Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Author Quest (13 page)

Esther Palmer

Music of the Shards

The Gelfling

A single antari tree had no chance of survival. Thin and shallow rooted, they would have been pushed over by a strong wind, or harsh rain. But antari trees never grew alone. Living in forests of thousands, each antari stretched its branches, intertwining with its kindred in a complicated web of near-unbreakable strength. Antari canopies supported, protected, and fed countless species. Legend said that without the thin and seemingly insignificant antari, Thra—a world of great proportions—would surely collapse.

Under the antaris' protective canopy, a small and nervous widget stood on its thin hind legs, brushing the morning dew from its whiskers. Its ears, easily twice the length of its head, twitched in all directions. The widget was an overly cautious creature; being both small and the preferred snack of most everything, it stood ready to skitter back into the hard, shell-like petals it called home. Although its fur was the same color as the large flower in which it lived, it could not hide from the owner of the light green eyes, nearly the color of sun on new leaves, that watched from the webbed branches above. Cautiously, the widget darted from its shelter to search for soft antari nuts that had dropped during the night. Then down from the trees something swooped with wings outspread to muffle its descent. The widget offered only a surprised squeak as it was scooped off the ground.

“You really must pay more attention if you expect to make it through breakfast,” a gentle voice scolded the small creature. Much relieved, the widget buried its fuzzy little face joyfully into the crook of the speaker's arm.

Usha let out a light, musical laugh as she landed, folding her wings back under her cloak. Taking the creature in both hands, she lifted it to her face. The widget touched his cold nose affectionately to the young Gelfling maiden's cheek. This was a typical game between Usha and the forest creatures. Most of the good creatures, and many of the plants, knew her by sight . . . when they could spot her. Born into the Vapra clan, Usha had inherited the uncanny ability to hide. She was better than most and could disappear into any scenery. Ever since her first naming day, Usha's favorite game was sneaking up on the forest creatures and catching them by surprise.

Placing the widget on her shoulder, she let the creature burrow into her long hair, which was lighter than the sunbeams that dappled the forest floor. With a sigh, Usha confessed, “Grandmother says I'm too old to spend my days playing games and running wild. Soon, I will have to take my rightful place.”

The widget gave a squeak. Usha nodded in understanding. She responded, “My rightful place as her apprentice, I suppose. Though I am sure Grandmother has many trine left before she rests under Thra.”

Usha knew the forest well, and she moved swiftly through the maze of white branches. Her movements were nimble; she used her wings for balance and agility as she had seen the animals of the forest use their tails. Because her wings were far larger and thicker than those of the other girls in her village—who used them mostly for hovering or parachuting——Usha exposed them only while alone on her rambles. Wings like hers were so embarrassing and quite out of fashion.

She especially liked to roam the land surrounding the village, where she could be alone with the animals and plants. Usha never wandered too far. She knew better. Stories of the soul stealers, and dark tales of the Hunter, ensured that she never strayed beyond the plateaus of the west or the flatlands to the south.

Usha emerged from the antari forest and into the bright morning sun atop the high rocky cliff. Walking out to the very edge of the large boulder overhanging the cliff, she looked down at her village stretched out in neat concentric circles below. It was the largest of the Vapra clan villages—a spot chosen for them especially by the Lords of the Dark Crystal themselves, long before Usha was born. The Greater Sun already shone brightly above it as the Rose Sun's light began to melt down through the streets, turning the huts and tent canvases a pale pink. If Usha didn't get back to Grandmother before the Dying Sun—the last of the three suns—rose and added its purple light to the sky, then she would be in for more than a long lecture—probably extra duty at the kilns, stoking the hot fires that never burned down. Grandmother made pots and vessels of all kinds, and dried all her own herbs. A special pot was made for each herb. Grandmother was good. The Ranee, queen over all Gelfling tribes, bought her herbs from Grandmother. Even the Skeksis, Lords of the Dark Crystal, had a pot or two.

More than any other day, today was a special day, and Grandmother had told her not to be late. Talking to the little widget, Usha said, “If you want to stay on my shoulder and get some bixa seeds as a reward when we get to the hut, you are welcome to come with me. But we'll have to take the fast way down. I am later than I thought.”

With a frightened little squeak, the widget moved quickly back down to the ground. Even sweet bixa seeds were not enough to make the “fast way” appealing. With a laugh and a nod, Usha left the little creature where he was, and with one swift movement she unfurled her wings and jumped over the side of the long boulder. Her wings expertly billowed out at her sides as she caught the breeze, and with very few flaps, she glided gently down to the ground. Nearly late, she took to the ground running, finding the familiar path home.

Usha was proud of her home; it was unlike any other dwelling in Thra. But today, the village looked even more wonderful than ever! Every tent decorated with flowers and every street already filling with music. Today was the Celebration of Thra, and many from the seven Gelfling clans had gathered for this yearly festival. Usha could feel the excitement as she ran through the village streets, the colors and smells of the flowers filling her senses. Friendly voices hailed her as she passed, but she stopped for none until she heard the familiar taunt, “You look like a spindly-legged fluttery when you run!”

Usha slowed her steps to a walk, calling back, “And you move like a big, fat mounder, Flyn!”

“Better to move like one than to think like one,” Flyn replied with a laugh, trotting up to her side and matching her pace. Flyn had the dark hair, tanned skin, and dark eyes typical of the Orneth clan, as well as the typical overconfident attitude. “I knew I would find you on the road this morning.”

“It's where I am most mornings, Flyn,” Usha replied with a smile. “As my dearest friend, I would hope you know that well.”

“I know many things about you, Usha,” Flyn stated, glancing sideways at his companion. “I just came from the village center. You will not believe the difference. There are so many new tents and booths displaying all kinds of new things. I heard skekEkt, the Lord of Ornaments from the castle, is actually coming to the festival today.”

Usha's eyes sparkled with excitement. She would have dearly loved to explore the new decorations with Flyn, but Grandmother was expecting her. The village center would have to wait. They made their way to the last house in the village, which jutted off from the widest circle, and arrived at Grandmother's hut. The large, round-roofed hut of reeds and skins was painted with the murals of generations, proclaiming to all that within dwelt a potter and herbalist. Smoke from the kilns billowed from the back, and the smell of drying herbs wafted through the air. Flyn held the hut's flap open for Usha as they entered. Grandmother's hut was enough for a large Gelfling family. Most of the space was filled with tables displaying pots, bottles, herbs, and all manner of wares for sale, as well as the clay and turntable workstations. Closing the flap behind him, Flyn declared proudly, “I have brought our Usha home safe and on time.”

Emerging from a back room, Grandmother entered holding a stack of red bowls painted with white symbols. Though slightly bent with age, with braided hair long since changed from silver to white, her eyes were bright and intelligent. She clucked her tongue when she saw Flyn. With a smile, she observed, “I suspect our Usha would have made it safe and on time even without your care, young bounder, for she is a good, kind, and obedient girl. However, now that
you
are here, you can be of use. Mother Tama needs those herbs there for her cakes for market. Would you be so kind as to deliver them for me?”

“With pleasure, Grandmother,” Flyn replied with a deep and formal bow. He scooped up the herbs, secured Usha's promise to attend the bonfires that night, and then was quickly out the door—no doubt spurred on by the hope of a taste of those famous cakes.

After he had gone, Grandmother commented to the closed flap, “A good lad, and one that is eager to prove himself.”

“He has always been a good friend,” Usha stated, already studiously at work preparing the tables for customers. “You and he are like family to me, since I have none of my own.”

Grandmother gave her ward a shrewd look, but she saw nothing in the girl's face but innocent friendship. Satisfied, she said, “If you do your work swiftly, I will allow you time to wander the stalls at lunch, if you wish, and a few skekels to spend as you wish.”

“Grandmother!” Usha exclaimed in surprised joy. She did not often have much extra to spend on her heart's desires. This would surely be a great day. Twisting her long, slender fingers as she often did when nervous, Usha ventured to ask, “May I get some wing ornaments or paints today?”

Grandmother's face turned stern as she replied, “You know how I feel about such vanity. The way girls paint and pierce their wings these days, and render them almost unusable.” Then added in a whisper Usha did not hear,
“Which might just be the point.”

“But even the Ranee paints her wings, though it is a subtle pattern,” Usha pointed out.

“Do as you wish,” Grandmother said, relenting, “but I would prefer you spent it on more useful things, like a new string for your harp, or an ocarina.”

Usha sighed and turned back to her work. There was much to do before the festival began. They could not allow the kiln flames to go out, for there were always pots and other vessels hardening. The heat made Usha's skin itch and her eyes sting, but she never complained. Such magnificent things came out of those ovens, and Grandmother had even allowed her to set up a table just to display her own creations—lamps with herbs baked right in to the patterns so they smelled wonderful when warmed. Everything was set, polished, and trimmed in good order, the work made even lighter with the promise of happiness to come.

The Council

Usha itched to be at the festival. Without complaint, she had helped Grandmother run the sale tables from the shade and cool of the hut. Gelfling from nearly each of the seven clans had walked through the flap to browse Grandmother's goods. She was sure there had never been so many at the festival before. When Usha had questioned why Grandmother hadn't set up a booth in the market itself, she simply replied, “If what I have is what they want, then they will find me.”

It certainly seemed true. Many had come to Grandmother's hut, most to buy, some merely to escape the heat of the day, and not only Gelfling. The Podlings had come; Usha could hear their music filling the streets outside with joyful noise, though she didn't understand their language. A new face in the hut had surprised her greatly. He looked like a Podling, short and round with small eyes and a wide face, but his skin and hair were gray and chalky, and his eyes were pale and distant. He moved in a trancelike manner, as if his actions were not his own. Grandmother dealt with him swiftly and warily, and then watched with a concerned expression as he left with his herbs. All she said to Usha's questions was that the creature had come from the Castle of the Crystal. Perhaps that meant the Skeksis really would come to the celebrations.

A large commotion outside brought Usha to the hut's door. Walking up the street, with much ceremony, was the Ranee's own caravan! The tall Landstriders towered over Gelfling heads, over the roofs of booth and hut. The queen's guards rode beside her on lean, pink male striders, looking serious but friendly. The Ranee herself sat atop a rare white strider, a female with long, soft whiskers. When the caravan looked to be stopping at the hut, Usha retreated quickly to her place at the table and waited expectantly.

The Ranee entered the hut with a regal smile. She was beautiful, with her light hair woven into spirals all about her face. She was queen of all Gelfling, but the Vapra looked at her as their pride, for she was of their clan. The other Gelfling in the tent bowed respectfully, and she addressed many of them kindly by name. She moved lightly through the tent, scanning the tables of wares, her gossamer wings drifting behind her, nearly transparent at points and decorated only with pale paints depicting ancient Gelfling runes proclaiming her ancestry. Usha felt privileged to be able to read them, but the sight of the Ranee's perfectly diaphanous wings only reminded her of her own woefully stout ones, and she made sure to keep them tucked away under her cloak.

Grandmother approached the Ranee with arms outstretched in joyful greeting, and they embraced. Grandmother exclaimed, “It is good of you to grace my humble home, Ranee.”

The Ranee smiled and declared, “You are my oldest friend, and the best potter and herbalist on Thra. I do not get here as often as I would wish.”

“You are always welcome,” Grandmother assured her. “And the weight of rule sits heavy on any shoulder.”

The Ranee nodded, but turned her eyes to Usha and the young Gelfling blushed. The Ranee asked, “And how are you getting along with your apprentice? I hope she is obedient and studies well.”

The penetrating look she gave Usha then made her feel as though the Ranee was looking directly into her heart. Usha did not know why the queen took such an interest in her—perhaps it had to do with her friendship with Grandmother—but she instantly wanted to prove to the Ranee that she was not a disappointment.

“She is kind, obedient, and constant in her studies,” Grandmother reported. “I could not be more pleased. She will soon know more about Thra than I do.”

Usha blushed even deeper. That was surely an exaggeration. She was sure she would never measure up to Grandmother's greatness. She was just a simple Gelfling maiden. Fishing in her pocket, Grandmother brought forth a few of the small colored stone coins used among the Gelfling and handed them to Usha, saying, “I believe the triple suns are high in the sky. Time for you to explore the celebrations on your own. Enjoy.”

Usha took the coins happily and, after a very proper curtsy to the Ranee, she was out the hut and into the streets, ready to take all the joy she could from the day. The Celebration of Thra was a day to honor nature, to give thanks for the world. The only question on Usha's mind was where to begin. Should she start with the flower dances near the fields, or wander over to the village center and look at the market stalls? Perhaps she could grab her harp and join the music makers celebrating the joy of the moment.

“Usha!” a young Gelfling maiden with golden hair and large brown eyes exclaimed, running over and embracing her friend happily. Turning and fluttering her wings experimentally, she asked, “Do you like? I just got them.”

The maiden's wings caught the light and glittered with small silver bells dangling from the edges, they made soft music every time she moved. Smiling at her friend's joy, Usha exclaimed, “They're wonderful, Kirsi! Now you'll have music everywhere you go.”

“Well, if I can't play as well as you, I might as well make what music I can,” Kirsi stated with a wink.

“At least now she'll never be able to sneak up on anyone ever again,” a voice called out from the crowd.

The girls turned to find a fair-haired boy walking toward them with a mischievous grin. He was tall for a Gelfling, and handsome. He used that to his advantage. Kirsi fluttered her eyes at him but replied sternly, “You are only mad because I beat you at the Grift Sticks game, Akil,
and
you're jealous because boys don't have wings.”

Kirsi might have spoken harshly, but Usha knew that she liked Akil very much and would not have minded in the least if he asked her to the bonfire that night. He shook his head and replied with a wink, “I think I've found me a nice pair of wings already.”

Kirsi blushed. She pulled Usha away in a hurry and declared, “Well, I'm taking Usha to the ornaments booth. Follow us if you dare.”

Akil did not follow, but he certainly watched them as they went. The village center was dazzling, with many new and interesting things, but there was one spot in particular that held the biggest crowd. Standing among large tables brought especially from the castle, stood skekEkt himself! He was the Skeksis's Lord of Ornaments, and he certainly looked the part. Easily twice the height of a Gelfling, he towered over the gathered crowd, looking down at them with his thin beak curved into a smile. He looked like a bird with no feathers, unless you counted his clothes. His robe was light green and hung with all manner of jewels and trinkets that sparkled and rattled as he moved.

With all four arms, he gestured to the magnificent objects on his tables as he called cajolingly to the Gelfling, “Come and see the wonders I have made just for Gelfling.”

A few of the pale gray creatures stood obediently by the tables, unmoving unless given a specific order. Kirsi made her way to the front of the crowd and Usha followed. Despite the smiles, Usha was a little overwhelmed by skekEkt's looming figure. Kirsi seemed to have no such reluctance. Eagerly she showed Usha the bells she had bought. There were so many amazing things on the tables, but one particular jar caught her eye—paint. Not just any paint, but paint guaranteed to sparkle and shine, even in the dark. Usha longed to have it.

“Ah,” announced a pleased voice above her. Usha looked up to see skekEkt looking directly at her with his black, shining eyes. He said, “I see my special paint has caught your eye. Excellent choice. Not only will it shine, but it is guaranteed to make any wing look as light and delicate as a spider's web.”

At a signal from his clawlike hand, one of the pale creatures came forward and blankly offered Usha a jar. She almost took it, but then she remembered Grandmother's words to the queen . . . was she truly good and obedient? Usha wanted so much to do the right thing and make Grandmother proud of her. With some little regret, Usha declined the pot, shaking her head sadly. SkekEkt did not seem pleased, but through his ever-present smile, he urged her, “You will come back. I've all kinds of pretty things, just for Gelfling.”

Pulling Kirsi away, Usha left the Skeksis tables with a small sigh of relief. It felt good to get away from the crowd. Turning her attention to the Gelfling-made-craft tents, Usha browsed the musical instruments. Happily, she spent most of the coins Grandmother had given her on a new instrument, a beautifully carved gemshorn—made from the hollowed-out tip of a mounder horn, painted and carved with her favorite blue flower. Eager to show Grandmother her new purchase, Usha skipped off, promising to meet Kirsi at the dances later.

After rushing through the winding, circular streets, Usha came to the hut door and was surprised to find it closed. Untying the flap and heading in, she could see the front room was deserted, though pots and herbs still rested on the tables. Concerned, she moved to the back room. No one. Peeking into both her and Grandmother's room, she found no one. Walking out to the kilns, she heard movement coming from the tent behind them. Normally they used the tent for storage, but it was now almost empty because of the festival. Now, creeping up to a small hole used for ventilation, Usha peeked inside.

She saw the shelves were gone, and scented candles now lined the floor. In the dirt were drawn circles of ancient Gelfling runes and symbols. Sitting around the outer circle were six Gelfling, including Grandmother and the Ranee. They each held hands, their eyes closed. Dreamfasting—sharing greetings and memories among each other. It was a common practice to begin a gathering of the Gelfling Council. It was impossible to lie while dreamfasting; everyone would know your thoughts and concerns. Soon, they each lowered their hands and opened their eyes.

Her curiosity overcoming her reluctance to eavesdrop, Usha listened closely as the Ranee began the meeting by stating, “We are Gathered here as Council of the Clans. I have heard your concerns. I asked for this meeting to remain secret as there are serious matters to discuss, but I do not wish our words to spread to the others and cause them undue worry, at least not yet. As queen and Council, we should be able to resolve this among ourselves.”

“I see neither the Grottan nor the Dousan clans have bothered to come to Council,” grumbled Valda, the Spriton clan chief. Her close-cropped hair and tattoos made her look just as gruff as she sounded.

“We may be able to take that as a good sign,” Grandmother suggested. “If they feel no concerns heavy enough to bring them from their seclusions, then there are no immediate dangers.”

“Or so think they,” Valda muttered, but she did not pursue it.

“There is a growing concern of the number of Gelfling who have gone missing of late,” the Ranee declared, bringing all to order.

“Two whole families have disappeared from the farms,” Grandmother stated sadly.

“We have lost scouts on three occasions,” the Valda added.

“And we have lost sailors,” agreed the Gelfling with the red bandana tied in her hair, hoops in her ears, and a long-tailed coat—certainly Koa, the Sifa clan chief.

A short, squat, hairy Gelfling with brown clothes mottled in dried mud admitted, “We are missing friends as well.”

“Are you sure you just didn't misplace them in the swamp,” Valda said mockingly, “or mistake them for a pile of rotting lizards? I have made that mistake myself with the Drenchen.”

The squat Gelfling—Nipa, the Drenchen clan chief—looked as if she was about to explode with anger, which didn't help her complexion. The Ranee intervened, calming all with her voice, “We must not fight amongst ourselves. Now is a time to
help
each other. Dani, chief of the Orneth clan, what have you to report?”

Somewhat reluctantly, the tall, dark-haired Gelfling with the grim look admitted, “There are those whom we have sent over the wastes to the Castle of the Crystal who have never been seen again. The Emperor assures us he is doing all he can to find them, or information on their fate. He knows that Orneth are invaluable guards at the castle.”

“More like convenient toadies,” Valda muttered.

“We guard the castle and our friends the Skeksis faithfully and with courage!” Dani declared with pride, her eyes flashing with warning.

Valda was about to retort, when the Ranee interjected, “And what of those gray creatures that have been coming from the castle?”

“I had audience with the Chamberlain himself,” Dani answered, turning back to her queen. “He assures me that those creatures have not real life. They are a creation of skekTek the Scientist, just like the Garthist they use for mining. The Skeksis call them Slaves, and they are under the direction of skekNa. These Slaves only
look
like Podlings—they were modeled after them.”

“There is something about them that does not sit right in my bones,” Grandmother confessed with a shudder. “They are empty.”

“But what of the missing Gelfling?” Koa insisted.

“We're under attack,” Valda declared.

“By whom?” Dani scoffed. “Soul stealers? The Hunter?”

“You cannot believe in such bogymen,” Koa laughed.

“They are not myth,” Grandmother insisted, and everyone quieted. They had long learned to trust Grandmother in such things. She
saw
things. “There are creatures in the wilds that have turned evil, poisoned by something dark. Changes are happening all around us.”

“There has been a gathering darkness growing all through Thra,” the Ranee agreed.

“Like the sea, life always changes,” Koa pointed out. “There have always been changes, and we are happy.”

“We should demand an answer from the castle!” Valda advised. “I say it all stems from there. We should fight.”

“There is nothing to fight,” Dani stated heatedly. “The Skeksis have been nothing but kind to the Orneth clan. Perhaps if the Spriton were not so eager to offend, you would see that they only wish to help.”

“What do we really know about their plans?” Grandmother asked the room, hesitantly but with concern.