Syha insisted we dance that evening. I'll never know why. It was foolish and dangerous.
"And all part of the trap," she reminded us. We could hardly turn back now, though I couldn't help wondering exactly who was being trapped.
Perhaps she sensed it would be the last time we would get to dance together for a long while. So we danced outside the camper, in public. Of course we drew a crowd as usual. It could have been any old normal day, but it was not.
Both Tindar and I danced badly. We watched the faces in the crowd for any sign of kooks and thieves. We watched for anyone drawing a weapon...anyone looking nervous or shifty. Most of all, we watched for anything that might remotely pass for a
Time Warren. In all the discussion and preparation, why had we never asked
Serghan what they would look like?
Unlike the two of us, Syha is flat out incapable of dancing badly or being distracted while she does it. For at least an hour a day in Syha's world, there is only her and movement, nothing more. Can a dance be fierce and graceful? She spun and leaped to the very edge of control and held right there. abandoning her body to the whim of the night breeze. The whole time, a vibrant smile never left her lips. I almost never get to watch her dance. I'm always dancing too. I must do it more often. It reminds me vividly of all the things I love about her most.
Syha the fearless: she ranged the perimeter of the crowd engaging everyone in orbit around her moving world. She had them in the palm of her hand....except one dour face. In the midst of all the smiling admiration it stood out like an elephant in a sock drawer. We had our first kook. I glanced at Tindar, but he saw it too and was already moving. As she danced past, she grazed the back of her hand across the kook's cheek. He wavered, ever so briefly...the dour look melting. Tindar and I had both been at a full run, but we hesitated when we saw the change.
It didn't last.
As Syha danced away, following the circle of people clockwise the dour-faced man pulled out a knife and followed her into the circle. Of course this didn't register in Syha's world of movement. She was fully in the experience until the last second when the dour man was upon her. I saw her drop to the ground, not hurt but from instinct.
"You can't take your Wanderer treasures with you!" was all the knife-wielding man said as he drew back to swing.
Next came a twist we hadn't seen coming. Neither Tindar nor I had picked these three guys out of the crowd.
Enter the thieves.
From across the now panicked circle a single shot rang out. The dour man dropped the knife, then dropped to the ground himself, shrieking and clutching the shoulder of the arm which had been holding the knife. The crowd dispersed like the perfect break in a game of billiards.
Poof, instant privacy!
"So you know all about this treasure do you?" the man with the gun asked, lowering the barrel level with Tindar's chest and staring him down.
With that single statement, an unexpected shift happened. Suddenly the plan clicked into place. Now that the unknown had vanished like a wisp of vapor, much to his shock, Tindar found himself in a position of power here.
"I surely do," Tindar grinned in that sly way I knew so well. "And it would have been a lot easier to talk about that if you gents had some manners, some self control...knew how to make an entrance. As it is, we have a few loose ends to take care of before we can deal with the matter of treasure."
"I saved her life," objected the gunman.
"Somehow I doubt that. You'd be surprised how well Syha can take care of herself." It was a bluff, I think, but one which obviously unnerved them a bit. "Now, first thing we have to do is take Mr. Butcher Knife here to someone who can fix up that shoulder."
Syha was already leaning over her assailant, propping him up so the wound was above his heart, applying pressure to hopefully stop the bleeding.
"Um, Man Holding Gun here!" he reasserted his superior position.
"Um, People Holding Secrets who have to stay alive to help you here!" Tindar corrected him with a poorly hidden grin.
I could tell by the pained expression on his face...he got it.
"Someone in authority is going to be along any time once word of this gets around. And that's something I don't think either of us really wants. So perhaps if we work together to speed things along," I suggested.
"Absolutely. I'm suggesting a quick drive by a shelter, they'll get him some help, and then a quicker drive out of town," Tindar added.
"Well, our vehicle is a little...distinctive," Syha said over her shoulder. "Perhaps the hit man over there could spare a thug to do that part."
"I'm NOT dealing with this!" the gunman hollered.
"Is that a siren I hear?" Tindar asked me with a private wink.
"Now look!" the gunman wasn't amused.
"He doesn't look in bad shape," offered another of the more conciliatory thugs.
"Oh!" Syha gasped. She got up from her kneeling position beside the wounded man and started pacing around, a hand against her forehead.
"Syha?" I asked.
"Ripple," was all she said.
"Shit!" Tindar got it. She was having that odd disoriented feeling again. We were only guessing, but if this was an early warning of Time Warren movement, we needed to be gone already.
"Change in plans!" I barked, picking up the wounded man and steadying him with an arm over my shoulder.
"What's going on?" the gunman wanted to know.
Tindar came over and supported the wounded man from the other side. "Just like you said, we'll not take time to drop him off with anyone. He's coming with us."
"What?"
"We don't have time...to stop to drop him off, to explain...we have to go. Now!" Tindar shouted.
"Syha?"
"I'm mobile, but I'm still a little off."
The gunman put the weapon away. It clearly wasn't doing him a bit of good anyway. Instead he tried a new approach. "We're not going anywhere until you explain what's going on!"
It seemed kind of familiar.
"Okay," I said. We started walking away.
"Hey!"
"What?" Tindar hollered back over his shoulder.
"What about the treasure?" the former gunman asked in exasperation.
"Do you know what else is hunting for that treasure?" Syha asked him bluntly.
"Do you understand who asked you to steal it from the museum?" I added.
"Well, no. We never met them in person," he admitted.
"Me either," Tindar said in a low steady voice. "But what ever it is is marching down main street about half a step behind us right now. And I'm not ready to meet them just yet. So unless you're ready to face a potentially very scary unknown, I suggest you move NOW."
"How do you know?"
"Like I said, you'd be surprised how well Syha can take care of herself," Tindar said turning around and we shuffled off with our newest travel companion, if not our biggest fan in the direction of our camper. "NOW!" he hollered again over his shoulder.
Much to my surprise, they followed. With that simple switch, the hunters became the hunted. It sucks being at the bottom of the food chain.
What a cozy ride this was going to be!
