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“This kind of religion is too odd for me,” he muttered to himself. They haven’t pulled the cliffs down yet.” He nodded to a waiting messenger and held up a hand for that young woman’s scroll.īriar scowled at the river, then at the dancing shamans. People have been getting statues from Gyongxe’s stone for generations, Briar. That’s why there’s more than one dancer, so if one gets a step wrong, the others correct for it. “How do you know they’re doing it right?” “What if the cliff falls on us?” he demanded. It does involve a little bit of shaking.”īriar looked at the ink in the dish by his side. “They’re calling a statue for their temple out of the cliff.
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“Why should I be worried? I told you what they’re doing,” the God-King reminded Briar. He also wore eleven earrings, six in one ear, and five in the other, made of the same materials. He wore it in a braid, strung with rings of precious metals or semiprecious stones, each a symbol of the eleven gods he served. From the moment he had been chosen as God-King, he had grown the hair at the crown of his head long. Like most Gyongxin boys and girls, he wore his shiny black hair cut very short, with one exception. He was dressed even more simply than the shamans in an undyed, black-bordered long-sleeved tunic, undyed quilted breeches, and black boots. The ruler of Gyongxe was an eleven-year-old boy with the ruddy bronze skin, long brown eyes, and short, wide nose of his people. The God-King looked up from his own desk. “What are they doing ?” he asked the boy who sat nearby. The longer the shamans danced, the more pronounced the quiver grew.
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As they did, Briar started to feel a quiver under his rump. Briar would not call what they produced “music.” The shamans - three men and two women in dark brown homespun robes - shuffled, turned, and hopped, ringing the small cymbals that were fixed to their hands. Crouched near to the shamans were two horn players, a drummer, and three players of singing bowls. There five shamans from the Skipping Mountain Goat Tribe stood before a sheer rock face on the cliff opposite Briar and his companion. He sat cross-legged on cushions with a traveling desk on his lap, but his eyes were fixed just now on the events across the river. He wore a green silk quilted tunic patterned with light green willow leaves, gold-brown quilted breeches, and the calf-high soft boots that were popular in the mountains.
MAGIC STEPS TAMORA PIERCE SKIN
He was the foreigner, his skin a light shade of bronze, his nose long and thin, his eyes a startling gray-green in this land of brown-eyed easterners. It whistled down the canyon, making the banners around them snap.īriar Moss was the older of the two, sixteen and a fully accredited mage of the Living Circle school in Emelan. Two boy-men sat on the river’s eastern bank, where an open-fronted tent gave them shelter from the chilly spring wind. O UTSIDE THE WALLS OF G ARMASHING, CAPITAL OF G YONGXE I N THE CANYON OF THE T OM S HO R IVER F AR TO THE EAST OF W INDING C IRCLE TEMPLE I N THE MONTH OF C ARP M OON THE CALENDAR OF MONTHS FOR THE CIRCLE UNIVERSE