by Ana Salote
‘I’m sorry for my ignorance,’ said Yehvo. ‘I gave you days to do what would take me years. You can’t have read all this.’
‘I’m a good skimmer. I’ve writ out the bits that apply most to us and it don’t come to more than ten pages.’
Yehvo sat down while Gertie explained all about forces, and what measurements Yehvo would need to take and how she could calculate what force to apply and where. Yehvo frowned and chewed on her lip and stroked her chin bristles. She stopped Gertie on page four. ‘So far I ain’t understood a word, and I can’t see that repeating it will help. Perhaps I’m old or perhaps I’m an idiot, or perhaps this is beyond the reach of most. So you’ll just have to come along with me.’
‘You wouldn’t want me along,’ said Gertie, hastily. ‘All that will happen is I’ll slow you down. This sort of thing is Gritty’s department not mine.’
‘Gritty isn’t here. You are. You got yourself to Nondula didn’t you from goodness knows where?’
‘I didn’t do nothing but get on a boat. The wind did the rest. I survived somehow. Let me start again.’ Gertie turned back the pages. ‘I’ll go slower. Once you get the first bit the rest will follow.’
Yehvo couldn’t get it or she didn’t want to get it. ‘Really, you had better come with me,’ she said.
‘Emberd needs me, and I promised Oy I’d take care of Linnet,’ said Gertie.
‘He’s a grown man, and she’s a child surrounded by nurses and well-wishers. My people are worked and starved till they’re lucky to make two names, and babes learn not to cry for hunger. Do you know what that’s like?’
‘Yes,’ said Gertie.
‘Well then, now’s your chance to take some of that suffering away. All you have to do is make a little trip.’
Gertie was silent.
‘Think about it. I’ll give you two days,’ said Yehvo.
Gertie went to see Linnet.
Linnet could see that something was wrong. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ she said ‘Has another message come?’
‘No.’
‘What is it then? And don’t say ‘nothing’ ’cos I can see it in your face.’ Linnet folded her arms and stared at Gertie.
‘Stop that,’ said Gertie. ‘Stop that staring. You know I can’t stand it. It’s nothing to do with Oy and nothing to do with you. I’ll go if you don’t stop looking at me like that. Oh, alright. I’m sworn not to tell anyone so you keep this to yourself mind.’
Linnet unfolded her arms and settled herself for a story.
When Gertie finished she looked almost ashamed. ‘Now I say it out loud it sounds foolish,’ she said. ‘Impossible really. I mean how can something so small make a difference to something so big? It can’t can it?’
‘Course it can,’ said Linnet. ‘We’ve hatched some big eggs before haven’t we?’
‘We have,’ said Gertie. ‘But this...’
‘Is one more,’ said Linnet. ‘You’ve done good. What are you so worried about?’
‘Yehvo wants me to go with her.’ She repeated Yehvo’s words. ‘And then she talked about babes crying for hunger. What could I say when she put it like that?’
‘Only yes,’ said Linnet.
‘I promised Oy I’d look after you.’
‘Oy would want you to go.’
‘What if I got my sums wrong?’
‘You?’ Linnet shook her head.
‘So you think I should go?’
‘You should go.’
When Gertie broke the news to Emberd he gave her a long list of perfectly logical reasons why she should not go. Failure was one and death was another. He also said he couldn’t possibly run the library without her, and finally he said that she was the only person in Nondula who understood him and that he would miss her. As he talked Gertie found that she mostly agreed with him. She went back to Linnet and told her what Emberd had said.
‘He’s wrong,’ said Linnet decisively. ‘Listen, Gert, I’ve got no choice but to live small. I hardly see the outside of this somin and I’m no good to anyone.’ Gertie began to protest but Linnet raised her hand. ‘It’s true. Now you got a chance to live big. I’d give anything for that.’
‘I know what you’re saying, Linn, but I’m not that sort. I mean, I’d like to live big but I’m just too little. Aren’t I? Aren’t I bound to mess up?’
‘Not bound to. There’s a high chance I’ll admit. But you’re the only one who can see meaning in all them squiggles, so if you don’t try who will?’
Then, to make sure there was no more opposition from Emberd, Linnet went to see him though she shouldn’t have walked so far. When she had regained her breath she told him that Gertie had to go and help those poor people and she wasn’t moving till he admitted that she was right. Emberd conceded. Linnet slid down from the high office chair and wheezed her way back through the library waving at scholars as she went.
The wind changed and Bagla paced the library flapping her wings. She made a great show of eating five tigglers at one sitting. Ede examined her and said that she was fit to go. A copy of the map was made. Gertie wrote a new letter and terrified herself just by putting into words what she was about to do. When Bagla was ready she lifted her tongue while Ede placed the rolls of paper carefully underneath it. Bagla launched from Emberd’s arm, hovered above them and flew away.
Gertie was going on an adventure without sister or friends. Emberd had informed Per, hoping that he would advise against it, but Per had simply said that it was time, which seemed like approval though no one was quite sure. Gertie asked Linnet if she could befriend Emberd and maybe take an interest in his moth books. Linnet genuinely admired his drawings and promised to talk moth with Emberd whenever he felt the need. Ede reassured Gertie that Linnet would have the best possible care.
So Gertie left Nondula with Yehvo in the cool of morning. She wondered what Gritty would say if she knew.
Yehvo kept her plans close. She said if they were caught and terrorgated the less Gertie knew the better. They crossed the scrubluns making for the Gyas Gorge, east of Fort Offel.
During the day the river was busy with logging rafts and meat boats. It was not likely that the Felluns would see them walking the high banks in their grey-green clothes but Yehvo would take no risks. They stepped aside into the forest. Beneath the black pines was instant night. The only things that grew in such dense shade were white fungi. They lived on the rotting needles. Beneath the needle crust were webs of fungal hair and beetles. Gertie came to hate the forest and so did Trotdog. He wove along the edge getting his nose out into the fresher air. Gertie followed him. ‘I’d rather be spotted,’ she said, ‘than walk any longer on mashed mushrooms and beetles. It smells like death in there. And I’m tired of getting my head sanded by tree bark because I can’t see a thing.’ Then Yehvo gave her a talking to and Gertie went back into the false night of the woods.
As they neared the top of the gorge the trees thinned and there was bracken on the ground. The pines gave way to a leafier mix. Among the trees was a rabbit-cropped clearing. The ground was soft and springy, dotted with grassy mounds and shrubs. It was a good place to camp. Gertie was pleased to sit down without the seethe of beetles under her thighs. They strung their canvas between bushes. Yehvo said that someone else would be joining them. She wouldn’t say who it was. They ate and drank and waited. They both loved a story and they were curious about each other. Gertie was young but she had much to tell. Yehvo slapped her thigh and yelped with pleasure when she heard about the escape from Duldred. Then Yehvo entertained Gertie with tales from her own long life. Yehvo was telling a story about her grandmother when Trotty got up from his place at her feet. He stood stiff and trembling, his ears erect. Yehvo put a hand around his muzzle. A woman walked out of the trees.
Yehvo and Gertie stood up. The woman came towards them. She moved with the grace of a wild animal. When she pushed her hood back Gertie blinked at the strength of her face. ‘Where are the others?’ said the woman.
‘
There are no others,’ said Yehvo.
‘Are you telling me she is it?’
‘Ferralee, let me introduce you to Gertie. Does she look familiar to you?’
‘No, but I’ve heard the name. She must be the sister of Grittee.’
‘I am,’ said Gertie holding out her hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. My sister admired you greatly.’
Ferralee ignored Gertie’s hand. ‘You are nothing like Grittee. Your posture is terrible. Where are the others, Yehvo?’
‘We don’t need any others.’
‘We need many others. You said there are eight outlet valves at the dam. We need men to deal with the guards and blasters to destroy the valves.’
‘That was the original plan but thanks to Gertie we can do better than that. We have the means to bring the dam down by ourselves.’
‘Four thousand men built the dam. You’re telling me two women and a child can unbuild it. I have the strength of a man, but you are an old woman and she is not like Grittee. If she can jump the height of her own boot tops I’d be surprised.’
‘Gertie is the sharpest bag of tricks you’ll ever meet. She has worked out what needs to be done.’
Ferralee raised an eyebrow. ‘Your reason rides a feather.’
‘Mine might but hers doesn’t.’
‘Gertie, start building the fire. I’m going to talk to Ferralee,’ said Yehvo.
The women moved out of range. Ferralee gestured throwing patience over her shoulder. Gertie coaxed the sparks till they caught. The fire was blazing when the women returned.
‘Get your papers out, Gertie,’ said Yehvo. ‘Show Ferralee what we mean to do.’
Gertie unpacked her papers. ‘First you need to know what the symbols mean.’ She flicked through her notes. ‘Where’s the page with the key? Don’t tell me I brought the wrong one.’ Ferralee sighed. Gertie shuffled her papers again. Her face grew warm.
‘Take a breath, Gert,’ said Yehvo. ‘Pay no mind to Ferralee. She could make a queen feel like a worm. I’ve told you, you’ve got a brain second to none.’
Gertie found the key and began again. She spoke quickly and not at all clearly, wanting to be done with it. Yehvo made her slow down and repeat things. Gertie showed how the separate steps fed to one point. She stopped and scratched her face. ‘That’s not right. What am I missing?’
‘You haven’t eaten since this morning,’ said Yehvo. ‘Have some food then try again.’ She shared the cold supper and chattered to Ferralee who responded briefly.
Gertie ate slowly. She stopped with her bread half way to her mouth, picked up the papers and hovered over each stage with her charcoal. Then she smiled. ‘That’s it. Here we are.’ The women listened while Gertie went over her workings. ‘Beautiful ain’t it?’ she said when she had finished. Ferralee shook her head. ‘You say that the dam is held together by balance but sense says otherwise. I have heard that every block in the dam is twice the height of a man. How can balance make it stick together with all that weight of water behind it?’
‘She just proved it,’ said Yehvo.
‘All you have shown me is numbers on a page,’ said Ferralee.
‘You must have heard of the Nondulisks,’ said Yehvo. ‘The Arcann made them. I saw some as a child, in a cave above Ponee. It was like magic the way big rocks stood on smaller ones and the whole thing leaned on air. We hardly dared breathe near them in case they toppled.’
‘What are you saying? That the dam is the same? That you’ve only to blow on it and it will come down?’
‘I’m saying that the Arcann could build things to last or not. They were brought in to build the third wall of the fort. It looks set as a mountain doesn’t it? It isn’t. Trotty will tell you.’ She stroked the dog’s head. ‘One time a donkey was standing under Trot’s post slot. He bit its leg to make it move. The donkey kicked out against the wall. The wall cracked all the way up to the window and fell inward.’
‘A bit of wall is hardly a dam,’ said Ferralee.
‘I’ve studied people all my life and I can tell you one certain thing about them,’ said Yehvo. ‘They all have their own patterns of thinking and doing. Once you see how the pattern works you can follow it through to everything they do. The same goes for the Nonduls’ stones, their walls and their dams. Carry on, Gert. Tell Ferralee the best bit.’
‘The Arcann could do just about anything with forces,’ said Gertie. ‘It’s all in their books. They built the dam so that the point of maximum instability is here.’ Gertie marked a cross on the paper. ‘If I’m right all we have to do is find this point and unbalance it somehow.’
‘What did I tell you?’ said Yehvo. ‘She’s a thinker is our Gertie.’
‘That’s not what I’m hearing,’ said Ferralee. ‘I hear ‘if’ and ‘somehow’.’
‘The somehow is blasting powder,’ said Yehvo. ‘My cousin Redbo is the one to see. He’s the Fellun’s top blastman, the only one to have made three names. He won’t be hard to find. I know there’s something to this. The Arcann didn’t want to make that dam. They made it so it could be unmade. Are you with us?’
Ferralee sat regal and silent, but she stayed the night with them and in the morning they left the site together.
8 Wurr Pass
The walking was steep, the air was thin and the food was long gone.
‘I’m the bag of bones I was in Duldred,’ said Gritty, bunching the loose waist of her dress.
‘You’re nowhere near that,’ said Oy.
‘One good thing,’ said Gritty, ‘I got less of a body to feed. I wonder if we should ditch some of these bones we’re carrying. They’re starting to weigh heavy.’
‘No,’ said Alas. ‘Don’t forget it’s money we’re carrying.’
‘How long till we get out of the mountains?’ said Gritty.
‘Too long,’ said Alas. ‘We won’t make it ’less we go down to where the shrubs are. We know we can get berries there and roots maybe.’
‘And Felluns on our tails,’ said Lil.
‘We got to eat, Lil,’ said Gritty. ‘We can’t all survive on rock scrapings.’
‘He can survive on less than that,’ said Lil, ‘You should learn from him.’
They all looked at Oy who sat apart studying the mountainside. He was busy memorising colours. From this part of the journey he would tell Linnet about the lichens: the blue-grey, and the licks of lime and gold. Linnet liked stories best when they were all coloured in.
‘I’ve tried,’ said Gritty, ‘but I never could make a meal out of breathing.’
In the morning there was food. Oy woke with a fish in the crook of his arm. It was pink and silver and half the length of his body. He woke the others and showed them the fish. They stared at it fearfully. Fish did not appear on mountainsides so far from water. Could the hag from Dysma have magicked a poisonous fish to tempt them? Perhaps it was storm drop, but there had been no storm.
‘There’s always a storm somewhere,’ said Gritty. ‘It musta got stranded on a cloud and just slithered off.’
‘Have a sniff, Oy,’ said Alas. ‘Is it good to eat?’
‘It’s fresh and clean,’ said Oy.
So they continued on the high passes taking turns to carry the fish. When they reached a place with enough dry bushes they made a fire and feasted. They sliced what was left and Oy sprinkled it with one of his powders to keep it from spoiling. It would last for the next few days.
After that both food and water ran out. The wind grew strong and sapped their energy. In places it was strong enough to blow them off the path. ‘We’ll have to start down,’ said Alas.
Oy scanned the sky.
‘Are you hoping for another fish?’ said Gritty.
‘Rain’s coming,’ said Oy.
The clouds ate up the last of the blue and the rain began. They found a shelter: a small space overhung by rock on three sides. The rain came fast and heavy. Water poured off the overhang. They filled their flasks. The rain stopped but the water kept on channelling f
rom above, washing down pebbles and an egg. The egg was slate grey with forked markings.
Alas snatched it up. ‘Lucky it didn’t break,’ he said. ‘I’ll climb up and see if there’s more.’
‘It won’t break because the shell is like leather,’ said Lil. ‘And I wouldn’t go looking for more. That’s a blue viper’s egg. It strikes so fast you won’t see it till its fangs are fastened in your flesh. From the puncture outwards you’ll turn to fire and then to stone.’
Gritty twitched and looked behind her.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Lil. ‘Dresh ears are trained from birth for two things, the sound of water and a snake’s belly moving on grit.’
They moved away. Gritty and Alas shared the egg messily. Oy dipped his finger in the yoke. It was enough for him. Lil declined.
From then on they focussed silently on the track and bump, bump, bumped down the steep trail. The lower they got the more plants they saw. They stopped where a bush bearing berries was tucked into the rock face. Alas tried but failed to reach it.
‘Short-arm flanners,’ mocked Lil. ‘Hold me.’
Gritty held Lil’s hand. Oy held Gritty and Alas anchored them all. Lil stretched across the rock face and twisted off the nearest branch. The berries were small and ripe and burst when touched.
Gritty tasted one. ‘Sharp,’ she said,‘but I wouldn’t say no to more.’
As they rounded the next cliff there were many more, a wide band of bushes studded with golden berries. They ate until their stomachs hurt. When they had finished their hands were scratched and their lips were yellow.
It was time to move on. They looked up and they looked down. The choice was between more hard and hungry climbing or a level walk along the pass below. Oy and Gritty wanted to descend. Alas’s jenie swung like a pendulum. ‘Something’s muddling me,’ he said.
‘I’d rather go quick and straight for Linnet’s sake,’ said Oy, ‘but if your jenie says no, we should listen.’
Alas put his hand over his stomach.‘T’aint clear,’ he said. They went down.