CHAPTER 157

Kisa looked around to see that everyone playing instruments had joined in, and a much bigger song was now emerging.

"It's pretty interesting," Dana said, raising her voice to be heard. "I asked them about it once. They call it 'One Herd.' Their music is a lot like their other traditions, and they do this to represent the various tribes coming together to act as one giant herd. Wait until you see them dance, they do this thing—"

Dana was still talking as Kisa slid out of her chair and approached the bonfire. The centaurs were grouping up now and forming a giant circle around the stack of wood. Up above, the sky was darkening, and the beat of the drums resonated through her entire body.

"Is like heartbeat," the old man told her, his firm hands on her hips. They were standing in front of a mirror, and she was wearing baggy sweats with a tank top that was tight enough that she could see her own ribs through it. "Let heartbeat of music move whole body, not just arms and legs."

To emphasize, he moved her hips in a tight circle in time with a metronome he had set in the corner. She sighed and looked down at where he was holding her, wondering if this was when he was going to try and take advantage of her. She had been staying with him for a couple of weeks now, and she couldn't help but wonder when the other shoe would drop.

"No, much too stiff," he said, then let go and stood next to her. "Too tight through pelvis. You need to unlock hips, Kisa." To demonstrate, he gyrated his hips, the bulge of his crotch now on full display in the mirror. He always wore a pair of grey tights when he practiced, and she looked away from his reflection.

"Isn't that kind of gross?" she asked. "Swinging your nuts around for everyone to see?"

"Human body is beautiful, Kisa," he told her with a scowl. "I dance for my own joy, and maybe joy of others. If someone has problem with my body, it is their problem, not mine. Never let what others think keep you from moving and chasing your own joy."

The beat had now filled her completely, her lips parted slightly as she stepped between a pair of centaurs to see the center of the circle. A man and a woman were stomping their feet and galloping around to keep everybody back, and a centaur stepped out from the crowd to reveal an elaborate headdress made of leaves and flowers.

Somebody cheered, and then a few others came forward, similarly dressed. They wore a variety of beads woven into the fabric that adorned their clothing and a bit of their flanks. They faced off with one another and stomped their feet while moving in a circular pattern. As far as dancing went, this seemed pretty tame.

At the front of the crowd, she found somewhere to stand next to a centaur child who stood about a foot taller than she did. The young man looked enthralled, his eyes wide in excitement.

"What are they doing?" she asked him, and he turned to look at her. A moment of surprise passed over his face when he saw who asked the question, and he lowered his front half so that they were now eye level.

"It's a traditional dance," he explained, shouting to be heard. "Many years ago, it was called a whirling something, I can't remember that part, but we now call it Running with the Wind."

The centaurs were now sidestepping from each other in time with the beat, and men and women alike were now twisting their arms from side to side as if winding themselves up. Kisa watched them for a second, then looked back at the youngster. "Do they teach this to all the kids?"

He blushed and looked down. "It's a tough dance, not everyone can do it."

Thinking that an odd answer, she was about to ask him what he meant when she saw that he was looking at one of his feet. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the ankle looked slightly thinner than the other three, and the hoof beneath it was the same color as his human skin. Over his hoof, he wore a thick brace, and she saw what looked like large toenails peeking over the edges. The hoof itself looked like it was stuck somewhere between human and horse, and she realized that the centaur had a deformity.

"Anyone can dance," she informed him, the heat rising in her cheeks. "Even this." The centaurs were now incorporating small turns with their lower bodies while they stepped sideways, and she had a feeling they were building up to something.

The youngster's cheeks turned red, and he frowned. "Dancing and being good at it are two entirely separate things."

"Fuck that noise," she growled. "You dance from your own heart, not everyone else's." The centaurs were now doing slow, full-body spins, and she saw that a few of them had moved up against the edges of the circle, making more room for the others.

There were two men and one woman in the circle, and Kisa stamped along with the others as the beat increased and the three centaurs started twirling. What started as a casual spin became aggressive, and the centaurs were now holding up their arms for balance as they spun, kicking up dirt and grit. All three of them looked like tiny tornados, and eventually one of them stumbled and fell out of sync with the others, leaving just one man and the woman.

It was a dance-off. She watched in amazement as the remaining two spun harder and faster than before, until the man finally lost his balance and stumbled into the others, caught by the crowd. The woman raised her arms in victory and trotted over toward her friends as another group came forward and the process repeated.

"See?" The centaur youth pointed at the new set of dancers as they spun. "It takes a lot of strength and coordination. They could fall, or accidentally kick someone." His eyes were locked on the dancers, and he chewed on his lip.

"But you do it, don't you?" she asked. "When nobody is looking, I bet you practice it."

He didn't respond.