Sanguine

by Carolyn Denman

  Suddenly Bane flinched, knocking the roll of gauze from Tim’s hand as he spun around to glare at Noah, who had been studying the evil apple core where it sat in its bowl. The bandage unravelled across the floor, collecting dust and cat hair as it skittered away.

  Noah met Bane’s eyes boldly, his expression defiant. ‘Probably testing the base of the cliff,’ he said cryptically.

  Tim looked from one to the other but they completely ignored him. A few seconds later the tension eased, and Bane unclenched his fists again. Before Tim could ask what was going on, Lily distracted him with another question.

  ‘What about Dallmin? Should we try to call him and tell him what’s happened? You bought him a phone, didn’t you, Bane?’ she asked, handing Tessa a glass of water. Bane glared furiously into space and didn’t answer her.

  It was Tessa who broke the awkward silence, clearing her throat as she adjusted her clothes to feed her son. ‘Dallmin found Jake, and showed Bane where he had set up camp, but when they got there he … Jake attacked Bane, and Dallmin …’ She puffed out an angry sigh. ‘Dallmin’s the one who knocked Bane out. I still don’t understand why.’ It was obvious that there was more to it than that, and yet she seemed to be unwilling to share any more details, or perhaps she didn’t know.

  Tim’s mind reeled. Dallmin attack Bane? Attack anyone? That seemed so unlikely, and yet it would explain how the most skilled fighter he knew had ended up tied to a tree. He would never have been able to predict having Dallmin turn on him. No wonder he looked so furious. Lily looked ready to burst into tears again, but held herself together as she retrieved the ice pack from Bane’s slack grasp and held it against the lump on his skull.

  The burly sergeant came back into the kitchen. ‘Are you ready for me to call the coroner now?’ he asked. He really was a very considerate man.

  ‘Just … give us another half an hour,’ Noah said, glancing at Bane again and then biting his lower lip.

  Once again his grief-stricken friend was holding his breath, his eyes fixated on nothing in particular, every muscle quivering with tension. Moments later he sighed, stood up and started pacing between the table and the window, scowling at Noah every few seconds like he was trying not to yell at him.

  ‘It’s not my fault!’ Noah countered. ‘She’s always been stubborn. She’ll give up soon enough, there’s no way through. It’s a solid wall of rock from one end of the valley to the other.’ He glanced at Tim and swallowed, like he had something sour in his mouth, and then continued. ‘Uncle checked pretty thoroughly for caves or tunnels. There are a few uneven places in the rock face where she and I can cross, but they’re all dead ends. It’s a good system. Unless she can fly up the cliff, there’s nothing she can do other than pop in and out briefly from time to time, and she knows better than to do that to you without knowing where you are. This is just her way of letting you know she’s not happy, surely you have to expect that. Put the ice back on your head before Tim starts nagging again, and please don’t make me talk any more. It’s making me feel really queasy.’

  Obediently Bane complied, sitting down again and ignoring the inquiring stare that Tim was directing at him. Tim had no idea who or what they were talking about, or why were they still reluctant to call the coroner.

  Suddenly Bane shot out of the chair like a rocket, growling. ‘She’s hurt. What the hell is she trying to do?’

  ‘Hurt how?’ Lily asked, rudely trying to push Tim back towards the door, but he stood his ground. Something was going on and he was damned if he was going to meekly hide in the other room without finding out what it was. Respect for family customs was one thing, but something else was clearly going on here, something that was causing his best friend to ignore his own basic medical needs.

  ‘Her hands and feet are bleeding, her shoulder’s badly bruised and she’s exhausted. She shouldn’t be. Her muscles shouldn’t be seizing up like that. What’s she doing, Noah?’

  Noah shrugged and shook his head, and Tessa groaned. ‘My guess is she’s climbing,’ she suggested. ‘She has nothing to lose because she can’t really get hurt, it just might take her a while.’

  Noah cracked up, his open bellowing laugh taking them all by surprise. ‘Should have known. This is typical of her. Did I ever tell you about the time Lily tried to ground her for nicking her credit card details?’ He smiled, shoving the bowl with the apple core away negligently. ‘Let’s just say it didn’t work. She snuck out and walked all the way into Nalong so she could post a letter, just to prove a point. She was ten. It took her the entire day to get there. Lily was terrified, she had all of us and two other local families tearing the farms and bush apart searching for her.’

  Lily flicked him with the tea towel. ‘You could have told us where she was.’

  ‘Not worth my life. She would have laced my food with salt. When I least expected it. Repeatedly. For months.’

  ‘Wait. You’re all talking about Lainie?’ Tim interjected, confused. Everyone in the room turned to stare at him. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand. Are we telling stories to remember her by, or is something else going on?’

  Noah looked over at his wife, who in turn looked at Lily, who shrugged. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve got nothing. It’s someone else’s turn to think of something to tell him, although it sounds like it won’t do us any good now anyway.’ Her voice sounded a little miffed, but she had a smile she couldn’t quite hide.

  Bane pulled his hand from his pocket again and ran his fingers through his blood-encrusted hair instead. He couldn’t seem to stay still. ‘Can she do it?’ he asked. ‘How high is that cliff?’

  ‘Even if I could spit the words out, you really wouldn’t want to know. Then again, she has all the time in the world to tackle it,’ Noah replied.

  Bane sat back down in the chair, looking defeated. He leant his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. ‘Is there nothing you can do to stop her?’

  ‘Nothing I can think of. She’s got her own way of doing things, mate. You should know that by now.’

  Lily handed Tim a small glass of clear liquid. Sniffing it, he looked at her, confused. ‘Vodka,’ she admitted. ‘It sounds like you’re about to have a really interesting day.’

  Hours passed and the coroner still had not been called. Three times Bane had tried to leave, but he’d wanted to take a dirt bike and there was no way Tim was going to let him do that.

  ‘What are you going to do, throw her a rope?’ Noah challenged the grieving man.

  ‘Of course not. I don’t want her to make it all the way up.’

  ‘Yeah you do. Admit it.’

  Pacing restlessly back to the kitchen window again, Bane clutched the edge of the sink. ‘I don’t know what to do. Why does she have to be so stubborn?’

  Tim had given up trying to ask. Nothing made any sense. There was a dead body in the other room with a police sergeant guarding it and no coroner. There had been a phone call from the Ashbrees in which he had heard Lily lie outright when she told them that Lainie was resting and was fine. Bane and Noah were both periodically having synchronised fits of sudden tension, and then relaxing again a minute later. He was missing something important, but he couldn’t work out what it was and no one was willing to talk to him.

  Finally, as the afternoon shadows began to lengthen on what was one of the longest, saddest and strangest days of his life, Tim was finally given a slight reprieve.

  ‘I think she might make it this time,’ Noah declared, leaning over to kiss his wife on the forehead as she cuddled their sleeping baby son in the overstuffed armchair. ‘We might as well go and meet her or else she’ll be crawling down the ridge in the dark. Sorry, Bane, she’s won.’ He didn’t look sorry.

  Tessa grinned back at him while Bane bolted out the door. ‘I’d love to be there to hear what she’s got to say,’ she said, ‘but I’m not really up to dirt-biking right now. W
hatever happens, don’t let them do anything I want to be there for,’ she called out as Noah went to grab his and Lainie’s jackets from the hook by the back door. Tim grabbed his own jacket and started to follow him out, but then Noah turned and blocked the doorway with his arms. Something about his eyes looked intense, like he was trying to discern Tim’s innermost secrets.

  ‘I’m not going to let Bane ride on his own in his state,’ Tim insisted. ‘His bike can take two of us. Wherever he’s going, I’ll drive him.’

  ‘Are you a good man, Tim?’

  A good man? A strange question for a strange day, but there was no avoiding those vivid green eyes. Lainie had been in his care. Now she was dead. Was he a good man?

  ‘That shot of vodka has long since worn off and I won’t let Bane drive with a concussion.’

  ‘Good enough,’ Noah said, and shut the door behind them.

  Sunset over the valley was spectacular enough for Tim to regret having left his phone behind, and he was not usually the sort of person who took photos of scenery. He stood looking out from the top of the ridge as a flock of cockatoos wheeled overhead, screeching louder than even his mum ever could. The air was rich with eucalyptus and rain. It was nearly the end of May and so only a hint of lingering autumn warmth remained and the orange and pink clouds warned of more wet weather to come.

  Noah was sitting on a rare patch of grass near the cliff edge, mumbling something about how it worked differently up here, and telling Bane how clever the ancient ones had been to make a boundary that only existed for certain people, whatever that meant. Bane ignored him, so Noah went back to playing with his pile of pebbles in a very disturbing way. Sometimes he tossed them and they would all watch them go sailing over the edge, but sometimes he would slowly pass one forward until it disappeared from his fingers, as if by magic. A magic trick worth learning, if Tim could figure out how he did it.

  They were waiting for someone who could not possibly be Lainie because her body was resting at that very moment on the floor of the lounge room at the farmhouse. And yet the others had been speaking of her all afternoon as if she was on her way back from somewhere. He refused to ask again. It was frustrating and a bit patronising when they ignored him. Instead, he watched Bane pace back and forth along the ridge, shaking out his arms every now and then as if his shoulders were sore—or like he was warming up for a fight. His friend was usually so calm. He could normally stand at attention for hours without fidgeting or even looking bored. Today was different.

  ‘Check again, Noah. How close is she?’ Bane asked, but then he spun around and froze with wide eyes, not even breathing.

  ‘Pretty damn close, I’d say,’ came an impossible voice from below the edge of the drop. ‘And I’d appreciate it if Noah could stop piffing stones at me.’

  Leaning over precariously, the three of them tried to see where the voice had come from. That was when Tim saw Noah’s head disappear. Literally, just his head. The rest of him was still lying flat on his stomach on the grass. With a series of very unmanly sounding squeaks, Tim scrambled backwards until a tree stopped his panicked retreat. Thankfully, Noah’s head reappeared moments later, but Tim decided to stay where he was in case it happened again.

  ‘She’s on an indented ledge,’ Noah relayed. ‘It’s right on the threshold, so only part of her is through. Now can I throw her the rope please?’

  Bane sighed and passed the end of the rope to him. The other end was already tied securely to a large peppermint gum. Very securely. Bane had checked it at least four times. Less than a minute later Noah reached over the edge and heaved. Tim, who had sort of half been expecting it, still nearly passed out when Lainie clambered back into the land of the living.

  Like an avenging angel standing on the edge of the cliff with her hands on her hips, backlit by the bleeding sun and with her torn red dress flapping in the evening breeze, Lainie stood, glowering at Bane. Her long brown hair tangled around her shoulders, lit to burnished gold where the setting sun filtered through it. She had a long graze down her thigh, smeared with blood, and a large bruise on her left elbow. Tim watched Noah back away from her slowly, but she stomped over to him and gave him a nasty nipple-cripple.

  ‘How could you be so certain that bringing me back wouldn’t poison the tr … arghh—’

  She seemed to choke, and then her eyes darted around until she caught sight of Tim. He cringed back against the tree in response to her glare. The scowl she then gave Noah was even worse.

  Noah rubbed his chest, and exhaled sharply before answering her unfinished question. ‘I can tell, and you know it. Stop needing it and I’ll stop doing it,’ he argued.

  It made no sense to Tim.

  ‘I’ll get to you in a moment, Noah Ashbree,’ Lainie said, turning back to Bane.

  Bane stared right back at her, his face set and his arms crossed, possibly to protect himself from a similar attack. ‘Lainie, what have you done? Didn’t you read my letter?’

  ‘Oh, I read it. Then I burned it. It was crap. What sort of self-sacrificing bullshit did they teach you at that army school? The country is doomed if that’s what you’ve been learning.’

  Frozen in place, as if moving would unleash an uncontrolled flood of emotion, Bane tried again. ‘I was serious, Lainie. I can’t go through that again. I’m hopeless at this job. No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to be able to keep you safe here. Please go back. Please,’ he begged, and Tim nearly burst into tears at the way his voice cracked.

  ‘Don’t give me that “I’m not good enough” rubbish. I’m not in the mood. I’ve died five times already today—no, wait, six—and it’s made me a bit cranky. Now shut up and give me the damn ring!’ she demanded, holding her hand out.

  Even the air seemed to hold its breath as two worlds waited impatiently for his decision, while overhead, a pair of eagles circled each other, riding the same currents in silent harmony.

  Bane moved like a crashing wave, wrapping her in an embrace too reckless to contain, and she grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him so defiantly that she threw him backwards until he stumbled and fell in a heap at her complete mercy.

  Tim looked uncomprehendingly at Noah, who had a massive grin on his face. ‘Ah, crap,’ he said. ‘Tessa’s going to kill me.’

  Epilogue

  Throwing everything into his backpack, Jake looked around the grungy campsite. Had he left anything useful behind? His pack was disturbingly light considering it contained everything he currently owned in the world. He had a little bit of cash, but nowhere near enough to support himself for long, considering he was now living on the run. Jake Evans, wanted by the police for serious crimes, what a joke. He’d never intended for things to come to this, and yet he no longer cared. There were more intriguing powers at play in the world than the Victorian Police Force and he was definitely one of the major players now.

  The sword was wrapped in his old blanket and tied with hay-band. Although it terrified him, he was completely obsessed by it and had to force himself not to unwrap it again to take another look at its pristine beauty. It was his now, and as soon as he found somewhere safe to hide he could take as long as he wanted to admire it, but first he had to get away. They knew where his campsite was and would be coming for him soon. Would Noah be able to track him? The guy obviously had some kind of supernatural link to the sword, so for all he knew he might be able to hunt him down no matter where he went. Part of him quailed at the thought, but a more violent part of him relished the idea. Slashing at Noah’s pretty face with the shiny blade sounded like a magnificent idea. Why had he never realised how revoltingly arrogant Noah had always been? So popular all through school, with girls fighting over him all the time—he was the sort of guy that other guys should have naturally hated. None of them ever did. Because he wasn’t natural. He cheated. Now that he’d seen him for what he was, he realised that for years he’d also been fooled by Noah’s f
alse charm. The guy was a fraud and all Jake wanted was to wipe that dimpled smile off his pretty face. Off the face of the Earth, in fact. Then nothing would be left to stand in his way.

  He, Jake Evans, was now in possession of the fabled Sword of Eden, a place that promised eternal life. How much would the rich and famous pay him to let them pass through that secret gateway? Would he let them? Or should he keep the Garden’s life-giving secret for himself?

  Jake breathed in deeply, memorising the scent and feel of the valley. The Garden of Eden. So close. He ached to see it for himself. Just one more filthy fraud in the way. Noah was not the guy he’d known from school. He was something … inhuman.

  Suddenly it was all Jake could do to stop himself from grabbing the massive weapon and charging back to the cave to look for him. Instead, with a resolute breath, he picked up his pack and slung it over his shoulder. Cradling the long bundle covetously against his chest, he lifted his chin and set off towards the road. He needed to find a lift into town, fast.

  Patience, little friend, the voice in his head whispered. We will possess Eden soon enough.

  Interesting. Usually, he only heard the voice when he was high, and it was never welcome, but this time, it seemed pleased with him. He would do as instructed. Head to town, sell a secret, and gather an army.

  Author's Note

  Between the time the first draft of this novel was written, and the time it was finally released into the big blue (insert mental image of white dove being launched from author’s trembling hands here), much has changed in the world. For example, discussions have evolved from issues of ‘diversity in fiction’ and on to ‘cultural appropriation’, and I love how they are playing out. People are having their say and being heard (for the most part). People are listening and learning, myself included. One of the original passions that led me to write these books was to acknowledge and explore the common ground between people’s belief systems. Not to challenge or try to change anyone’s theology, but to encourage mutual respect. Of course, if I was to start the whole process again, I would be far more aware of the pitfalls of writing about Indigenous themes from an outsider’s privileged perspective. A bit late to change such a foundational premise of the story now, though. I have, however, shifted the focus of the story to a perspective I can speak into, which is that of a girl with mixed (and largely unexplored) heritage who has to learn to reconcile the cultural history that she has been largely ignorant of, with the society and culture she has grown up in. For those of you who were expecting a deeper exploration of the Aboriginal themes from Songlines, I apologise for not being able to offer them here. I am simply unqualified. I do encourage you to pursue that exploration, however, and there are a number of extremely talented Indigenous Australian authors who deserve to have their voices heard. Never forget though, that some stories need to remain hidden. We have no right to them. As I hope any believers in Eden might now appreciate.