Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [159]
They laid Rosette’s body on the stone altar, the grey-haired woman giving further instructions. She pointed towards the entrance, moving with a grace that fascinated him, her long blue robe flowing behind her as she directed people this way and that. Her hair was swirled on top of her head, wisps escaping to give her an ethereal look. Grayson had introduced her as Annadusa, and he seemed to know her well. As Shane watched, she caught his eye, waving him to her. He gave Selene’s arm a quick squeeze. ‘I’ll see what she wants.’
He had to wait when he reached her. She and Grayson were directing a group of dark-robed students that clustered around, answering their questions in low, smooth voices.
‘But she’s dead,’ one woman said, ‘What do you mean you’re going to bring her back?’ She stared at the body still in its black shroud.
‘This isn’t a funeral, Maluka,’ Grayson said. ‘Rosette is here. We just need to get her back in there.’ He indicated the corpse and the young woman frowned.
‘The energy must be lifted,’ Annadusa said, her tone commanding everyone’s attention. ‘Think strong, happy, vital, enthusiastic thoughts. Fill the temple with them!’ She pulled the group in tighter. ‘Instruct everyone, face to face, row by row, to conjure their best memories, their most cherished dreams, their greatest talents and greatest loves. These are our gifts to Rosette. Anything that brings a spontaneous smile, that’s what we all need to dwell on. That’s what it will take to bring Rosette back.’
‘And Kreshkali?’ a woman in a green robe asked.
‘She’ll come. She has to. We need the High Priestess here as well.’ She clapped her hands and they dispersed, all but Shane. ‘Grayson tells me you’re a bard?’ She looked at his backpack. ‘You’re not far from your flutes, I trust?’ Her eyes were a dark brown with flecks of gold. Mesmerising.
‘Unfortunately, they were lost in a bit of trouble. I…’ He wanted to say more, but his mouth was dry, his hands sweating. He wiped them on his pants.
‘There are plenty of instruments around.’ She waved at a young man by the door, miming a flute. He ducked out. ‘There are more on the way. Will you start some tunes? Others are setting up, but you were with her last. Your music will be more familiar.’
‘I’ve a few she liked. Would there be a low whistle?’ The man returned, handing him an instrument bag. He tested several and took the low whistle. ‘Perfect, thank you.’ Standing next to her body, he faced the temple hall, which was swelling to capacity as more and more people filed in. His stomach heaved and he looked down, the corner of the body bag in sharp focus. He swallowed. This was for Rosette. Happy thoughts. Joyful reunion, he reminded himself.
He took a deep breath and lifted his whistle to his mouth. He started with a haunting tune, one that he wrote on Tensar while waiting for Rosette to appear, over and over again, as they were caught in that strange loop.
Happy thoughts! He cringed at his own reprimand. This was going to be tricky. The time loop, the strange way they met, seemed so long ago now. Maybe it was. That’s a little better. They certainly had some excitement on their journey, like when they escaped from the Treeon Temple guards and he learned how to ride. The exotic experience of Temple Dumarka and all those beautiful priestesses. That felt better too.
The tune was perfect, enchanting in its reverence, and he could feel it binding people’s hearts together as they began to meditate, pouring out thoughts of love, peace, happiness, appreciation and joy. Other bards joined him with guitars, ouds, mandolins, sitars and flutes. They surrounded the altar, some standing behind Rosette’s body, some sitting on the steps in front. A group of women with percussion instruments