Joris turned his attention to the dark woman in the doorway, a woman clearly born of evil, accustomed to wickedness. What a lovely and terrifying creature this is, he thought. If only all women wore their natures on the outside!
He felt guilty for thinking that, but it was lost when Sheen left his side to help Haden with the half-fiend. Where do you think you’re going? he wanted to shout. You can’t just make an accusation like that and walk away!
But she had. And it wasn’t an accusation, really; she hadn’t meant it to be. That was Sheen’s way, he knew, to dispense with formality and cut to the truth.
Was that the truth, then? Am I the one who doesn’t think I’m good enough?
The music resumed, an easy, waltzing tempo. Joris turned toward the bar, intending to secure another drink, but someone glided into his path – a tall woman in a vibrant green dress. An elaborate mask of peacock feathers hid her face; her long hair was black as a cave, and she smelled of – what was that? It was nothing he’d ever smelled before, yet it seemed familiar. Comfortingly familiar.
“Will you dance with me, sir?” she asked, her voice soft, with an exotic accent. Before Joris knew what was happening, they were dancing, and he was aware of their closeness, of the heat between his fingers and her skin. That was always part of dancing, but it had never affected him so strongly before. I’m not that drunk, he thought. Am I?
He wanted to see what the others were doing, but found his attention completely arrested by this woman. “I’m Raven,” she said.
“Joris,” he croaked. Wish I’d gotten that drink. “My name’s Joris Crownsilver.”
“You dance well, Joris,” Raven said. Had Sheen told him the same thing? When was that, earlier tonight? Last week?
“Thank you,” he mumbled, not sure if she’d heard.
“Is that a god of magic?” she asked, flicking her green eyes toward the holy symbol that Joris had insisted on wearing, over Haden’s strenuous objection.
“A goddess, yes. Mystra.”
“I thought so. I’ve seen that before, at the Circle.” Seeing his confusion, Raven continued: “It’s a little shrine, not too far from here. They honor three deities of magic there: yours, Wee Jas, and Corellon Larethian.” She gave him simple directions, which he struggled to memorize, captivated as he was by the impossible greenness of her eyes.
“I’ve been hoping to find a place,” Joris said, “where the Lady of Mysteries was worshipped in Sigil.”
“It’s not much, honestly – “
“It’s something. Thank you for telling me about it, Raven. How did you come to find the Circle?”
“Because magic is my life, Joris. I’m a sorcerer.”
His next question was lost as the waltz drew to a close amidst a smattering of polite applause. The quartet’s drummer began to hammer out a driving beat; as the guitar, flute, and harpsichord joined, an elated shout of “Caravan!” erupted from those on and around the dance floor.
“Tell me you caravan,” Raven exclaimed.
Joris watched the other dancers for a moment – just long enough to get the idea. The caravan was a lot like that silly dance that girl had convinced him to learn so they could enter that silly competition together…
Joris pulled Raven close. “For you,” he said, “I will.”
They launched into the dance. Strangely, though he led, Raven deftly steered him through the more unfamiliar portions. Joris danced on, forgetting why he was there, ignoring the reasons why he hadn’t wanted to come. He didn’t feel the eyes of everyone watching, wasn’t shackled by the memories of a hundred balls and cotillions past. Only the moment mattered. Only Raven mattered.
He only regained his sense of self as the music and the movement ended and the clapping began. Joris held up Raven’s hand in triumph, and they bowed to the other dancers, then to each other.
“That was divine, ” Raven said. “Thank you, Joris.”
Joris found that he was too winded to reply. To his relief, Raven started toward the bar, and he followed. He saw Talan nearby, and Haden approaching a pair of cloaked figures. Baltazo! he thought. Mother of Magic, Joris, but you’re an idiot! You came here tonight for a reason!
He saw Haden tug on one man’s cloak, and Joris started pushing his way forward. The scene quickly dissolved into chaos, only to be swallowed by Haden’s darkness. He saw a great cat bound from the black to the hall, pursued by Talan, but Joris was too crowd-bound to do much about it.
By the time Joris was free to move, the action was over. He headed over to Sheen and Haden, asking them “Was that him?”
Haden replied in the affirmative, but Joris only half-heard, looking around for any sign of Raven – but the woman was gone. Joris had the strange sensation that she hadn’t been real, that he’d imagined the entire encounter. No, pike that, he thought, as they say here. I’m going to find her. It’s a big Cage, but there’s only so many places -
“I have to say,” Haden said, ending Joris’s reverie, “that this has definitely been a fun party.”
“Best I’ve ever seen,” Joris replied.
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