Dancing Days by Val St. Crowe
* * *
That evening, Nora was lying in her hammock, trying to keep Catling from wandering over to her favorite meowing corner, when Sawyer came into her tent.
She sat up in her hammock. “What are you doing in here?”
“Nice to see you too,” said Sawyer. “You’ve been Nora-No-Show for over a month now. Is it me? Have I developed grossly offensive body odor?”
“It’s nothing. I’d rather be alone is all.”
“It’s Maddie, then,” said Sawyer. “It’s because she keeps telling you that you should try to patch things up with Owen.”
“Well, that is a really stupid idea,” said Nora.
“Agreed,” said Sawyer. “But I think she’s only saying it because she’s worried about you. And she’s not wrong. You have been weird ever since you stopped seeing him.”
“Did you come in here to tell me to give Owen another chance?” Nora folded her arms over her chest.
“Perish the thought,” said Sawyer. “I never liked him. You know I never liked him. I still don’t like him. But if you don’t like him either, Nora, why are you still sulking all the time? It’s been six months. I know you’ve known the guy your whole life, but what gives with the constant angst here?”
“I don’t know,” said Nora, feeling like she might cry again. “Something is wrong with me. I’m broken.”
Sawyer sighed. “Still with the not creating, huh?”
Nora nodded.
“Maybe it’s like a mental block or something,” Sawyer said. “Maybe you’re focusing so hard on it that you’re jinxing yourself.”
Nora’s nostrils flared. “If you tell me I need to relax and it will all go away one more time, I’m going to sneak into your tent and sew all your skirts into pants.”
Sawyer held up his hands in surrender. “No need to get extreme.”
Nora sighed. “So did you come in here to give me another pep talk?”
“I came in to ask you what you’re going to be for Halloween.”
“I’m not going,” said Nora. “I’m going to stay in my tent. I don’t feel like a party.”
“Not going?” Sawyer held up a finger. “Not acceptable, Nora. The Halloween party is my favorite party in Helicon. My absolute favorite. There’s alcoholic cider and a haunted house and everyone will be wearing the most amazing costumes you’ve ever seen. It’s hands-down the best night of the year. So, you’re going, and that’s the end of it.”
“You said you skipped out last year to go to the mundane world,” said Nora.
“I don’t think I said that exactly,” said Sawyer. “I definitely did not skip out. I worked very hard on my Cleopatra costume last year. I made sure everyone saw me in it before I went to the mundane world.”
“I don’t have a costume.”
“That’s why I’m here to help.”
“Sawyer, I don’t want to go.”
“Too bad,” he said. “Now, either tell me what you want to dress up as in five seconds, or I will decide for you. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
Nora glared at him.
Sawyer shrugged. “Okay, wood nymph it is. Now, get off your behind, because we’ve got to go hunting in the woods for leaves for your crown.”
And that was how Nora found herself traipsing through the woods outside the tweens and rebels enclave with Sawyer. He was pretty picky about the leaves he wanted to use. He kept holding out branches, scrutinizing the leaves, and saying, “Not quite right. Let’s go in deeper.”
After about a half hour of this, they were quite a ways beyond the enclave. Sawyer sampled another branch. “What do you think about this?”
Nora shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Come on. I know I dragged you out here, and you’re not exactly ecstatic about going to the Halloween party, but you don’t have to be like that about it.”
“You don’t understand,” said Nora. “I’m not saying that to be annoying. I really don’t know. I’ve lost all my senses for this kind of stuff. I can’t create. I can’t tell what looks good. It’s like all my muse powers have completely drained away.”
Sawyer sighed as if she was being melodramatic. “Well, I think these leaves are good.” He pulled the branch away and began twisting it to remove it.
But now the area behind the branch was visible. Nora stepped forward, squinting. “Is that a tent?”
“Where?”
She pointed.
“Huh,” said Sawyer. “That’s weird. Who would have a tent all the way out here?”
“Maybe it’s abandoned,” said Nora.
“No, that cook fire is still smoking,” said Sawyer.
At that moment, a wizened old man, bent double, toddled out from behind the tent. He was wearing tattered patchwork. He had long white hair and a long white beard. He looked up at them. “What do you two want leaves for?”
Sawyer looked uncomfortable. “Um, is it a problem? Because if we’re bothering you, we can go somewhere else.”
“I’m not bothered,” said the old man. “Don’t see a lot of people these days though. Which is good. I came out here for peace and quiet.” He pointed at Nora. “You said something about losing powers, didn’t you? That makes me think of the gods.” He stopped and looked up at the sky. Then he looked back at them. “Well, did you bring any marmalade?”
Sawyer glanced sidelong at Nora. “He’s crazy,” he whispered.
“I heard that,” said the old man. “I’m not crazy. I’m old. You muse kids never see old people, and you act like idiots when you do. Someone should teach you manners. They surely should.”
“We’re sorry,” said Nora. “I guess we’ll be going then.”
“That’s a no to the marmalade, I suppose,” said the old man. “Of all the things I miss, I miss marmalade the most.”
Sawyer stepped forward. “Wait, I recognize you. You’re a muse. You used to live in the story enclave, didn’t you?”
“Indeed,” said the old man. “They call me Ned Willow. I came out here years ago. Couldn’t handle all the noise. No one ever goes to sleep at a decent hour in Helicon. Drums all through the night. Dancing. It’s ludicrous.”
Nora smiled, and she could see that Sawyer was smiling as well. “I suppose it’s much quieter out here.”
“We were actually looking for you a while ago,” said Sawyer. “You told a story once about the gods, and I heard it when I was a kid. I tried to find you so that you could tell it to Nora.”
“A story about the gods,” said Ned. “Oh, that was what I was talking about before. This one said something about losing powers. That made me think of the gods losing powers. And it’s not a story, boy.” He drew back for a moment. “You are a boy, aren’t you?”
“Mostly,” said Sawyer.
“Just like to wear skirts, then?” asked Ned. “Like a healthy breeze around your balls?”
Nora snickered into her hand.
“That’s part of it,” Sawyer said, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Well, anyway, it’s not a story. At least, it’s not just a story. It’s true. It all happened. I remember it like it was yesterday. Would you like to hear it?”
“Um,” said Nora, who did want to hear the story, but wasn’t sure if Sawyer was keen on gathering leaves.
“I guess you might be busy with whatever it is you’re doing,” said Ned. “Still, it’s a bit of a pity. I don’t miss the noise, but I would like some company now and then, I would.”
“We definitely want to hear the story,” said Sawyer.
“Excellent,” said Ned. “Into the tent, then.”
Ned’s tent was set up like some kind of Persian palace. It was covered in rugs and pillows. In the center there was a raised dais, complete with an ornate chair carved of wood. Ned settled into this chair and motioned for Sawyer and Nora to settle onto the pillows in front of him. “I haven’t told a story in quite some time,” said Ned. “At least not to actual people, that is. This will be fun.” He rubbed his hands tog
“Many hundreds of years ago, Helicon was a mountain top in Greece, and the gods often rode the Pegasus from Mt. Olympus to frolic and rejoice with the muses. Helicon was a place of respite for them, away from the cares and responsibilities of ruling the earth, nature, and mankind. It was a place in which they could be carefree and happy.
“The muses welcomed the gods, especially Dionysus who brought wine and joy when he arrived. One young muse in particular was quite taken with Dionysus, and her name was Phoebe Rain.”
Nora must have made some kind of noise of recognition, because Ned said, “Oh, yes, Phoebe was quite young once. She was not always the wise head of the council she is today. Phoebe is still the head of the council, isn’t she?”
Sawyer and Nora nodded.
“Well, the young Phoebe was a beauty, with flawless dark skin and raven hair. She had the voice of a nightingale, and when Dionysus came to Helicon, he would lie at her feet, listening to her sing for hours on end. Of course, Dionysus is never one to be content with mere singing from a woman, and so he began to pursue her, because he wanted her as his lover.
“Phoebe was quite a young woman, and she was not yet wise in the ways of men, or in the ways of gods, and she thought that Dionysus’ affection for her was something special. She did not realize that Dionysus was a man who’d had many lovers, and thought little of them once he tired of them. Phoebe thought that she and Dionysus shared a love that was profound and timeless, and she was devoted to him.
“It so happened that the mundane world was seized in the throes of change at this time. The empire of Rome, upon which the gods had lavished their support and attention, was besieged by invaders and barbarians, who sought to tear down the beacon of civilization, to destroy it. The gods did their best to funnel their powers into the Roman empire, to bolster it in their time of need. But it seemed that the powers of the gods were waning, and there was much confusion and dismay amongst their number.
“The mountain tops of Olympus and Helicon broke away from the mundane world at that time. They were no longer physical features in the world. This distanced the gods and the muses from the humans even further. It seemed that everything was crashing down.
“The gods came to Helicon and they spoke to the council of muses, begging to be loaned the muses’ energy. For, as you know, the muses create energy as inspiration threads, which they send to the mundane world. The gods argued that the muses would do better to send this energy directly to them so that they could help the humans themselves. Zeus himself said that in a time of great war and upheaval, the humans did not need inspiration for creativity as much as they needed to save their own lives.
“The muse council was hesitant. They deliberated for a long time, and there was an argument of great magnitude in Helicon, with some muses siding with the gods, and other muses claiming their responsibility was to the humans, not the gods. It was Phoebe, the young muse in love with Dionysus, who managed to convince them all that the gods were right. She gave a speech to the gathered muses, painting a picture of a world without gods, a war torn world of barbarians struggling over land, raping and killing one another. A dark world. She said that they would have no humans to inspire if they did not help the gods.
“And so the council voted to do so. And for quite some time, they funneled all of their energy into the gods, trying to make them as powerful as they possibly could. The gods labored in vain to help Rome. They did all that they could. But even with the power of the muses, they were not powerful enough to help them, because the barbarians were fueled by a great power the gods had once wielded themselves: the Influence.
“The Influence had abandoned the gods, choosing to put its resources behind things that had more power. And as the gods squandered the powers of the muses in attempts to bind Rome together, the Influence grew stronger.
“The gods grew weaker. Dionysus appeared in Helicon to visit his lover Phoebe and told her it was more and more difficult for the gods to cross the boundaries to the world of the muses. They were fading away. Phoebe, terrified she would lose Dionysus forever, worked a strong bit of magic, binding Dionysus to Helicon through her own muse powers. In this way, he could come and go as he pleased. And through Phoebe, he had access to Helicon’s power. Phoebe hoped he could funnel this power to the other gods, and that they would win.
“But it didn’t work. Dionysus survived, but we have not seen the other gods in Helicon in quite some time. And the mundane world was not helped by the gods’ interference. Instead, the Influence ruled the mundane world for hundreds of years. Its power created strong armies that scuffled over lands, strong institutions that ruled over the people, and strong societal rules that discouraged creativity. For hundreds of years, the world was a dark place, barely penetrated by creativity.
“For the muses had been weakened as well. They had funneled so much power into the gods, all the energy they had. And even after the gods were no longer with them, they could only send small bits of inspiration into the mundane world. For the humans, this period was known as the Dark Ages.
“But when the muses finally regained their power and began to send inspiration threads back into the world, the humans began to wake up. The light of inspiration filled the world, and it was reborn as a place where individuals could make their own way. There was an explosion of art, music, painting, and writing. The Renaissance.
“Phoebe knew what a dangerous change she had wrought on the world, and she knew the dangers of using muse power for anything other than what it was intended. She vowed that if she became the head of the muse council, she would make it her life’s work to make sure that the muses never used their energy for anything other than inspiration. And so, until this day, the muses have created and inspired, and the mundane world has become a very bright place indeed.” Ned smiled. “The end.”