“How do you know ‘Dne?” ‘Ker was flummoxed at this odd looking little man’s asking after his older brother. It was odd to be so far from “home,” so far from the lands he had thought of as his home, and find someone who not only knew his people, directly, but also knew his specific family.

Looking down at the wood of the little table at which he and Stark now sat, feeling the overwhelming miasma of magic surrounding him that all looked to either be emanating from this man in front of him, or tethered directly to him, ‘Tj’Chin’Ker now felt like a very small child sitting across from a very large, very powerful warrior. He knew with a glance that Elgin Stark could wipe all traces of the ‘Tj’Shea known as ‘Tj’Chin’Ker from this world, and probably any other without expending anything like a concerted effort.

As the music washed around the two men, ‘Ker looking and feeling like a small child in the presence of an ancient elder, and Stak studying the younger man calmly from where he sat comfortably in his chair, a glass of smoky liquid idly turning in his large, knurl-knuckled hands, ‘Ker knew now that Elgin was “The Dancer” of legend, but that didn’t explain how he knew exactly who ‘Ker was, and how he knew ‘Ker’s family.

Looking across at the man, ‘Tj’Chin‘Ker searched his memory for the how’s and why’s of who this fellow could have been centuries ago in another land. Trout… Trutt… had confirmed at last that the man looking for him was the Dancer his people had worshiped once upon a time; but even as the Legendary Maker, the Dancer, the first ‘Tj’Chin’Ker, tha being after whom his mother had named him, much to his early childhood dread. The Founder of his people, called Crafter, Builder, …how could this ugly little ape of a man ever have been the center of such idolization by the ‘Tj’Shea? The same race that killed those poor children of theirs born too far from the accepted norms of their own beauty?

It was confusing and vexing, and a puzzle ‘Ker didn’t understand.

Vanity…how could my vain, arrogant, shallow race ever hold THIS in such high

regard? The Mother would never listen to this...most of the Greater Clans would never

give a face like his credence…

“I was there at your birth, boy, and I’ve known your family since before the first

Father and Mother were crowned. In fact, I crowned them.” ‘Ker’s eyes bulged as the man reached out across what suddenly felt like a vast expanse of table, though ‘Ker knew it was barely an arm-length in diameter, and with thick fingers sketched a symbol in the air that the People only witnessed at the crowning of a new monarch, and no other race had ever beheld.

His accent was flawless, even cultured, as he spoke now in the language of the

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‘Tj’Shea. The low and rolling waves of his voice putting to rest all doubts ‘Ker might

have had about the Dancer.

When he spoke in English, however, his slow, drawn out, dawdling English was infuriating to follow. As beautiful a speaker of the People’s Tongue Stark was, ‘Ker noticed that he spoke the formal tongue, the real language that every ‘Tj’Shea loved, like the highest born. Like the Father.

In fact, ‘Ker realized, he spoke like the Father and every other Highborn member of the People wanted to speak; his words and turns of phrase forcing your attention to him. What he said, he said with such gravity and finality it was indisputable. By sheer force of will Elgin had ended that line of conversation by playing the one gambit all elders the world around used since time began, “I’m older and I say so.”

But even so, no elder ‘Ker had ever encountered had yet to wield the authority Elgin had over ‘Tj’Chin’Ker in this amber caught moment of hazy sweet-scented alcohol, oddly rhythmic music and comfortable wood and leather chairs. ‘Ker might have thought his “I Say So” rationale was crap, but the authority was beyond dispute; the Dancer was the oldest being alive if the legends had legs, and as long as he lived, always would be the final authority.

“He was fine the last I saw of him, sir.” Maybe a more deferential tone would be a

better track for ‘Ker to take in this first meeting. “Though I’m sure he thinks I’m dead at

this point. I came through the Dancing Door with two others, and the Court was assured I

would be the sacrifice for the door to open after so long.” He grew silent while the

incalculably old man across the table sipped at his drink, a drink that ‘Ker could now

smell from where he sat; the man was drinking what smelled like pure honey made into a liqueur, possibly with some kind of nut added to the mix for flavor. It was called chavonauruisga at home amongst the People, or Hammer of the Golden Waters.

“The Father told me beforehand that I would be the one to go through, and that the gate so long closed would take the least two souls sent through with me as tribute. My crimes were presented to the Court and the Realm to show the populace that I would go as the blood to grease the wheel.” ‘Tj’Chin’Ker gave a sly smile, “He wouldn’t let anyone know that I was the one he was sending, not those two knotheads he chose to send through with me. I’m surprised anyone thought THEY were going as the Father and Mother’s voice in this matter.”

“I would not have thought Tj’Paw’Zun would have had that level of trickery in him; nor Mal’Una, she always took her cues from her husband when she wasn’t certain about a topic, and the idea of lying to the Royal Court would have made her pluck herself bald…”

“Tj’Paw’Zun was killed a hundred years after the Migration.” Tj’Chin’Ker’s words were barely a whisper, but they stopped Stark abruptly. His ringing silence actually transferred to a few of the surrounding tables, though the Jazz room’s patrons didn’t know the why’s as to their sudden cessation of sound. Most of the newly silenced looked uncomfortable, rabbits running across their graves. The deer in the forest sometimes know when the wolves are about.

Elgin stared at ‘Ker. The deep brown, almost black, of his eyes conveyed shock and a deep pain. What ‘Ker had lived through and come to terms with for almost a thousand years, Elgin was just now learning.

“When? And then, how?”