Sanguine

by Carolyn Denman

  After a few silent moments, Noah stood up and hugged Dallmin, and then me.

  ‘I stand corrected,’ he apologised. His eyes were full of affection as he helped Tessa up from the couch. She was still sobbing too hard to talk and she made my shoulder all wet when she hugged me. As Noah helped her off to bed, Dallmin flicked me a quick signal. Well sung. Joy-giver needs a new game.

  The trip to Bright was uneventful. Seriously. Pretty boring. By the fourth hour even Dallmin’s excitement was starting to wear off as he told us the story, again, of how Sergeant Loxwood had helped them round up some loose sheep the day before, while Bane and I were in town with his mum. Dallmin seemed confused as to why the sheep hadn’t known what was wanted, and why we wanted them to be in a particular paddock anyway, and why the policeman had spent the whole time talking to Noah instead of standing in the right spot to block the sheep.

  ‘Seems strange that Nicole would have left a gate open,’ I said. Had she done it to annoy me? It sounded like something she would have done to get Noah and me into trouble when we were younger, but hadn’t she grown out of that? And this time I wasn’t the one who’d had to fix it.

  ‘You haven’t noticed anyone else around lately, have you? You know, in the state park?’ Bane asked. One wrist was hanging casually over the steering wheel, but he shot me a concerned look.

  ‘No, not really. Just someone near the river when we had our swim yesterday. Someone fishing, probably. Not a threat to the Garden.’

  Bane frowned.

  ‘Unlikely that a fisherman would wander through our place leaving gates open,’ I said, not wanting to point out that it was more likely to have been Nicole.

  ‘Maybe Dallmin didn’t hook a gate latch on properly,’ Bane suggested.

  I turned to see Dallmin’s reaction to the idea he might have stuffed up, but he was busy looking out at the scenery. Good. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for anything he did. He was innocent. I happily let the subject drop, and studied the scenery with him.

  The landscape got prettier as we headed towards the High Country, but compared to Eden it wasn’t all that impressive. It used to be my favourite place on the planet. Now it was boring. Luckily, Bane had a good selection of songs to listen to, so he educated us on the best of each genre of music that he had on his play list. He started us with classical and moved through jazz, folk and indie pop, even throwing in some grunge and heavy metal. Dallmin loved it all. If we ever got him home he would have a lot of new ideas to share. I smiled at the idea of the jolly elf-people experimenting with screamo. As it turned out, Dallmin could rap with the best of them, even if he did cheat and throw in other languages to make it rhyme better. It was the first time hip-hop had ever made me laugh until I cried. Eden humour was the best.

  It was well and truly dark by the time we reached Bright. After introducing Dallmin to the delights of a decent lamb souvlaki, we found the hotel and I spent a few minutes making it very clear to Dallmin that he would probably not enjoy experimenting with the contents of his mini bar. Alcohol was not a complication we needed. Finally, tomorrow, he would fly and then hopefully I could send him home. And what then? Was I really going to stay on this side of the Event Horizon? I looked at Bane as he rummaged in his bag for his toothbrush. Yes, I was. I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t going to let anything divert me from doing everything I could to make Bane happy. And I was finally confident about what that would be.

  There was a kind of sassiness in the way the wind whipped at the trees, as if it was trying to flick each one free of the glistening raindrops that clung to their heavy leaves. The flight instructor crossed his arms and frowned.

  ‘It will settle soon,’ I assured him. I gazed across the panorama, watching flocks of lorikeets criss-cross the valley, gathering their energy now that the sun was out again. Everywhere I looked there was evidence of human intervention. Shaved patches of winter paddocks stretched out across the base of the valley, dotted with clusters of tiny white rooftops, while the hills were slashed with tan-coloured dirt roads that linked the geometric patches of pine plantations. In the distance, the snow-laden squashed dome of Mt Buffalo held firm. Brutish and untameable. Yet, in just a few more weeks there would be enough snow for its slopes to be infected with a plague of happy snowboarders, wiggling downhill like slippery fish.

  The human scars were disturbing, but it was still pretty. Almost as good as the view over my valley—from this side of the Boundary, anyway. Yet, coming to stand beside me, Dallmin didn’t seem to agree. He’d stopped inspecting the seams on the glider sails and had been pacing along the cleared part of the ridge, clearly disturbed by something in the view.

  ‘How many of these big cities are there?’ he asked me. ‘I have now seen Horsham, and Nalong, and now Bright. We also passed through many others. How long does each city remain before you put things back the way they were?’

  It was Bane who filled in the gap when I couldn’t bring myself to answer. ‘We don’t. The people need somewhere to live, Dallmin. We can’t survive here without shelter, and there just wouldn’t be enough food for us all if we didn’t grow it ourselves. This is what it takes.’

  ‘Surely there would be enough for everyone if you just spread out more. Maybe you don’t realise how much world there is? Are you aware there are other lands across the waters? I could teach you how to cross the seas if you like.’

  Luckily the flight instructor was chatting to his assistant and didn’t hear the strange comment.

  ‘We’ve mapped the entire planet, Dallmin,’ Bane explained. ‘And we’ve spread out to every land. We already trade resources between countries … to an extent.’

  ‘Are you saying there are even more of these cities than the ones I’ve already seen?’

  ‘These are just small towns. The cities are—’

  ‘Maybe we should just let him enjoy this one day,’ I interrupted. ‘I think they’re almost ready.’

  We had waited impatiently for almost three hours for the conditions to settle, until the drizzle finally looked like it had passed for the day. The tour operators had eventually agreed to meet us on the ridge and said we should be good to go, and they had made all the initial preparations but were still a little hesitant. At least it had given us time to get the paperwork sorted. Dallmin had signed his name on the disclaimer beautifully—in an unknown flowing script.

  I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on my logic. Dallmin’s innocent comments were inevitably going to spark some curious questions from people, and he seemed to have no problems talking about Eden. That could be disastrous. He needed to go home as soon as possible to keep the Garden safe. The sooner he flew the better. I needed the wind to die down a little. Eden needed the wind to die down, so I began to whisper. Words bubbled up from deep inside my soul. They didn’t feel very powerful and I had absolutely no control over them but I was hoping it would be enough. I was trying to settle the restless wind down. Surely that wouldn’t take as much power as calling the storm had?

  A taste, like I was touching something metal with the very tip of my tongue, as an un-earthly language formed itself around my human-shaped voice. Authority and untapped resource filled my chest. Mine to call, and mine to use, because it was needed. Threads of thunder, just waiting for me to form the right phrases. It felt natural, and yet so overwhelming. Scary, for sure.

  The launch assistant whistled softly through his moustache. ‘Wow, it’s really dropped away now. It’s become as still as a frozen pond. Might make it tricky to read the air currents if it stays like this.’ He plucked at his lower lip, studying the conditions.

  Oops, too much. I tried to be more subtle, playing with the feel of the breeze. Maybe messing too much with the wind wasn’t such a good idea, I didn’t want it to become too unnatural. The last time we had messed with the weather, Noah and I had drawn in a massive storm front, enough to quench a bushfire in the height of summer. That
wouldn’t be at all helpful here. Noah would have got it right. Was that how they had won the competition? No, it had nothing to do with Eden so he wouldn’t have been able to. Although, as I concentrated, I thought I could sense the difference between the cold and warm air pockets. Similar to how I had sensed the life around me while I was in the river. If Noah had also developed an affinity for the weather since calling the storm, that had to have been an advantage in his sport.

  Bane was watching me with an amused expression. His look of adoration completely distracted me and I lost the tenuous hold I had on the weather. It didn’t matter. The operators were smiling and moving the glider into position.

  Dallmin looked confident and business-like. Luckily, being long-lived meant that he could be incredibly patient when the situation called for it, even though I knew how excited he was. He let the flight instructor and assistant secure the double harness, his keen eyes taking in every detail of the procedure, and then he donned his helmet, throwing me a cheeky smile. Unnecessary as he thought it was, he knew everyone wanted him to wear it. Finally everything was ready. It was time for the jolly elf to fly.

  His yodel of celebration echoed throughout the valley, startling three flocks of birds out of the trees below. The launch assistant put his hands on his hips and laughed at the obvious unbridled enjoyment the strange young man was having. I felt a slight surge of jealousy. Watching them take off brought back the wondrous memory of my first real look at the Garden of Eden. What an incredibly life-changing experience that had been. The actual, real Garden of Eden, in all its glory. Not only that, but the flight itself had been astounding. How could I have felt so thrilled and relaxed at the same time? How could it feel so peculiar and yet almost natural? And why the hokey hadn’t I thought to ask Noah to book me in for a flight as well?

  A warm hand with a firm grip found mine when I moved closer to the edge to watch the glider’s spiralling dance. If that worried him, it was a good thing Bane hadn’t seen some of the things I’d been up to in Eden.

  We could still hear Dallmin’s cries as they morphed into song. It sounded like he was praising the world for giving him such a good time, and I wondered what his instructor must have been thinking. Unnoticed tension in my body began to melt away as I watched them search out the thermal pockets. His obsession with seeing what the birds saw would finally be appeased. As soon as he was back home I had no doubt that his ‘experiments’ would continue, but that was no problem. At least he had some more information to work with now.

  My bodyguard held me securely around my waist while we watched the glider circle the valley. His sweet breath tickled my ear, sending a delicate shiver down my spine. I smiled. There would be time for flying. Time for travelling and exploring all the good things of this world, and I could do it all with Bane. Noah had assured me he’d managed to avoid the lethargy that came with being away from Nalong by taking bottles of river water on his honeymoon, and had given me some innovative tips on how to explain the stash to airport security. My whole life was ahead of me and I knew what I wanted out of it. Visits to Eden would still be possible, but my heart was with Bane.

  The flight lasted for almost an hour, much longer than they usually anticipated. Apparently Dallmin had some good insights for the instructor as to how to pick the best thermals to chase, giving them extra lifts. She told us he was a natural, although I think it had more to do with the hundreds of years he had obsessed over bird flight. During the car trip Dallmin had revealed that he used to jump off cliffs into the ocean regularly, with a piece of Fruit in each hand, so flying had obviously been a fixation of his for a very long time. No wonder he had noticed Noah and I arriving in Eden.

  After he was extricated from the harness, he shared his exuberance by hugging every living thing in sight, including the flight instructor’s Labrador. No one seemed to find it strange, they were probably used to crazy tourists and their boisterous behaviour, and luckily he remembered to keep the kissing to a minimum.

  ‘An eagle flew with us!’ he exclaimed as he gathered me into a bone-crushing embrace. ‘It was so close I could look in its eyes. I could see what it saw … and it was looking at me!’

  I am so happy for you, my friend! Now you have grown up a little bit more because you have experienced something new. I can see the joy in your eyes and it makes me smile. Out loud I said, ‘I think we should celebrate. This is an important day for you and those should always be celebrated.’

  The flight instructor clapped him on the shoulder. ‘So what’s next for you, Dallmin? I have some brochures on some other activities in this area if you’re interested?’

  ‘No!’ I cried. That was the last thing we needed.

  Bane interjected more politely. ‘Maybe some other time, thank you. Unfortunately we’re on a bit of a tight schedule, this trip.’

  The guy nodded and continued to pack up.

  ‘Come on, let’s find some lunch,’ Bane suggested. ‘I expect even your celebrations involve eating something.’

  A little while later when we had just used a slice of pizza to entice Dallmin away from entering a middle-aged couple’s caravan, Bane’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen before handing it to me. ‘Noah,’ he mumbled around his mouthful of barbeque chicken. I answered it, but didn’t get a chance to even say hello.

  ‘I need you b..back here, n..now,’ Noah stammered. ‘Tessa’s missing!’

  Chapter 28

  Bane switched to speaker phone so we could all hear what Noah was saying as we binned the pizza and rushed for the car. I could hear him sobbing on the other end. I had never heard him so upset.

  ‘Are you sure, Noah? This is very important, tell me exactly what happened,’ Bane instructed in a detached tone. All emotion had fled from his face and he sounded like a policeman.

  ‘The front door was left open and Tessa isn’t here. Anywhere. There’s a note on the kitchen table.’

  It felt as if the world had suddenly come into sharp focus. The air was crisper, the sounds of cars and birds and dogs all louder. Bane’s fingers, where he clutched his phone—I could almost see the bones through his skin. There’s a note …

  Noah choked out another sob, unable to speak, but then took a couple of short breaths and tried again. ‘I got a message last night from someone wanting to buy some stock, and I told him Lily and I would come into town to meet him this morning. The guy never showed. We hung around anyway to order that part for the tractor and buy some other stuff. When we came back, the gate and the front door were both wide open and there was a note on the table.’ His voice was shaking.

  ‘Read it to me. Word for word,’ Bane instructed.

  ‘It says …’ He made a frustrated sound. ‘I’m sorry, it’s a bit hard to speak it out.’ He exhaled sharply. ‘It says, “Tessa will be returned safely as soon as she tells me the … secrets you’re keeping.” That’s all. Nothing else.’

  The swearing that came out of Bane’s mouth was even worse than that time in Year 9 when I’d covered his text books with My Little Pony stickers, but he soon pulled himself together to respond. ‘Noah, stay calm. Is there any blood, or signs of a struggle?’

  ‘No. I’ve looked around. Our … our bedroom’s a mess. More than usual, I mean. I think someone was looking for something. Or maybe she packed in a hurry … wait, no. Her suitcase is still here. None of the other rooms are disturbed. Is that good? She wouldn’t have used the defence skills you taught her if it would risk the baby at all. Not unless there was a risk to me.’

  Bane let out a relieved sigh. ‘Good. That’s good. Where have you looked so far? Outside and in the sheds?’

  ‘I had a quick look. There’s nothing. Lily’s checking again now.’

  ‘Can you tell me if she took her boots?’

  ‘Boots?’ There was a pause, and then the familiar creak and thunk of the back door being slammed open. ‘No, her boots are still here.’

&n
bsp; ‘Is her raincoat still there? Jumpers?’

  ‘Yeah, her coat’s still on its peg.’ I could hear Noah moving around as he went to check. ‘The clothes are harder to tell, they’re all over the place.’

  ‘Okay, don’t worry about that. It seems unlikely that she would have been taken out into the bush without her coat and boots. That’s better, I think. There should be more chance of someone seeing her if they stay in or near a town.’ He rubbed his forehead as he tried to think. ‘How much time do you think has passed since she left? Maximum?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ His voice had that panicked edge to it, like when he’d called one morning to warn me about a fire … ‘We left for town at around nine,’ he said. ‘So if she was taken soon after that, maybe four hours? Wait, her cup is in the sink. She doesn’t usually have coffee until morning tea time because she still feels a bit queasy first thing. There are coffee dregs in it, so she was still here around ten. Three hours, max.’

  Noah and Bane were both thinking far more clearly than I was.

  ‘All right. Call the police. If you don’t it’ll only make things more complicated. Lily can show them the note and explain about the coffee. They’ll be able to help.’ He looked at me as if for support, bracing himself for his next words. ‘Noah, listen to me. You have to leave. You have to get to Eden as fast as you can. We’re on our way home but you can’t wait for us. You have to break the link. We don’t know how far away she is from you.’ There was silence on the other end as Bane’s words sank in. ‘Please, Noah, you have to trust me. We’ll find her, but she and the baby won’t cope well with separation illness. You have to go now.’