Free Shadowdance by Robin W Bailey

back silently.
    "I'm sorry," Innowen said, relenting. "Just don't speak ill of the Witch."
    Drushen hung his head. "Not if it upsets you," he agreed quietly. "But remember she is a witch. You know nothing about her, not even a name to call her by."
    "No one knows her name," Innowen countered. "But I owe her no less, and somehow 1 intend to find her." He swallowed as he tugged at the hem of the chiton and adjusted his belt. "Now I'm going for a walk. Coming?"
    Drushen smiled weakly again and looked askance. "I thought you wanted to go alone," he said. "You've never taken a walk by yourself, remember?"
    "I've never taken a walk with you, either," Innowen reminded him, and he poked his guardian in the ribs playfully with one finger. "Not without being carried, anyway." He took a step past Drushen and opened the door. "Coming?"
    Reluctantly, Drushen nodded.
    They went into the corridor together, and Drushen pointed to the left. "That way leads back toward the Great Hall," he said, and that was enough for Innowen. The stone floor was cold against his bare feet, so he set a brisk pace. His guardian, though, had no trouble keeping up. As he had noted before, Whisperstone was a maze, and they were quickly lost. He wished momentarily that he'd waited to invite Taelyn to join them, or perhaps even Minarik himself. But he was in no hurry. It was only just nightfall. He had until dawn to explore.
    Many of the corridors were dark, but some of them were lit with lanterns hanging on pegs, or by oil lamps suspended by small chains from beams in the ceilings, Innowen thought about simply appropriating one of the lanterns, but after all, this wasn't their home, and their host might take it unkindly. Instead, they made their way carefully from one pool of light to the next.
    When they passed an occasional window, they stopped. Most were shuttered tight, but one or two were slender, open embrasures barely wide enough to stand in sideways. Innowen squeezed into one and looked out. On the wall far below, he could just discern the watchfires of the sentries. He wondered if they were Minarik's men or if Kyrin was still at Whisperstone, too. Except for Drushen and Taelyn and, briefly, Minarik, he'd seen no one all day. Where was everyone? Were they still hunting the Witch?
    A chill wind blew suddenly on his body, forcing him back inside.
    They continued on, up and down staircases, through corridors both narrow and wide, lit and unlit, and at last found themselves in the entrance hall before Whisperstone's great doors. There, lamps blazed in mirrored niches, casting a rich, warm glow. Innowen considered the several passages that branched from the entrance hall and chose the one he thought he'd walked with Minarik the night before. It occurred to him that he might find his benefactor if he retraced the steps they had taken together.
    But as he started that way, a few sweet notes of music touched his ears. He stopped, and the music stopped. He'd heard that ethereal piping before, and he remembered the girl at Kyrin's feet. Another flurry of notes played on the air and faded. Innowen listened expectantly to the silence.
    "It's beautiful," Drushen said when it started and stopped again. "Can you tell where it's coming from?"
    Innowen shook his head, listening, hoping for more. "No, but I met the piper last night. She's as pretty as her song."
    A cascade of music suddenly filled the hall. Innowen looked at Drushen, and the old man's face lit up. It didn't stop so quickly this time, either. The sound flowed around them in a joyful rush. "Beautiful," Drushen repeated, his voice a reverent whisper.
    "This way," Innowen said, choosing the passage from which the music seemed to originate. He could feel it on his skin like a warm watery wave. His step lightened as he went; he could barely keep from dancing. The Witch had told him he had to dance to walk. But he held himself back, resisting each insistent note. When he found the piper, then he would dance.
    After