THE NIGHT MARKET OF EHALÀ is one of the ancient desert city's most interesting places, and one of the most dangerous, perhaps, as it is near the western gate into the great eternal desert and near the winding narrow streets leading to the poorer quarters. It is far away from the beautiful palace with its fountain courts, and far away, too, from the watchful eyes of the Ehalese town guards - one reason why the night market is also called the market of thieves. Some used to call it the Mogadina market, as the Ehalese ghetto is in the immediate vicinity.
Kirù the dragonet charmer lived in a hut near the main street of the Mogadina, not far from the night market. Like all the ghetto's inhabitants he was Mogadi, which meant his eyes and ears were those of a large cat, he had bright talons, purple as his hair, large fangs and there was something distinctively feline about his moves and his imperturbable cool gaze that always seemed directed at a spot somewhere beyond somebody's left shoulder, causing people to squint involuntarily. Along with these traits went what was most characteristic for a member of Kirù's kind, two brightly coloured tentacles extending one on each side from his temples, just below the line of purple hair. Kirù's tentacles measured the length of his extended arm from almost shoulder to the tips of his slender fingers, and they were a bright crimson.
Being Mogadi also meant being distrusted, dishonourable and generally avoided. People did not like Kirù to come to the grand marble streets and play his flute under the white arches of the palace gates, and his presence was neither desired in the fabled hanging gardens looking over the blue, blue lake of Ehalà, set all in golden sand and green palm trees, nor was his art in demand anywhere else except in the nooks of the bazaar, Ehalà's main attraction in the busy centre, and in front of the cheap inns and caravanserais gathered along South Gate Road, from where caravans came and went on the long route through the desert to the sea.
For these reasons, and because dragonets produce the best effects in the dark, Kirù the dragonet charmer frequented the night market near West Gate, along with story-tellers, traders in shady wares, acrobats and illusionists disregarded by the Ehalese academy of magic arts.
Tonight, there was a large audience gathered around old blind Tyez, eagerly drinking each of his words, as he told the ancient legend of the desert rose, that only blooms for true lovers, and which the uncle of the beautiful Ismesha had demanded of her lover, Prince Rakhil...
Kirù listened for a while, then turned his attention to his business. Carefully he set the large basket he had carried on the ground and pushed the lid back a bit, before sitting down behind it, cross-legged, only half visible in the darkness.
Kirù waited patiently, carefully assembling his flute, a long traverse flute, not the short reed pipe used for charming snakes in the bazaar. Kirù's flute was of polished black wood, set with silver, and like the dragonet Kirù had inherited it from his father.
Spreading his crimson tentacles, he peered at the basket. A few people were watching from a stall across from Kirù, eating fruit.
"Come, beloved," he crooned "wake up, my beautiful one."
Gently and very low, he started to play. A soft rustle was heard from the basket, coils and coils of unwinding reptile body, and a thin wisp of smoke rose into the air.
"Look!", a voice shouted, "A dragonet!"
Not yet. Goldflake, Kirù's dragonet, bided her time. She knew best when to appear before an audience, and the simple cry of "dragonet" was not going to bring her out. Kirù played on, eyeing the market, his particular attention on an illusionist standing in a small space between a gemstone trader's stall and the shady nook commandeered by a maker and seller of poisons. Kirù knew the woman well, Mogadi like himself, and he knew her poisons always worked as she intended, though not always to the customers' satisfaction.
The illusionist was new at the night market, a young human not admitted to higher learning, poor to judge by his looks and worn clothes, and dependent on what he could get to make a living. Kirù let the flute whistle. The young magician to be looked his way and finally walked towards him. He was thin, pale and worn out with exhaustion. "I've been here all night," he said. "Nearly nothing." He sat down near the dragonet charmer, keeping a safe distance to the smoking basket. "You see, I'm tired. I can't... keep this up for hours."
Kirù stopped playing. "You'll learn. What can you do?"
"Just a few ordinary tricks... birds, flowers - things like that."
"Do they sing?"
"If I want them to..." he coughed and Kirù could see he was even poorer than he looked. The young illusionist's eyes were on the basket.
"What have you got inside there?" he asked, bewildered. "It's not... a dragonet, is it?"
"Her name is Goldflake." The mogadi put the flute to his dark lips and played solemnly. The basket moved. Then the lid flew off and a pointed head with large eyes of liquid fire not unlike those of Kirù himself rose on a slender golden neck, gently swaying from side to side.
There was a whisper of dread and admiration from the crowd, as the dragonet rose further till her shimmering scales arched above Kirù and the illusionist, who sat with his head buried in his hands. The great beast started to dance slowly to the music of the large black flute, the curves of its body shining with gold, pale pink and white, a dark blue ridge running down its back.
The crowd gasped. Those liquid eyes were intelligent, that face expressive, regarding them with unveiled curiosity. Unconsciously, their eyes went to Kirù, apparently the master of this magnificent creature. They had all seen it before, but they gawked in awe every time.
Kirù's eyes were on the market, among the buyers, sellers and night time walkers, when suddenly he saw the child. A human girl of few years, dressed foreignly in a plain white tunic and brown skirt. She stared at the dragonet with eyes wide with terror.
Gently, Kirù changed his tune to a solemn dance. With the music, Goldflake drifted out of the basket and into the air, her dark blue whiskers bristling as she circled above them, her body arching in elegant waves. The child, which had frozen with fear, relaxed a little, but still regarded both Kirù and the dragonet with distrust. Coins started tinkling in the upturned lid next to the basket, causing the young illusionist to look up once, before returning to his curled up posture. Kirù played on, his eyes on the child, knowing that the dragonet knew her business. What was a human child, and such a rich, foreign child at that, doing at the night market? Had she run away from her parents, had someone tried to steal her away, as sometimes people did, to sell her here to the highest bidder?
The young magician to be next to the mogadi rubbed his eyes. "She's lost.", he remarked. The child rubbed her eyes, too, and clasped her arms over her chest. She was cold and tired, and Kirù's sharp eyes, that pierced the dark like a cat's, saw she had been crying.
A lost human child. What should he do? He kept on playing, making the dragonet dance in the air. The child drew closer, her eyes looking directly into the beast's. As she advanced, the people gathered around could see what Kirù had already noticed. The little girl was definitely foreign, and definitely lost. She blinked, and started as suddenly she was surrounded by sparkling light! Stars glittered in her flaxen hair, she spun around, and the sparkles all flew away as chirruping birds. The young magician to be bowed.
The crowd thickened, there were murmurs of approval. The child looked up, begging for more, holding out a small hand. The dragonet hung poised above them, her tail with the spiked end curling around Kirù's ears. He touched her with a tentacle, and the dragonet dived down and up like a circle of gold. The child clapped her hands. Her small face was flushed with excitement, and she called out to Kirù in a language he could not understand. He signalled to Goldflake - and this time, the dragonet decided to spiral up and down around the surprised little girl! For moments, the golden coils covered her completely before the beast flicked its tail and ascended again like a living flame. The child, strangely enough, laughed and shouted to Kirù, pointing at the dragonet.
The crowd around them grew, rooted to the ground by the extraordinary performance. All of a sudden, a high-pitched scream rent the night, and just as illusionary fire dropped from the dragonet's body, turning to glittering stars, a man and woman burst onto the scene, both stiffening with fear, as the dragonet descended towards the wide open arms of the child. Even Kirù was amazed. Usually Goldflake regarded the audience as infinitely beneath her. She might play tricks on them, fly close over their heads or flick a tail in somebody's face, but never, never would she suffer herself to be touched...
The girl screamed with pleasure, then stood perfectly still as the dragonet passed under her arms, around her body and hung motionless in front of her for a while, just long enough for the child's small hand to stroke the pointed head... with a puff of smoke and a small gust of flame, Goldflake rushed up into the night, where accompanied by Kirù's flute, she danced a weaving, meandering dance, her fiery breath reflected on her scaly flanks.
Spellbound, the man and woman watched. And slowly, the fear on their faces melted, leaving only an expression of sheer wonder. Kirù's music was in the air, mingling with the dancing coils. At length he stopped playing, releasing them from the spell. The man and woman blinked, only now recognizing their surroundings. Shyly, the woman approached Kirù, while her husband, their daughter in his arms, dropped coins into the lid and into the illusionist's palm.
The mogadi seemed to look past her left shoulder, as cautiously the woman came close to the crimson tentacles, the teeth, the blazing green eyes. Her hand shaking, she drew something out from beneath her shawl and held it out to Kirù. Laying the flute aside, he reached out. As he stretched his fingers, his purple talons became visible, curved and sharp as blades. The woman's hand shook, but remained where it was. They touched, the terrible purple talons took the gift it held from the soft human hand, the tentacles spread out gratefully. Hurriedly, the woman got to her feet and scrambled after her already departing husband.
Kirù looked at his hand. The woman had given him a coin, a large foreign coin with a hole in the middle. It was apparently quite old, and dull. Kirù rubbed it against his sleeve.
A lot of black dirt came off, and the coin now gleamed silver. He peered at it closely, trying to figure out its worth. Carved on the surface of the coin were things Kirù had no name for - the sea, which he had never seen, a tall ship with three masts... turning it in his hands, on the reverse he saw the figure of a woman and child holding each others hands around a dark opening, through which he could see the bright flame of a fire eater. Slowly, carefully, he slipped the coin into his pocket and began to play.
I am 24, and am currently working on a master's degree in Early Modern History at Regensburg University in Germany. My family is binational (my father is Irish), and I grew up in Germany speaking both English and German (sometimes simultaneously) and I write in both languages, too. I am fascinated by people (both real and imagined): people of different times, cultures, societies,languages etc. and everything they get up to, from Gothic Cathedrals to the Internet. (If you think of the Gothic Cathedral à la Chartes as a representation of the universe, the two may in fact have something in common... ;->)
E-mail: Tania-Ann.Evans@stud.uni-regensburg.de
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