Yuguro never returned from under the mountain. Although his body lived in the house of healing deep inside the king’s castle, his mind remained always behind in the Darkness. He woke at daybreak and ate what was put before him, and at night he slept. But though his eyes were open, they were empty. Words, which he had once manipulated so skillfully, never passed his lips. Perhaps one day someone would meet his soul in the ceremony chamber. Whether or not he ever found peace would rest in the hands of the Dancer.
Balsa told young King Radalle what his father, Rogsam, had plotted. But she did not ask him to tell his people. She had already told Jiguro’s story to everyone who needed to know it, and she saw no point in stirring up trouble or ousting the young king from his throne when there was no outstanding leader to replace him. Although timid, he still retained some purity and innocence, and it made more sense to slip this secret into his heart so that he would ponder its meaning. Having seen the depths of the Darkness, he might just be a better ruler than any of his kin.
The whole country rejoiced at the gift of luisha. Those who had shared Yuguro’s dream of invading the Mountain Deep relegated it to the past and behaved as if the plan had never been conceived; only a handful of men knew what had really happened under the mountain, and they would keep that knowledge engraved in their hearts forever. Back under the mountain, when the Herders had finished their sacred hymn, they made the warriors vow to keep silent, and the warriors had agreed, knowing that words could never adequately describe what they had just seen or experienced. If they tried to explain the impossible, the truth would be subtly twisted and changed; it was far better to remain silent and to convince the people that there was a mysterious, indescribable Darkness in this world.
The men would never forget what they had felt when the blue light of the hyohlu had caressed them. In that instant, they had known without a doubt that the Guardians of the Darkness were the souls of their own fathers, brothers, and uncles who had departed from this world long before. They also saw that the hyohlu were not the servants of the Mountain King, but the very conscience of Kanbal. They guarded the Yusa mountains, the mother range that conferred and supported life; and when the warriors who had witnessed the ceremony departed this life, they too would become hyohlu and pass on to their descendants the Darkness and the blue light. Knowing that there existed an invisible, intangible world and a spirit who held up the Yusa range, they would become the Last Door protecting that spirit, and thus they would guard the life of Kanbal. That was the vow they made under the mountain, just like the Spears before them.
As for Balsa, she spent the blustery winter days at her aunt Yuka’s house of healing, regaining her strength. While the wounds inflicted by Yuguro healed quickly, those made by the hyohlu did not. For many days she left her spear out of reach and simply slept. Her body felt leaden, like an empty shell. Her heart, pierced through by Jiguro’s spear, ached for a long time, but while she slept, the pain gradually ebbed until it was just a dull twinge. At last, she was able to rise from her bed and sit near the fire, talking with her aunt a little more each day. Yuka listened to Balsa relate the tale of her journey to the Mountain Deep and what had happened in the Darkness. It was like listening to an old folk tale. As they spoke, the chains that had bound Jiguro and Karuna in their hearts gradually loosened and fell away. Someday, they might be able to remember the dead with gladness and not such sharp sorrow.
The season of the deep snows passed, and the warm rays of the sun softened the hard crust of the drifts. One morning, Balsa’s room was filled with a familiar fragrance — simmering herbs. Her aunt was making medicine. As soon as she smelled it, Balsa felt a strong longing to see her friend Tanda, the healer. It must be the height of spring now in the Misty Blue Mountains. He would be out picking herbs, humming carelessly to himself.
It’s time to go home and tell him about my travels. She opened the window wide and felt the moist spring breeze on her face.
Kassa, Gina, Yoyo, and Toto the Elder went with her to the cave to see her off. Toto gave her a bag containing togal and yukkal leaves, and plenty of good laga, just as he had when she and Kassa set off for the Mountain Deep. Gina gave her a bag of jokom, a nut-filled cake baked to last for long journeys.
Hesitantly, Kassa held out a copper spear ring to fit on her shaft, just under the point. “Uh, this is my spear ring. I’d, um, like you to have it.”
He must have put his heart and soul into polishing it, for it shone like gold. Balsa smiled and took it. Then she removed her own spear ring, blackened with long use and the blood of others. She gripped it in her hand and looked at Kassa.
“It’s dirty, but I took this ring from Jiguro’s spear shaft. It protected both our lives.” She placed it on the palm of her hand and held it out. “Will you accept it?”
Kassa took the ring and slipped it into place on his own spear. Then he looked up at her and smiled shyly. “Both you and Jiguro were chosen as the Dancer. I wonder if I really have what it takes to use it.”
Balsa placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t read the future, but I can tell you this. If your skill with the spear continues to develop, you’ll be good enough to become the Dancer. Be a good spearman, Kassa.”
His smile slowly transformed into a bright grin.
Balsa raised her hand in farewell and turned abruptly toward the mouth of the cave. On the other side lay the Misty Blue Mountains, filled with the soft light of spring. With her thoughts fixed on those green mountain slopes, she strode boldly into the darkness.