“The new song stained the soles of our shoes
The new song bathed us.
We drank the new song.
We breathed it, taking it into ourselves for life
And for life to the song giving forth breath.”
And another voice, older, cracked, sang:
“The new song spoke to us in the new tongues.
The howl of a dog, the curly-coat’s whinny,
The fox’s bark.
The new song walked on the feet of the cat.
It spoke of its secrets in the death-squeal of the rabbit.
It sings its secrets from its own mouth
To the ears of those who can listen.
Let’s not leave it to sing alone any longer
But go to the center and add our voices
To keep it company for a while
And learn from it new harmonies. Aja ji.”
Yana had no idea how long or how often the song had been repeated, but suddenly everyone was putting their parkas on and, to the continued beat of the drum, filing through the door, out into the night. A brilliant band of light snaked overhead, punctuated occasionally by small dots of colored lights descending. More traffic at SpaceBase, she realized. It seemed incongruous and unreal after the chanting to think about ships landing.
Scan was nudging her forward, sandwiched between himself and Clodagh. “Is it over now?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the hot springs. We chant as we walk. You’ll see. It’s very beautiful.”
He squeezed her shoulders encouragingly, and she was not at all surprised, for some reason, to find that she was no longer tired.
With the beat sustaining her, and everyone else, they marched on; totally unlike any Christian soldiers, she thought irreverently. She was surprised when they reached the hot springs in what seemed like a very short time. She had thought the springs were much farther away from Kilcoole. The rising steam occluded any details that daylight might have illuminated. The procession-no, procession was not the right word any more than “ritual” or “religion.” Okay, she thought, this informal early-morning-after-the-night-before gathering made its way around the spring and seemed to disappear. Startled, she blinked, felt Scan’s fingers tighten in reassurance, and then realized that the line led under the waterfall. She hadn’t suspected before that there was any access there. But then with the steam and the sheeting of down-spilling water, she hadn’t looked.
There was just sufficient space for a body, knowing where to go, to sidle past the actual cascade of water without getting more than a dusting of spray. Then she had to adjust her vision to a curious lambent light that was both soft and clear. She could see the walls of a passage curving gradually downward, and the bobbing of heads as people descended. The air was remarkably fresh and invigorating.
The downward movement continued, with people silently merry. Yana tried to figure out why those words seemed so appropriate: “silently merry.” But they all were glad to be here, together, and moving toward whatever destination lay down there. She became aware that Scan was giving her occasional quick glances, as if reassuring himself that she was accepting this “happening.” She didn’t know what else she could have done but go along with everyone else, if only to discover what she could of the hidden places of Petaybee, and its secretive inhabitants. Yet … the palpable merriness of everyone around her denied the prospect of threat or harm. And she felt so good about coming!
How long the downward slope wound its way, she couldn’t tell, for the soft rhythmic beat of the bodhrans urged them onward, yet the drum sound did not echo, but was oddly absorbed by the walls. Then, suddenly, they were there! In a vast luminous cavern, all blues, greens, soft pastel variations of those hues in serrated layers, streamers, bands, patterns. She wished she could ask Diego if all of this looked familiar to him. She was certain she was in the cavern he had described-if not the same one, then a similar one. For there was the water he had mentioned, the odd formations that did look like natural vegetation in their apple green, and ice-sculptured animals in weird and bizarre shapes. People were seating themselves in random groups, murmuring pleasantly, merrily, to each other, with an air of expectation about them.