2
A Well-Dressed Stranger
"Wearing fancy or formal clothes keeps you prepared. It's a mental thing."
Sabra woke the next morning to what seemed to be a mountain of dishes crashing somewhere under the ceiling, and someone cursing. Grinning, she swung herself out of bed and trotted downstairs—which took her a minute to find, as the upper corridor seemed to be in a circle—to the kitchen, where Mae stood with a saucepan in her hand and several pots at her feet.
"Ryna, I need you to—" she began, turning around. Then she spotted Sabra, and her eyes went wide. "My God—Sabra!" Dropping her pan with a loud clang, she hugged Sabra tightly. Sabra pulled back and surveyed her older sister.
Feigning disappointment, she said, "I don't think you've grown at all." I had been a family joke, for Mae was barely five feet tall at twenty-four years.
Mae swatted her playfully. "Well, you've certainly grown. How tall are you now?"
"Five feet, five inches," Sabra said.
Just then another girl rushed into the room. "Sabe!"
The days were past when Sabra could scoop up her little sister Mari, but she somehow managed to catch the eleven-year-old as she charged straight for Sabra's arms. "Hey, Mari! I've missed all you guys! How's the violin coming?"
"Great!" Mari said, beaming. "Hey, I Ryn said you've given up English. How come?"
Sabra shifted uncomfortably. "Well, that is…"
"If it's because of mother," Mae said unexpectedly. "There's no need to worry. She's alive."
Sabra whipped around, dropping Mari unceremoniously. "She what?"
"We'll explain when the rest get here," Mae said gravely. "Mari, go round some of them up." Mari nodded and bounded away just as a tall youth wandered in.
"Sabe, this is Aaron's twin, Ayden."
Sabra shook Ayden's hand. "So—wait—how many siblings do I have, exactly?" Sabra asked apprehensively.
Mae exchanged looks with Ayden. "Er—thirteen, actually."
Sabra gaped. "But—I thought I had five…who are the other eight?"
"You know most of your younger siblings," Mae said. "Mari, Ryna, and Alex. There's also Cade, he's thirteen. And you know me, and now Aaron and Ayden, both seventeen, and also Raidon. Then Kai, who's sixteen, Roy, twenty, Kylie, Aaron and Ayden's triplet, and Marta, twenty-two."
Sabra blinked. "That's a lot of people."
Ayden grinned. "We don't expect you to remember all our names."
Sabra tried not to make her relief too obvious. Mari reentered the room with Alex, the boy Sabra assumed was Cade, Ryna, and Aaron behind her. "The rest are already in the City," she said.
"Well, we may as well go after them," Mae said. "We need everybody here when we tell Sabra. Ryna, go help Sabra find some appropriate clothes." She was eying Sabra's red shirt and jeans with distaste, though she herself was still in her nightshirt.
"What's wrong with my clothes?" Sabra demanded, but Ryna was leading her away.
"Not to worry," she said. "We just don't where that kind of stuff here, that's all."
Picking out clothes with Ryna was nearly as bad as it was with Meera.
"Why does it matter which underwear I have on?" she asked, exasperated. "It's not like anyone's going to see them."
Ryna gave her a serious look over the top of sleeveless pink shirt she was holding up to Sabra. "Somebody might."
"What do you —Oh!" Sabra turned red. "Ryna!"
When Ryna was through with her, she was dressed in the pink top with a short black skirt, and some strange black cloth spread from her back to faster onto her wrists by black bracelets, making them look almost like wings.
"But you can see half my stomach!" Sabra protested, turning around and peering at her back. "And what are these?" she added, waving her arms so the black clothes swooped around.
"We call them tsubasa. They're great for dancing."
"But we're not going dancing!"
"This whole City is dancing and singing," Ryna said. "People are always dancing here. In fact, Singing and Dancing keep this City in the air. Dancers are rarer than Singers, but there are a few. You're one. Come on, now."
"I'm a Dancer?" Sabra said as she followed her twin down the stairs.
"Later," Ryna called airily, and rounded up the rest of her siblings for their trip into the actual City.
Feeling self-conscious in her new outfit, Sabra followed her siblings into the City of Singers. It was like no place she had ever been before. The City was full of golden-white buildings, wide streets of horse-drawn buggies, and music. Every so often they passed a square full of people dancing, singing, and strumming. Seeing other people with tsubasa like her own made her feel a bit more comfortable, though she thought she would never grow used to the feeling of looking around, beyond the golden domes, and seeing clouds, knowing she was high above the earth.
They walked for some times, finally coming to a halt at an inn with a small bar in front.
"You three wait here," Mae said, ushering Sabra, Ryna, and Aaron inside. "We won't be interrupted here. Wait for us to come back with the others."
"Why do they all have to come?" Sabra asked.
"Tradition," Mae said with a smile, and left.
So Sabra and her siblings sat around a table in the small, dark room. The bartender kept shooting them annoyed looks as they made no effort to order anything.
"Is everyone here a Singer or a Dancer?" Sabra asked, peering around at the customers.
"No," Aaron said. "Most of them are Singers, of course, but there are some normal people who live here, mostly people who marry Singers, you know. Then there are the Rangers who pass through here, and occasionally we get demons. The Council used to have trouble sorting the good ones from the bad." He leaned back and stretched. "Luckily, they have a simple test now."
Sabra nodded and arranged her tsubasa behind her like cushions. Se was just wondering whether to get a drink just to stop the bartender from glowering when Aaron leaned forward and said,
"See that man in the corner there?" Sabra turned her eyes to the shadowy, cloaked figure sitting alone in the corner of the bar. His hood was up, and the shadows his face. "He stops in here from time to time, and nobody knows who or what he is. Most think he's a Ranger, though he never shows his face and no one's seen a sword on him—that's usually the sign that someone's a Ranger, if they've got a sword and can't sing for their lives. But there are some who say he's a sorcerer. Rosy—one of are cousins, you know—said she once saw him turn into a dragon. 'Course, she also said he stole Katrina's sowel, which we all know is perfect nonsense, the girl just decided she didn't want to get married after all. But he is a bit mysterious, really, since everybody else here all know each other. We're like one huge extended family. So it's strange no one knows anything about him. They call him Falcon."
"Why?" Sabra asked.
Aaron shrugged. "That's all I know."
Ryna frowned. "But it wasn't only Rosy who said that about the sowels. Andy went a little weird for a couple weeks before he went missing."
"How is it even possible to steal a sowel?" Sabra wondered. "They're not physical beings in this world, are they?"
"They were in the past," Aaron said darkly. "But Mae will tell you about that all when she gets back."
Just then a small crowd of people entered. Sabra looked around to see her other siblings pulling up chairs.
"Oh, good, you're here," Ryna said. "Aaron was just telling Sabe a bit about Falcon."
"Right," Mae said. "Well, let's do this quickly. Being a Singer," she directed at Sabra, "is more than having a talent for music. It doesn't just mean you have a good voice or can play harmonica naturally." Ayden took out a harmonica and played a few bars of music as an example. Mae waved it away. "It's like it's own kind of magic. Now. Aastæveristikemaera." She said the word beautifully, smooth and melodious. "Where our sowels are in body. It's not a different world. It's the past."
A moment of silence greeted her words. Then Sabra said, "How do you mean?"
"When you travel through the arch," Mae explained, "Or any crossing point, you go back in time. The timeframe you've been going to is before civilization. You see, we're all from the past, all different time periods. We're guardians of time, space, light, earth, and music. Long ago, our sowels always lived in body. But someone—or something' began to steal them, and slowly they receded into their familiars' bodies. This City we live in—on, actually—is like a protection zone. Singers use their powers to protect the Five we stand for: Time, Space, Light, Earth, and Music. Our family, in particular, stands against It, the being or creature that was stealing sowels."
"How do we do that?" Sabra asked, her curiosity aroused.
"Well, It used to be restrained by some ancient sorcery," Mae said. "And the older of us have been trying to find out what that sorcery was so we can retie the bindings that used to hold It, because it somehow broke those ties and it now loose and searching for more sowels, though we don't know why. It's been sending minions to lure the unsuspecting into the past to take their sowels, and for now we've been destroying as many of these as we can. The weaker ones, a single Singer alone can kill, but some of the stronger ones take the strength of all twelve of us, and even then some escape."
"But why doesn't It just take the sowels of people in the past?" Sabra interrupted.
"You're thinking like an earthling," Mae said warningly. "And not a Singer. Or a Dancer. To normal people, the past is something over and done with, that can't be accessed. But to us, time is something that's ever changing. Much of our work is in the past, and Dancers can even sometimes reach possible futures." Mae hesitated, as though unsure of what o say next.
"In a nutshell," Raidon broke in, "We protect those five elements from Its minions, and we need your help for the stronger ones. For some reason, It Itself hasn't come out into the open. It must know we're not yet strong enough to defeat It. We've been doing a fair bit of research on It, too, and from what we can tell, It's a good million or so years older than us. And the longer power stews, the more powerful it gets."
Sabra frowned. "But I don't get—I mean, I sort of understand what you mean by using music and singing and dancing to use power, but I don't understand how to do it. I mean, I can dance fairly well, but how o I use that to do, well, magic, if that's what it is?"
"You could call it that," Mae said. "As for how to do it, some of your technique will need training, but most of it will be instinct."
"And also," Sabra said, remembering something. "You said It likes to steal sowels. But Ryna and Aaron were saying that Falcon might do that too…I'm confused."
"Well," Mae confessed, "er, for a time, we thought Falcon might be It…a little far-fetched, and we have no real proof of course, but we're getting a bit desperate…"
"Well, anyway," Ryna said briskly, standing. "That about covers it. I'm off for some dancing. Anyone care to join me?"
Sabra and most of her siblings volunteered to escort Ryna to the nearest dancing square, where Ayden whipped out his harmonica and joined the other Singers in the corner, starting up a lively tune. Roy, Sabra's eldest brother, pulled a ukulele seemingly from nowhere and followed him. Her other siblings danced into the crowd. Sabra noticed with amusement that Ryna was by far the most popular girl, and guys kept getting pushed aside so someone else could have a turn dancing with her. She felt a little left out, however, because everybody seemed to know each other. Then Raidon took her by the hand, spun her under his arm, and turned her over to the next boy he saw. Sabra soon forgot about being new and lost herself in the dance. Everyone seemed to know her, anyway. Soon many boys were asking "Ryna's twin" to dance, and Sabra laughingly went with them, swirling her tsubasa to their fullest flare. Finally, exhausted, she, Ryna, and Marta collapsed onto a cream-colored marble bench to rest.
"When do we go back to the house?" Sabra asked, fanning herself with a tsubasa.
Ryna looked surprised. "Probably not for a few days." She leaned back against the white-gold wall behind her. Seeing Sabra's puzzled look, she explained, "We Singers usually stay out for several days at a time, you know, awake the whole time with just rests like these. Then we sleep straight for twenty-four hours or more." She smiled at Sabra's look of confusion. "It's hard to enjoy a few days at a time if you're unconscious for half of it!"
Sabra had never thought of it that way before, but being new to the schedule, the idea of staying awake for more than a few more hours was a bit daunting.
"You don't have to stay out if you don't want, of course," Ryna said, understanding. "You remember where the house is, right?"
Sabra nodded. There was a moment of silence. Then Ryna flashed Sabra a grin and whirled back into the crowd, grabbing the hands of the first boy she met. Grinning herself, Sabra followed suit.
It was when she glanced up at the sky and estimated she had about half an hour's worth of daylight left that Sabra decided to start home, deducting that it would be easier to find the house in the light. It took her but a minute to find the street she thought was the one they had followed into the City, and from there, she figured it would be easy to get back home. But she soon realized it wasn't quite that simple, for ten minutes later she found herself in a narrow alleyway, and perplexed as to where she was.
"Lost?" said a cool, slightly hoarse voice behind her.
Sabra turned around. A tall, fair-haired young man stood there in a magnificent blue and gold costume. "I—" She began, but suddenly he pushed her back and down against the wall of the alley and crouched protectively over her, looking over his shoulder.
"Quiet!" he hissed. Sabra froze and strained her ears, but she couldn't hear anything unusual. The young man, however, took her hand and pulled her to her feet, saying quietly, "walk with me and act naturally. I'm being followed. I'll bring you back to your house."
Sensing his urgency, Sabra walked stiffly beside him, her tiny hand enveloped in his not-much-bigger one, biting back her "what's going on?" For some strange reason, she found herself admiring the several gold bands on his fingers, each with a different colored gem. As they turned down another side alley, the youth sped up his walk, as though trying to act normal and get away from their pursuers as quickly as possible. Sabra trotted to keep up—and then they were running, he almost pulling her along as they dashed down the narrow streets walled by tall white-gold buildings. She felt his hand slid down around her waist.
"They're in front of us too!" he called. "Hang on—we're going up!" And suddenly, they were shooting skyward with no visible means of support. Sabra instinctively shrank against the fair-haired youth and buried her face in the soft, shiny blue material covering his chest. The open blue and gold cloak of the costume wrapped around them like a shield, leaving only their heads free. Sabra gritted her teeth against the sharp ascent…and then, quite suddenly, forward over the buildings, though at only a slightly slower pace.
"Would you rather walk then fly?" the young man called over the wind rushing in their ears.
"Uh, n-no, this is fine," Sabra stammered, suddenly aware that she was completely pressed against him, with his arm around her waist. Ryna's remark about underwear was ringing in her ears, and she was sure her face had turned bright red. Luckily, her escort didn't seem so notice, and she had to admit she was enjoying their rooftop flight.
"Can you point out your house from here?" he asked as they topped a golden dome. There was a spectacular view of the City behind them, ad ahead she could see her family's mansion.
"It's that big one off to the right," she said, and they sailed, rather more slowly and gracefully than before, down off the golden rooftops and over the outskirts of the City, to land elegantly on the upper porch of the mansion. The costumed youth spun her out of his extravagant cloak and bowed. "I thank you for that marvelous flight," he said generously, and then, more seriously, "they're in the area now, so stay in your house. I'll draw them off."
"Why were they following you—whatever they were?" Sabra asked, not wanting him to leave, though she wasn't sure why.
He smiled thinly. "There are many people who would pay in more than gold for my blood."
"But why? Who? Who are you?" she asked desperately, but he just smiled, stepped backward over the porch railing—and was gone. With a cry, Sabra peered over the rail and into the darkness above, but there was no trace of the young man, only a streak of silvery blue that crossed the night sky.
