Read SummerDanse for Free Online Page A

better things ahead.
    We traveled on until almost nightfall. Anazian led the horses onto a grassy verge, then set the brakes, took a waterskin, and started to walk away. His feet shuffled now, as if he were tired, and he stumbled over a raised tree root. Odd, I thought. Surely if he were that tired, he could’ve driven the horses instead of walking with them.
    When he came back, he shoved the waterskin, dripping but full, through the bars of my cage. “Drink your fill,” he said, his voice drained of all vitality. I did, watching him as he unhitched the horses and hobbled them, allowing them to graze freely.
    Then, finally, he released me from the cage. For the next half hour, I did most of the work setting up camp: gathering firewood, unloading a few of the bundles, and cooking the evening meal. With that, at least, Anazian was generous; at any rate, he let me eat my fill. When we were done, I, of course, had to do the washing up, too. The whole time, Anazian did little more than direct me as he sat very close to the fire. That seemed strange, for I wasn’t cold despite wearing only a thin shift, while he, dressed in buckskin and boots, sat shivering occasionally.
    Once all the work was done, he finally stirred himself. Full dark had settled by now. He opened one of the bundles he’d had me unload from the wagon and rummaged in it. I caught my breath in surprise when he took out meditation candles and holders. Surely he wasn’t going to let me meditate, was he?
    No, of course not. He, too, was a mage, so naturally it was part of his own routine to meditate. He’d studied, many years ago, with Yallick—been his apprentice, even. And he’d become a master. His being a traitor didn’t change any of that.
    “I need to ...” He didn’t finish the sentence. His voice still sounded tired, as if he hadn’t been strengthened at all by the food. He pushed himself to his feet and walked to a nearby tree, from which drooped a tangle of vines. Speaking in a quiet voice, he tore away some of the vines, then came back to the fire.
    “Put out your hands,” he said. “I can’t be having you loose while I can’t attend to you.”
    Grateful that he wasn’t making me get back into the cage, I did exactly as he wished. And tried not to despise myself for my compliance.
    He used the length of vine to tie my wrists together in a complicated and very secure way.
    “There. If you cause me any trouble tonight, next time I’ll tie them behind you. And leave you in the cage, too.”
    I had no doubt he meant it, but his words had little force behind them. He picked up the candles and disappeared into the trees again.
    I sat for awhile, simply staring into the fire. The faces of my friends seemed to dance in the flames.
    Traz, who’d helped me save my brother and who wanted to be a mage, only to find when we were on Stychs that he had a powerful magic unknown in our world: the danse.
    Yallick, the master mage to whom I’d apprenticed myself. He often seemed grim and unhappy, but I’d come to realize that he really did care for me and wanted most of all for me to grow strong in my maejic.
    Oleeda, another master mage. She was kind and understanding, though sometimes hard to predict. At any rate, she was less a cipher than Yallick was.
    Breyard, my older brother, whom, ironically, I always seemed to be looking after. He was a prankster and practical joker, but he, too, had maejic power. And something had happened to him during his own time on Stychs that had settled him down a little, made him more steady. I hadn’t yet learned what that was.
    Mama and Papa. They were exactly what parents should be: bossy and annoying and full of love and unexpected kindness. Papa, I’d figured out recently, was maejic, too, although he’d hidden this fact all our lives. Why? And why had dragonmasters kidnapped him and Mama?
    Grey. I tried to steer my thoughts away from him, but the memory of my last sight of him repeated itself over and over,