224) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 50 -- A rather strange party

Grok giggled, sounding quite like Reilly in that moment. “Now, you are expecting me to ask you why you’re here, what brought you all the way out to these mountains, or something like that. But, in the mountains, things are different, you see. Time is different. The rules are different. You get closer to the essence of things.” She finished tying the last knot (or it finished tying itself), then stood up.

“Far more important than having a big discussion about things we can’t do anything about right now, are any of you musical?”

Kohra was sure that Grok glanced at Gorb as she said this, almost like the question was aimed right at him and she was watching for the reaction. 

She led them through a door at the back of the workshop, down a flight of stairs, and into another shelf-lined room, this one crammed with musical instruments, many types of which Kohra had never seen before.

A short while after that, they were having the time of their lives. Dominic was beating out a mean rhythm on a large hand-drum, Lenny (the “lazonnya” now baking in the oven) was improvising a melody on a violin and whirling around with abandon. Melkorn, back from his exploration with Reilly, was grinning, and keeping time (sort of) with a tambourine. And Kohra, Devona and Reilly were singing their hearts out, every old folk song they knew, Grok’s rich, honeyed alto harmonizing beautifully. 

And Gorb, well, Gorb was in a world of rapture, blowing for all he was worth into a bizarre instrument that looked like it was cobbled together from a random confusion of pipes, buttons and levers. When he’d first spotted it, he had let out a full-volume cry of pure, unadulterated joy, promptly subjecting them to a detailed rant about how this was a rare Klliik instrument from the Dynasty of the Tribes, centuries before the Great War, how he had learned it at the knee of his great-great-great grand-dad when he was “lil’ more ‘n a wee bairn,” how it was the only instrument capable of supporting the harmonic structures needed for the traditional Klliik proverbs, and how these proverbs, in turn, held the Ancient Teachings of the Klliik, some from even before the Lost Age. 

In other words, Gorb was excited, teasing out melodic arrangements, harmonies and syncopated rhythms through this contraption with gusto, a huge smile on his face. He even forgot to drink too much of Grok’s excellent wine. 

After the music and dancing wound down, they feasted on “lazonnya” and garlic bread with yak-cheese, then retired to, of all places, the barn, where they lounged on hay bales in front of a roaring fire in the rough stone fireplace that anchored one end. 

Calling it a “barn” was perhaps a bit of a misnomer. It was more like a livingroom for animals. Grok’s two best friends lived there, Sky and Sea, two blue, shaggy creatures that looked like crosses between wooly mammoths, oxen, and gorillas. 

“I don’t go out with them as much as I used to, and I think they get a little lonely,” she explained. “So, we have evening chats, and catch up on all the goings-on in each other’s lives.” She laughed. “Truth be told, I don’t get visitors much any more.”

“I blame the cities. That’s the heart of it all. Live in the cities too long, and you forget the Wild. You forget how to learn from it.” She shook her head in momentary sadness. ”The Wild is The Source of all.”

“Uh…” Kohra hesitated. 

“Yes?” 

Kohra immediately felt self-conscious. “Uh, it’s okay, I just, uh, had a question pop into my head but, yeah, it doesn’t matter.”

“Ask, Kohra!” Grok encouraged. “They say there are no stupid questions.”

Kohra reddened. “O-okay, um, you said, I mean, I agree with you and everything, uh, you said the Wild is the source of all. And, uh, right?”

The crimson-haired woman nodded. “Mmm-hmmm.”

“But I thought the Flux was the Source. I mean, isn’t the Flux supposed to be ‘the essence’ of things? Um, it’s why Shaping works, right? Does that make sense?” She felt stupid, like she was just being annoying.

“I know what you mean,” Grok nodded supportively. “But I cannot just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ because it would lead you astray. Your questions are inaccurately framed, so any answer will likewise be inaccurate in its implications.”

“Uhh….” People didn’t usually speak like this. Well, Lenny did sometimes, but not “normal” people. “You mean, I’m asking the wrong question?” she tried.

“Yes.”

She thought for a moment. “What would be the right question then?”

She felt a hand-like presence on top of her own hand, just for a second, as Grok responded. “Now THAT is a good question.”