Wednesday, October 12, 2005

   Chapter 12: Black Tears (part 2)
At the end of the following day, when the two suns were across from each other in the sky, the Caravan drifted into Murneske, to be greeted by thunderous applause. The angel’s city covered an entire hill, built entirely of stone. It was simple and practical, with paved streets and wide alleys. Like Quont-Ein, there was a castle on the top of the hill, although this one was entirely made of stone bricks instead of gold.
They tied their boats to the docks, where a crowd of angels awaited them. Within half an hour, they were herded up to the castle and into the huge courtyard, where tables had been set out with food.
“Wow!” Lucifer exclaimed. Sasheeta’s eyes got big when they fell on a huge platter of raw fish from her perch on his shoulder.
“Before we start the party,” Contra yelled over the growing cacophony, quieting the angels and the Caravan, “boy’s dorms are to the left, girl dorms are to the right! Two to a room. That is all!”
With his last words, music jumped out over the crowd and filled the courtyard. Pen was awestruck by it, since none of the music that the wisepeople of the Archives played were as energetic or as wild as what he now heard. Strangely drawn by the sounds, he swam through the crowds around the tables and found the corner where the musicians were.
They were a group of three elves and three angels. An old, gray-haired, kind-looking angel, an elf with wild, curly blonde hair, and a brown-haired elf-girl played violins, fiddling the quick-paced melody from a rickety wooden music stand. Beside them, sitting on book-crates, an elf and an angel were armed with guitars and bells strapped to their ankles that rang as they tapped their feet. The last angel was a handsome young man with black hair and inticrately-pattered wings, playing an instrument that Pen had never seen before. It looked like a wooden box with a long neck that was taller than the musician, carved into the shape of a horse’s head at the top. Its single string was thick—presumably spun from hog guts—and made a deep, vibrating sound when it was plucked.
Pen was so spellbound by the mix of chords and rhythms that he took a seat right on the grass before the musicians and listened. He unsheathed Lucaya and set her across his lap, feeling as her blade vibrated with the music.
After half an hour, Lucifer finally found him. “I was wondering where you had gone,” he said as he sat down beside him. The curly-haired violinist winked at them and smiled while she played.
As the night began to close on them, they struck up a slow tune. The people quieted down to listen to the sad melody, which seemed to echo over the hills for miles.
Pen began to feel something while the song flowed. He didn’t know what was happening, but he began to ache inside; a great fire was there, like nothing he ever felt before. An emptyness filled his entire being. The music sang.
A drop of something black dropped onto Lucaya’s blade, where it slid off and disappeared in the shadows.
“Pen,” Lucifer said quietly, surprising Pen. The black-eyed boy looked up suddenly, meeting his gentle eyes, and saw that they were filled with pain and care. “Pen, you’re crying.”
Pen could no longer stand it. He stumbled to his feet, clutching Lucaya to his chest, and ran up the stairs to the deserted boy’s dorms. Heads turned as Lucifer raced after him.
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