Darkwhispers

by Vashti Hardy

  Arthur was agog, his mouth dropping open. Relief was instant, as though the knot in his stomach had been magically untwined, because it wasn’t a creature, it was a man! He spoke with an undeniable Uptown accent, and the great head was in fact just a rather out-of-proportion hat, and the coat looked to be made of moss.

  “Who are you?”

  “It is you who dropped on my doorstep, so etiquette would say perhaps you should tell me first. You’re not from Erythea, are you?”

  Arthur couldn’t believe it. He’d said that word, Erythea! He shook his head. “I’m from Lontown. My name’s Arthur Brightstorm.”

  “Lontown?” The man’s face erupted with a wide smile and he clapped his hands together excitedly. “Well, well, well, dear old Lontown, you say! I thought I heard a sky-ship, so I thought I’d venture out to see, but I convinced myself I’d imagined it. Arthur Brightstorm? Goodness, this is quite marvellous.” He spoke quickly, his words galloping from his lips. “How did you…? Where…? What in all the…?” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Plenty of time for questions. First things first; let me help you up.” He held out a hand and Arthur immediately saw the four triangles tattooed on his arm and the realization hit as the man said, “I’m Ermitage, Ermitage Wrigglesworth.”

  Again, Arthur’s jaw dropped. “You’re alive!”

  Ermitage Wrigglesworth looked down at his body. “Why yes, so I am, how perceptive of you!” He grinned cheekily and pulled Arthur to his feet.

  Arthur couldn’t believe what he was hearing and seeing. For a moment he wondered if he had bumped his head too hard on the way down and it was all some sort of dream, but the man’s grasp was real.

  “Dear me, you took quite a fall there. I’d say you’re lucky to be alive, let alone to have got away without a broken bone. Looks like a twist to me.” He indicated Arthur’s ankle, then searched around and snapped a branch from a tree close by. “There, a temporary crutch for you. Hurry now, I’ve been out long enough, and we don’t want to get caught in a deluge. These parts are particularly susceptible and there was a storm out at sea not long ago.”

  “But my friend is still up there. She’s a sapient bird, and I’ve lost her.”

  Ermitage looked up. “She’ll find it impossible to fly down here. She’ll be fine, I’m sure – anything with wings or fins is safe here. It’s the legs that are a problem, so you’re at a clear disadvantage now. Come along, old thing. We need to follow the streams; it’ll take for ever through the trees and we’ll get quite lost. But you’ll have to take care not to slip, so pop the stick under your armpit and I’ll take your other arm, ah I see… Well never mind, I’m sure we’ll do just fine.”

  They began navigating through the ferns, then the first stream.

  “Halt there, old thing!” he suddenly shouted. “Leeches!”

  He was staring at Arthur’s arm. Arthur looked down to see another of the black shiny creatures on his wrist in the most unreachable place.

  “They’ll suck you dry these things; lucky it’s a small one.”

  “Small? It’s two inches wide!”

  “Ah, a baby. Some are the size of North Craggies seal pups!”

  Arthur gave a quiver of laughter, hoping Mr Wrigglesworth was joking.

  “Allow me.” Wrigglesworth plucked the leech off and tossed it away.

  They continued slowly upstream, Arthur looking down at his arm and legs every few seconds, checking for the slimy, black blood-suckers.

  “We thought you were dead,” Arthur said.

  “Really? But I’ve barely been gone more than a few moon cycles.”

  “More like twelve.”

  “What? Really? Time flies when you’re in Erythea!”

  “There’s a whole armada looking for you. That was, until we discovered you were dead, then they all turned back.”

  “Dead? What nonsense. But not quite all turned back, eh?” He looked Arthur up and down. “A whole armada? Who’d have thought anyone would be interested in an old fuddy-duddy explorer like me when we have all you new-bloods coming up? Well, well. I thought I could slip away quietly and come back with the biggest surprise of all. Did you come with your father? Ernest, isn’t it?”

  The words were like a thump to Arthur’s chest, but he didn’t show it. “No, I came with Harriet Culpepper and her crew.”

  “Jolly decent family, the Culpeppers. Octavie Culpepper was a dear friend of mine, although we drifted apart.” Ermitage stared at an invisible point in the distance for a moment, a glazed look in his eyes. “Is your father letting you branch out on your own? The best way to learn the ropes is to stand on one’s own feet, you know.”

  Arthur was getting the feeling that Ermitage Wrigglesworth didn’t ask questions with a view to getting answers, necessarily.

  “Respectable chap, I always thought, despite the way some looked down on him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for having a go. I mean, we can’t all be heritage families of the First Continent.”

  “Vornatania, you mean.”

  “Yes, yes, First, Vornatania, one and the same.”

  “Not really,” said Arthur.

  “How’s the ankle?”

  “Sore.”

  “Ah, look!” He grabbed a plant close by and tore off a piece of bark. “Chew that – it’ll help.”

  It tasted bitter and was like trying to chew the sole of a boot.

  After navigating the streams for a while longer and having awkward conversations about the weather back in Lontown, they appeared to be in a swamp. A humid haze drifted between thin trees with drooping branches. Frogs croaked in a raucous loop of noise.

  “Here we are!”

  “Are we?” Arthur said, feeling less impressed than he’d hoped. From what he’d seen before he fell, this land was a jewel box, so this dark, dank spot seemed like a strange place to reside. He slapped mosquitoes away from his face.

  “Come along.”

  A structure came into view a little way ahead, something man-made.

  It was a house on stilts, an old, shack-like structure at the top with a crooked chimney and arched windows. As they neared, it became apparent that the house wasn’t on stilts exactly, but there were cranks of a sort.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  “It’s certainly curious.”

  “The whole structure can move from ground level to fifty feet high. All based on cranks and cogs – primitive, really, but these are historic now in this continent, a relic of past times.”

  Arthur imagined how Maudie would’ve run straight over to examine the mechanisms. He missed her so much. At least he wasn’t alone now, but he felt as though he’d been split in two and left half of himself back on Nova.

  “Most of these are falling into disrepair with many preferring the bubble houses – very popular in the south, I hear. Standard tree-houses are for the traditionals, or there are the modern waterfall homes, and of course, most choose to live in the city of Tempestra.”

  “I think that’s where the rest of my crew were on their way to— before I fell, that is.” Arthur considered telling Ermitage about the Vane situation, but he was still a little unsure of him.

  “Perhaps we can get you there, after you’ve rested that ankle of yours. I’ll wind the house down, save you climbing stairs.”

  Ermitage began turning a large crank. It cricked and groaned, and chains rattled. The whole house tilted forward and chunks of moss slopped into the swamp. Then, as he continued turning the crank, the building swung backwards and began edging down.

  “This ancient technology dates back several hundred years. Fascinating, don’t you think? It’s the reason I stayed here – so much to document!”

  The house reached just above swamp-water-level, and Ermitage ushered Arthur inside. It was full of crooked shelves with papers, books, pots and jars, just a bundle of blankets on the floor on a makeshift mattress, a few cushions, a rustic table and chair, and a stove. It was full of paper and books, just a bundle of blankets on the floor
, a few cushions and a chair. On the table was a huge barometer, but it was unlike the one Meriwether used, which stated very dry, fair, change, rain and stormy. This one read fair, rain, rainy, rainier, torrential rain, storm, DELUGE. At the moment the arrow pointed to fair.

  Ermitage tapped it, and it stayed on fair. “We’ll stay level. I’ll put the kettle on and see to your wounds. Do sit down. You take the chair and I’ll prop your foot up.”

  Arthur dropped into the chair, relieved to take the weight off his ankle. “Deluge sounds pretty bad.”

  “The worst deluge we see around here is thirty feet, so we’re quite safe.”

  “Thirty feet!” Arthur almost choked on his own words.

  “Hmm, it tends to be less sudden here than the northern side of the land.” Ermitage pulled a tree stump from under the table and a cushion, then elevated Arthur’s ankle. “Just under the mountains sees the most severe floods. The complex weather system here is caused by what I would surmise is a variation of factors, all combining to create, well, chaos.”

  “Chaos?”

  “Chaos by our standards, but in this land they are perfectly used to it. Quite marvellous how the ecosystem and people have evolved here.”

  “Mr Wrigglesworth? From what I’ve heard of the people here, they know all about us, yet we know nothing about them.”

  Ermitage squinted, his forehead becoming as wrinkled as tree bark. “Intriguing, isn’t it. I made it my life’s work to find a way here. Everyone said I was a blind fool.”

  “The Votary of Four,” said Arthur gesturing to his arm with the four triangles.

  “My, you have done your homework.” He twisted the end of his grey beard around his finger and studied Arthur for a moment.

  “I like books.”

  Ermitage smiled. “Me too.”

  “I read your original annotated copy of Explorers in the Third Age.”

  “Did you now!” Ermitage puffed out his chest proudly.

  “It was extremely … interesting in places.”

  “Just in places?” his shoulders sank a little.

  Arthur leaned in. “In hidden places…”

  A spark of light ignited in Ermitage’s eyes. “My dear old thing, you didn’t…?”

  Arthur nodded. “Words revealed by lemon was clever. As was the secret drawer on Mangrove Island.”

  “Well, I never! You are a bright chap. I shall have to work a little harder in future!” Ermitage took a jug from the shelf and poured Arthur a wooden cup of water, then shuffled to the door and opened it out to the rainforest.

  There had been a constant backdrop of water trickling and frogs croaking. Every so often a bird would break out with its own signature trill or whistle. Everything smelt like being in an overgrown greenhouse. The combined scent of vegetation, moisture and soil, wood, decaying plants. It wasn’t a bad smell – it smelt of life.

  “So, how is Captain Culpepper?” asked Ermitage. “I’ve watched her career with great interest.”

  Arthur gave a little cough. This couldn’t go on. “Mr Wrigglesworth, I need to tell you something. I’m not actually here with the Culpepper crew.”

  Ermitage turned around and squinted curiously.

  “I’m here with the Vanes, and not by choice,” Arthur added quickly.

  “What in all of the Wide is that woman doing here? How did she…?”

  “She broke into your house in Lontown and took some journals.”

  He banged the kettle on the stove. “I knew I should’ve burned them before I left! That woman has no honour. Thaddeus, her father, was the same. I’d sooner trust a mosquito who’d promised not to bite me.” He slapped one away from his arm.

  Arthur grimaced. “It gets worse. She’s heading for the city, and she’s pretending to be Harriet.”

  “Pretending to be Harriet Culpepper? Why would she do that?”

  “I don’t know. The people that came to the Aurora seemed to recognize the Culpepper symbol on the ship, the swallows.”

  “Did they, now?” Ermitage reared his head back and frowned.

  Arthur nodded.

  “Well, my dear old thing, I think we should head for the city and find out what she’s up to. Just as soon as your ankle is a little better – it’s quite a journey from this part of the land.”

  Ermitage went to the shelf and selected a bottle of brown liquid. He poured it into two coconut shells and handed one to Arthur. “While the kettle is heating we’ll have some jungle vitamin soup. It’s perfectly fine cold. I’ve been experimenting with various vitamins and minerals found in the locality.”

  Arthur held the shell and his stomach turned over at the marshy stench.

  Mistaking his reaction for caution, Ermitage patted him on the back. “Nothing to worry about. All the ingredients are safe and checked out by the local population. Drink up, my dear old thing; this will put hairs on your chest and stop the insects coming after your blood at night: double benefits!” Ermitage leaned in towards him, wide-eyed and grinning.

  Arthur smiled gawkily, pausing for a moment, certain that Mr Wrigglesworth would tell him it was all a joke.

  Instead Ermitage said, “Come along now, do you call yourself an explorer, or not? Chin, chin!” Then Ermitage tapped his coconut shell to Arthur’s and gulped his own murky liquid down.

  Arthur pinched his nose, closed his eyes, and tried to imagine that it was Felicity’s many-veg soup. But it tasted vile; like rotten cheese and fermented grass. He wretched.

  Ermitage laughed. “That’s my boy! How I’ve missed the true Lontonian spirit of adventure.” While Ermitage looked longingly into the distance then turned to top up his own jungle soup, Arthur swiftly tipped his into a potted palm of red fruits beside him, muttering an apology to the plant.

  “Now it looks like we’ve time to pass while you heal that ankle of yours. I’d say about a week or so. I want to hear all the news of Lontown and all about what happened on your journey here.”

  Arthur nodded. “But how did you find your way here, Mr Wrigglesworth?”

  “My sky-ship crashed, I ran out of fuel, and those blasted darkwhispers were swarming in.”

  “That’s what you drew in your journals?”

  “Yes. I’d not come across them in person when I drew them, but the people on Nova will tell rather a lot if you supply them with enough rum! Luckily one of their sea-ships was on the way back, being guided in by the fire-bird. They took pity and rescued me, then brought me to the city. When they asked if I intended to return, of course I said I didn’t. I got the distinct impression it wasn’t an option. So, they let me stay, which suited me because I couldn’t wait to explore this new world to uncover the history, the technology!”

  “What exactly are the darkwhispers? We got past them, but more by luck.”

  “Curious things. They feed on energy, from what I know. Electrical energy, however they can find it, storms, memories… Why do you think no one has ever made it this far before? But I’m more a historian than a zoologist.” He shrugged.

  “So they’re a barrier to the outside world, keeping this land a secret?”

  “Indeed.”

  “And the Erytheans let you stay here even though you’re from the outside?”

  “They keep a very close eye on me. There’s always someone not far away. Of course, you’d never know it as an outsider – they blend into the forest as though they were chameleons – but I know they are there.”

  Arthur peered out of the window in suspicion. “Are they out there now?”

  “Perhaps.” Ermitage topped up Arthur’s coconut shell and edged his chair in eagerly. “Now drink up and tell me about home.”

  Arthur grinned uncomfortably, his stomach yearning for any of Felicity’s dishes. He was happy to tell Ermitage about Lontown, but not so thrilled by a period of recovery, being confined to a hut drinking green sludge. He had the feeling it was going to be a long week.

  CHAPTER 16

  FIRE-BIRD

  The days passed. Maud
ie hated the motion of the sea; it was harsher than the sky, like it had you in a gluey grip. In the sky you felt part of it, an equal with it, but the sea wanted to dominate. It took her in a sickly rhythm that made her swallow back for fear of retching.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about Arthur, so she busied herself with the sky-ak, cleaning the small water engine and working on the modifications in her diary.

  A bank of ominous clouds waited on the horizon. What were they sailing towards? Storms were no fun in sky-ships, and Maudie imagined going through one in a sea-ship would be worse. Perhaps she should strengthen the rivets.

  Harriet stared into the distance, her hands on the wheel, deadly focused and the quietest Maudie had ever seen her.

  “Have this.” Felicity passed Maudie a cup. “I’m trying a new mint tea to help with the queasiness.”

  The clouds had grown unimaginably huge in no time at all.

  “I wonder what Meriwether would make of that.” Maudie indicated the looming gloom. She recalled the technical names of the clouds in her head: stratus, cumulus, cirrus, nimbus. But these ones seemed unfathomably huge, like nothing she’d seen back home. Would it be possible to invent a machine to disperse them? She looked up at the sky; never had it felt more distant from her, apart, almost severed.

  “Harriet will get us through it, don’t you worry. It’s likely just a bank of sea mist. It shouldn’t be turbulent or anything to bother us.”

  But Maudie couldn’t help but notice how Felicity wriggled her bare toes uncomfortably, and she didn’t like the way the wind had dropped and the sails had wilted in the past chime. The waves became eerily smoother the closer they got to the mist. Dad had always said silence comes before the storm, and she knew that to be true in the same way that quiet thought often preceded ideas, or the way there was a moment of vacuum before an explosion.

  Maudie stood beside Harriet as they approached the cloud. Welby and Felicity joined them. Had the Aurora flown through this? How far behind were they?