighter woods, some so pale they looked like stone. Sculptures appeared on many buildings. One had a recurring motif of spiders, crawling over window frames and walls. On another, birds perched in unexpected crevices, and it took Mina a minute to realise they didn’t move. Other buildings boasted strange, winged creatures. And some had people leaning out of windows that Mina quickly realised weren’t windows at all, but more carvings.

After another crossroad, the buildings sported tiles cleverly arrayed to form complete pictures. Flowers bloomed in brilliant blues and reds across the side of one building, and as they neared them, Mina saw the individual tiles were also painted with small flowers. On another wall painted blue, tiles in white and grey formed clouds so cleverly shaded they almost moved. Up close, Mina thought she caught glimpses of winged people on the individual tiles, but the wagon kept moving forward.