Nigma (The Waifs of Duldred Book 3)

by Ana Salote

  ‘What’s her game?’ said Alas.

  ‘Perhaps she’s hurt,’ said Oy.

  ‘We’d better go and see,’ said Alas.

  ‘Birds and flanners,’ grumbled Lil.

  They scrambled down trying not to shower the bird with stones. As they edged towards her, Bagla opened her eyes, spread her wings and flew off. They watched as she settled again, around to the northeast this time. They followed again and again she flew away.

  ‘At this rate she’ll be taking us all the way back to Fellund,’ said Alas.

  ‘We can’t give up,’ said Gritty, ‘she’s got our messages.’

  Lil said she would wring Bagla’s neck if this turned out to be a wild bird chase.

  ‘Bagla’s not playful,’ said Oy. ‘She’s clever and she’s got an eyeview we ain’t got. I’d say she’s leading us away from danger.’

  After that they followed the bird more willingly. The paths twisted one way then the other. There was another rubble slope leading to a cliff face. Bagla perched on the cliff.

  The cliff was not high, no more than four times Lil’s height, but it was short on holds. Gritty mapped her route and started to climb. The balls of her feet were like springs; she stuck to bumps in the rock. She stretched herself from toes to fingertips and made the top in flowing moves.

  There were groans as Bagla flew away again.

  ‘She ain’t gone far,’ Gritty shouted down. ‘Come on up. I’ll talk you through it.’

  Oy was next. After four moves he was stuck. Lil boosted him up the face. ‘That’s it,’ shouted Gritty. ‘You’re doing well. Now the tricky bit. Push off and make it smooth. There’s not enough grip to stop in the middle. Remember when Alas was stuck in the chimney; you told him to think himself slippery. You’ve got to think yourself sticky. Look where the holds are and shout when you’re ready.’

  ‘You can do it, Oy,’ called Alas.

  Oy’s cheek was pressed to the rock. ‘You ready?’ said Gritty. Oy didn’t move. ‘Breathe.’ Gritty waited. ‘You ready now?’ He wasn’t. ‘Oy,’ said Gritty, at last. ‘Your arms and legs will just get tireder hanging there.’

  Oy turned his face upwards. He made the move. His arms were too weak and his legs too short. One foot slipped and scraped down the rock. Somehow he regained his first position.

  ‘Hang on. I’m coming,’ said Alas.

  ‘You can’t help,’ said Lil. ‘Avert.’ She tucked the hem of her skirt into her belt. Her arms and legs spread widely over the rock. Her long fingers found holds the others couldn’t reach. She passed to one side of Oy and waved away Gritty’s helping hand. With a look of deep annoyance she pulled herself up and took off her jacket. The sleeves were very long. She lay on her stomach and hung it over the edge. Gritty held Lil and Lil held the jacket and Oy grasped the other end of the jacket and so he was hauled to the top of the cliff.

  Alas wiped the sweat from his eyes and followed. They gathered at the top. Bagla perched in a stunted tree. She did not move away.

  ‘I think this might be it,’ said Gritty. ‘Shall we wet our mouths before we look around?’

  ‘Smell that,’ said Oy happily. ‘Bread – and not the sort made of dust or crickets.’

  Alas got to his feet dislodging a rock. It rolled down to the scree: chock-chock- chock. Bagla flapped and rustled behind them. Something was moving among the bushes. The waifs stood, primed to run. Out came Clair.

  Oy and Gritty shouted her name. Oy ran to her, locked himself to her waist and talked into her dress. ‘I thought you were dead.’

  Clair replied in song-like Nondulan. Gritty attached herself to Clair’s other side. Alas put one arm around all of them briefly. Lil stood by, a fleeting softness on her face.

  ‘Whatever has brought you here?’ said Clair.

  ‘We found Linnet’s yellow,’ said Oy. ‘It’s called Lellick airyfluss. You were right; it’s in a book about kingfishers. There’s not much here, but there’s lots in Affland so I’m going back to get some. And Lil there, she’s going home to Craicanmar, and Alas and Gritty are going back to help our friends.’

  ‘Lellick airyfluss,’ said Clair. ‘Now I remember. You’ve much more to tell I’m sure, but first, bread. You’ve gotten thin again. It won’t do.’

  ‘Bread,’ Gritty sighed. ‘We’ve been living on sour berries and crickets’ elbows.’

  ‘Let’s put that right shall we?’ said Clair. ‘I can’t feed you the way I’d like. Oh, for some haw and gelder.’

  ‘And dandidrew,’ said Oy.

  ‘Dandidrew’ said Clair, clasping her hands wishfully. ‘I’m not alone. Come and meet Derridae. The others are out hunting herbs.’

  Beyond the bushes was a row of caves. Weathered planks narrowed the entrances against wind and rain. ‘It’s an old Chee settlement,’ said Clair. ‘We’ve made it into a healing camp. There’s a lot of sickness among the Chee in the valley.’

  A Nondul woman cradled a baby in the sun. ‘This is Derridae and a starved Chee baby. We’ll give him back when he is plumped.’

  Clair pulled some loaves from a rock oven. She just happened to have made extra. The waifs laughed. It was a mystery how Clair always made the right amount of bread at the right time. They ate with great appetite. ‘Not bad for make-do bread,’ said Alas.

  Lil only ever ate bread as a last resort, but this bread was made from the rock plants she liked. She was converted.

  When they had eaten, two more Nonduls returned. Clair introduced Adar and Orys. Adar was Clair’s sister and the mother of Ede.

  ‘Ede’s ma!’ Gritty jumped up and down. ‘Won’t she be happy to have you back? We got a map if you don’t know the way.’

  ‘We know the way,’ said Adar, ‘but the Chee need us here. Ede will understand.’

  ‘You know best,’ said Gritty, ‘but it’s a shame you can’t send word that you’re alive.’

  ‘They can,’ said Oy, ‘Bagla.’

  At the sound of her name Bagla came to them. She waddled up to Oy and opened her beak. Oy pulled out the message.

  ‘It’s got hawk feathers stuck to it,’ said Gritty.

  ‘And fish scales,’ said Oy. ‘The fish – was it you, Bagla, that brung it? I’ll bet it was.’

  Alas unpacked the pen and ink and Oy decoded the message. His expression changed as he wrote. Alas and Gritty watched trying to read his face. When he was done he read:

  ‘Linnet starts off:

  I’m very well indeed, so don’t any of you waste your wits thinking of me – speshly you, Oy. I help Ede with the animals and I paint with Emberd. It is my favourite thing. Ede lets me mix up colours, but not too many blues. I have seen Emberd’s moth pictures and I want to do the same with butterflies, as long as the butterflies don’t mind. Gert is very good. Her somin is next to mine now. She brings books and we read a story every night. Only now she is going away. But that’s alright. Like the rest of you she’s got more important things to do.’

  ‘What’s that about?’ said Gritty, looking worried.

  ‘Sh,’ said Alas. ‘We’ll find out.’

  Oy read on:

  I spect you’d given up on Bagla. She was tired after her last big trip. Emberd didn’t want to let her go again but Bagla let us know she was ready. I only hope she finds you. Ede says she is a very clever bird. I must leave some space for Gert. Thinking of you always dear friends.

  ‘Now it’s Gertie:

  I won’t repeat what Linnet has said, except to say it’s all true. She is as well as she says so no need to worry.

  Now there are two important things to tell you. First is, we think we found your passage under the storm wall. Look at your map and match it with my drawing. It’s from a story book, but Emberd says it’s a true traveller’s map.

  The second thing is someone has been to see me. She has asked me to do something. It’s not a small or an easy thing, but she’s sure I can do it. Gritty, you shouldn’t have talked me up like that. I daren’t write what it is in this simple code. I am goi
ng to put it in a harder code and trust to your brains to work it out.

  ‘She carries on in this other code,’ Oy explained. He handed the paper round.

  ‘Someone’s asked her to do something, and I shouldn’t have talked her up. What does that mean? Let me see.’ Gritty puzzled over the message. She sighed. ‘That’s Gert for you. She thinks we all got brains like hers. When it comes to something like this we ain’t.’

  ‘We’ll work it out,’ said Clair. ‘First have your fill. You’ll think more clearly then.’

  While they finished the food Clair told her own story. She had been washed out of the midden gate and downriver for many druns. The river ran east to the far edges of Fellund. Eventually she had washed up against a sluice gate. Barely alive she had climbed out. When she had breath to stand she made for the nearby forest to rest and heal herself. The first tree on the forest path was scratched with signs in Nondulan. Other survivors had passed that way. The tree was the first marker leading all the way to the healing camp.

  Adar took over. ‘There were others here when I arrived, but they were near to death. They had been treating lopsy among the Chee. They caught the fever themselves. I was too late to help them and they died. They are buried there; see where the bird sits by the balance stones. My dear friend, Vera, is among them and two of my cousins.’

  Bagla began to clack. No one had ever heard her make a sound before. Now she came to Oy clacking loudly.

  Adar reached across and touched Oy. ‘You must follow her,’ she said.

  Bagla chirped. She led Oy to the graveside and lowered her breast onto the mound. Then she flew to his shoulders and went through a series of extraordinary moves. She seized his neck in her beak as if she was trying to swallow him. She flapped some distance away and repeated her actions as though acting out clues in a guessing game.

  Adar went to the grave. She knelt on the ground next to Bagla and stroked the bird’s head to calm it. She whispered to her in Nondulan and then with chirping sounds.

  ‘Adar has a jenie for talking to animals,’ said Clair.

  ‘Like Ede,’ said Gritty, ‘but Bagla would never answer her.’

  ‘That’s because she didn’t want to,’ said Adar. ‘She’s ready now.’

  Bagla’s lids closed one set at a time. Her body relaxed. Adar kept her hand on Bagla’s head. Everything was quiet and still. After a while Adar began to whisper again. Bagla raised her lids. There was shame in her eyes. Bagla’s legs folded. Her wings splayed on the ground. Her neck and beak lay stretched out in front. She appeared to be in a state of collapse.

  Adar kept on whispering and waiting. At last she spoke in Nondulan and repeated in the common. ‘I see.’

  Adar returned to the oven hearth. A circle formed around her. They waited while she chose her words. ‘What Bagla has shown me is simply this: Oy is the child of Vera.’

  Oy was sitting cross-legged, focused on the tufts of green between his knees. He heard his name and lifted his face to Adar as though he could not understand what she was saying.

  The Nondul faces around him wore surprised and beautiful smiles. The waifs’ were blank with disbelief. ‘What?!’ said Gritty. ‘How?’

  ‘When I arrived here, Vera was already sick. She mentioned a lost child in her ravings. I thought she was troubled by the death of a Chee child, one she had failed to save. I never thought she meant her own babe.

  ‘Bagla has told me that Vera’s baby was sleeping out here in the sun. Bagla came and stole him.’ Bagla hid her head under her wing. ‘She was once a tower pelican at Fort Offel. The Felluns send the pelicans out to steal babies.’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Gritty. ‘I saw it, little hands and feet inside the beak bags.’

  ‘Bagla was out hunting babies in the islands off East Fellund.’

  ‘The tribes there have some Fellun blood,’ said Derridae. ‘They can pass for Felluns given the right food.’

  Adar nodded. ‘A storm blew Bagla off course. If she returned empty-beaked the Felluns would smash her eggs. She came here and saw a baby lying in a hay nest. She stole him and flew with him to Fellund.’

  Oy held his forehead and closed his eyes. ‘In my dreams there’s always been shadows and voices and faces I was too afraid to look into. I see ’em now. I remember... I remember her – the Fellun woman. Gastrict her name was. I never wanted her for a mother and she wouldn’t have me as her child. I was too little and weak for her. She was ’shamed of me. I couldn’t keep liver down or any kind of blood. I wouldn’t turn Fellun or anything like. She sent me away on a hunting boat. The boat was wrecked. I washed up in Affland. I hid behind a bakery and there I stayed. The sea water had been through my mouth and eyes and ears so many times it must’ve washed my mind away.’

  ‘If that ain’t the most ’stonishing thing I ever heard,’ said Gritty. ‘Any child would be scared witless with a nurse like Ogreen and a ma like Gastrict. No wonder you wiped it out.’

  ‘Bagla,’ said Oy. He got up and went to embrace the bird. ‘Where’s your head?’

  Bagla uncovered her eyes but kept her beak under her wing. ‘It’s alright. You only did it to save your chicks. Anyone would do the same.’

  Gritty and Alas came forward. ’Course they would,’ said Gritty.

  ‘You done us all manner of service,’ Alas said. ‘You saved all our lives. It was you that brought the fish when we were near starving wasn’t it? And I believe it was you that got Bruin to help us. Am I right?’ Bagla straightened her neck. ‘And then you brought us here, so no more shame. You’ve paid us back twice over.’

  Oy crouched next to her and stroked her head. ‘It’s true, Bagla dear,’ he said.

  Bagla rose and inflated. Her sagging face was too far gone to unsag but the heaviness lifted. Her eyes were unveiled and bright. She leaned her head into Oy’s neck and went with him to the graveside. He put his arm around her and they sat together. Oy put one hand on the mound. ‘Mother,’ he said.

  Clair whispered to the others to come away.

  Alas told the Nonduls the rest of the news. Then they tried to break Gertie’s code and began writing messages for Bagla to take back to Nondula.

  The Nonduls each wrote a line to their families. Alas gave a summary of their travels. Gritty chastised Gertie for being so mysterious:

  ‘So far you got us stumped with this code so all I can say is don’t go putting yourself in any danger. I don’t care who the someone is or what they say. If it’s too dangerous to write about then it’s too dangerous for you to do. You ain’t cut out for danger. Stick to reading and thinking.’

  She read it back to herself. ‘I wrote danger an awful lot,’ she said. ‘It makes a pattern in the letters.’ She had an idea and looked at Gertie’s message again. ‘Here’s a word that comes up a few times. It starts with a capital so it’s a name. It’s someone who’s heard me praising Gert – could be Yehvo. It’s someone who don’t mind danger or leading others into it – it must be Yehvo. So if the ‘S’s are ‘Y’s and the ‘G’s are ‘E’s...’ Gritty thought hard and scribbled out the new code. ‘No, that’s not right; I thought I had it. I got to think like Gert, what would she do? She’d make it special to us.’ Gritty tapped the paper with the quill. While the others talked she kept on puzzling.

  Adar wanted to know more about Duldred. Alas told about their lives, the work and the hunger. He didn’t want pity and laughed wryly as he talked about survivin’ ways and how Raymun couldn’t keep number eight in his head.

  ‘Why would you laugh about that?’ said Lil. ‘There are worse things to be missing than eights.’

  Gritty was suddenly animated. She waved the quill in the air. ‘Missing eights,’ she said. Everyone watched as she began to write quickly. ‘That’s it!’ she said. ‘It’s the same code as before but she takes out the eighth letters, h, p and x, and makes them R1, R2 and – looks like she had no use for an x.’

  ‘What does she say?’ said Alas.

  ‘Hang on.’ The translation took some
time. Gritty commented as she wrote. ‘Oh my! Oh no, not my Gert. She can’t be off adventuring like that, not without me to look out for her.’ She finished and read the message out loud.

  ‘That’s a mad plan,’ said Alas. ‘Is Yehvo in her right senses?’

  ‘I don’t think sense comes into it,’ said Gritty. ‘Yehvo’s got a fire in her and she follows it, but this is like to burn her up, and Gertie with her.’

  Gritty scrapped her first message and wrote in stronger terms forbidding Gertie to do anything more venturesome than lift a book.

  ‘It’s a bit late for that,’ said Alas. ‘Think how long the message took to get to us. Gert and Yehvo will be long gone.’

  ‘Oh, Lor,’ Gritty put the pen down.

  Oy left the graveside. He went to the Chee baby where it lay in its hay nest. He stroked its cheek and held its hand. Then he came back to the hearth. He wrote his news to Linnet simply. He told her that she was right after all: he was a real person and he once had a mother.

  Later Clair told Oy everything she could about his mother and father. Like all the Nonduls, Vera and Coryne were gentle people. The Felluns had taken them both. Like Clair, Vera had survived the Akwon. Coryne had not. His broken body was caught in the nets. Oy’s parents had been different from most scholars. They had wanted to go out into the world with their healing. Vera had lived her dream if only for a short time.

  Over the next few days Bagla was spoiled and fussed by everyone. She was done with sulks and she kept her eyes open. Baby feathers began to sprout on her bald patches. When she was fully rested she set off back to Nondula with the messages. Gritty asked her to look out for Gertie on the way.

  The waifs, too, were almost ready to leave.

  Clair had one more thing to tell Oy. ‘I’ve kept it till now to give you thinking space,’ she said. ‘Oy, your grandparents are still living.’

  Oy’s pale face turned paler. ‘Are they in Nondula?’ he asked.