She called in a voice just above a whisper. “Robby?”
Nothing. But the feeling of being watched grew stronger than ever.
Okay. Let’s get out of here. She dragged herself over the gritty concrete. It was difficult going. The ground was far from smooth and her ankle protested at every movement. The snap of a twig brought her eyes up again. A shadow moved beyond the hedge. Isabeau went perfectly still, her heart hammering.
“Hello?” Her voice was dry with fear. “Is somebody there?”
She twisted towards a scraping noise on the other side of the clearing.
“Hey.” She hated how shrill her voice sounded. “Anybody there?”
Then she stared in disbelief as, with a rustle and snapping of twigs, an enormous dog pushed its way through the hedge into the clearing. Its narrow, wolfish face was tracked with scars. Large, amber eyes stared arrogantly down at her.
She’d seen eyes like that before. The circus lions. They, too, had looked as though she were nothing more than a thing, potential food, prey to be dispatched. No hint of communication or understanding, just dispassionate calculation. A predator’s eyes.
Isabeau’s stomach hollowed with fear and her heart hammered. A sound dragged her head around. Another dog stood at the other end of the clearing. This one had a torn ear and a darker face, but it looked at her with the same cold interest.
Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she shuffled herself around so that her back was to the wall. One hand clutched blindly for a weapon, anything, a stick, a stone, but all were out of reach.
Then the third dog appeared. Its face was hidden by a stylised snarling wolf-mask. Its chest, neck and back were armoured.
“Oh,” sighed Isabeau. Samurai Dog! She tried frantically to remember the creature’s name. How could she forget it— “Xun!”
The gardag’s ears pricked at the sound of her name but before Isabeau could speak Robby came scrabbling in a flurry of sand and stood between her and the three dogs. His body shivered with excitement and a growl rattled in his throat.
“Robby, no.” Isabeau stared in horror as the two wolfdogs focused on Robby. Their lips drew back to expose long teeth and their eyes became angry slits.
Robby held his ground, redoubling his growling.
They’re going to tear him to bits. “Robby.” Her voice came out barely a whisper.
Xun turned her head slightly, as if centring one eye on Robby.
“Xun, please—”
I have to sound calm. I have to explain it to her. She’s a gardag. She can understand what I’m saying.
“Xun. Don’t hurt him.” Isabeau took a deep breath. “Please. He’s my dog. He’s just trying to protect me.” She reached out and touched Robby lightly on the back. “Robby, down, boy. Quiet.”
Robby completely ignored her.
“I’ve hurt myself, see?” Isabeau pointed at her ankle. “Xun—” She looked pleadingly at the gardag. “You used to find lost children, didn’t you? When you worked as a gardag? Well— I’m a lost child. I need your help.”
Robby’s growl sank to a menacing murmur. The lenses over Xun’s eyes made it difficult to judge what she was looking at, and her armoured body gave no clue to her mood.
“Can you help us, Xun? We need your help. I’ve hurt myself and I don’t know how to get home.”
The old gardag flicked an ear.
“I’ve twisted my ankle. Robby’s just trying to protect me. He’s my dog. He’s just doing his job.” She stared at Xun, then looked away, remembering that to dogs, a direct stare was a challenge. She had to keep speaking. That was her best chance.
“You wouldn’t hurt him, would you? For looking after me?”
Behind Xun the grey-muzzled wolfdog crouched and Isabeau winced back expecting him to leap, but Xun swung around, snarling. The two of them faced one another, gardag and wolfdog, fur bristling, jaws hanging open. Then the wolfdog lowered his head and dropped back.
The other wolfdog trotted forward a few paces, stiff-legged, eyes fixed on Isabeau, but Xun moved to block his path. He stopped and looked away, yawning in frustration.
Xun swung back to face Robby. Her armoured head dropped a fraction, her ears swivelled forward. Isabeau held her breath as, step by step, Xun closed the distance. Isabeau wanted to reach out and grab Robby by the collar but knew that any movement now might be disastrous.
Oh, God, Robby’s going to do something dumb now, he’s going to bark or snarl or jump at her—
Xun loomed over Robby. She lowered her head for a sniff, then looked away, staring vaguely across the clearing as if completely uninterested in the squat brown dog.
Isabeau looked in wonder as Robby stretched out his neck for a tentative sniff. For several heartbeats they stood, Robby sniffing, Xun looking calmly off into the distance, allowing herself to be inspected. The two wolfdogs hung back, watching this interchange.
Isabeau realised that she was shivering so violently her breath shuddered. She had to relax. The worst thing she could do now was to project fear and tension.
Then Robby moved a little forward, tail and head up, sniffing along the length of the gardag’s body. Xun, in her turn, sniffed politely at Robby’s butt.
“Good,” said Isabeau softly. “Good boy, Robby. Brave boy.” She checked what the other two were doing. Their eyes were still far from friendly, but at least they’d lost their aggressive stance. It looked as though, for the moment at least, they were taking their cue from Xun.
Xun had apparently lost interest in Robby and now moved in on Isabeau. It took all of Isabeau’s willpower not to wince back from the armoured mask. She couldn’t help closing her eyes and pinching her mouth shut, but all that she felt was a tickle of whiskers on her ear, and the soft huff of breath on her cheek.
She opened her eyes. Xun regarded her calmly through cracked lenses. This close, Isabeau could see the calluses on the old gardag’s face where the armour chafed her skin. The gardag’s teeth were as long and sharp as a young dog’s.
Before Isabeau quite knew what was happening, Xun ducked her head under Isabeau’s arm and grasped her wrist in her jaws. Isabeau barely had time to take her weight on her good foot before the gardag, with a practised twist, heaved her up so that Isabeau hung half over Xun’s neck.
“It’s okay, you can let go my hand, I’ll hold on,” gasped Isabeau. The gardag released her wrist and Isabeau scrabbled for a hold on the ridged armour plates. Her injured foot, dangling just above the ground, throbbed so badly that it made her head swim and she hoped she wasn’t going to be sick.
“Okay. I’m ready now. No, it’s fine, Robby, really, it’s fine.”
Robby was all hackles again, but he relaxed at Isabeau’s reassurance.
“So, um.” She felt vaguely ridiculous. “Where are you taking me?”
The Search
It was late afternoon by the time Elke returned to her hiding place in the Muara. Her trip had been unsuccessful. All she’d found were some old campsites, signs of transient inhabitants who had moved through the Muara weeks ago.
Meisje had picked up on the gardag scent a few times but nothing fresh enough to worry her. The most promising lead was the workers constructing the dike. If all else failed, she could ask them where the circus was, although that felt like a risky thing to do. She had no idea what was going on or who she could trust and didn’t want anyone to see her, let alone know what she was looking for.
As she approached the ruined building where she’d made her camp, Meisje slowed and came to a stop, head up, nose twitching in the breeze. Elke understood her signals instantly. They were no longer alone. Somebody was up on the balcony where she’d slept the previous night.
She took the long way around, approaching the building from up slope so that she saw them before they saw her. A young boy, the one she’d seen before, and a tall, old man. They weren’t speaking to one another, just standing there, waiting.
A glance at Meisje told Elke they weren’t carrying weapons. The gar
dag’s enhanced vision would reveal anything like that and while Meisje was alert and curious she didn’t seem worried by the two strangers.
The old man turned and looked straight at her. Elke raised a hand in acknowledgement and climbed up to the balcony, careful to keep her movements slow and even. As she pulled herself up she got her first good look at the man and blinked in shock.
The upper part of his face was ravaged by scars. From the bridge of his nose to his hairline the skin was blotched into shiny puckers as though he’d been blasted with a blowtorch. His heavily lidded eyes seemed unharmed and he followed her every move. She climbed over the parapet wall and the boy, noticing her for the first time, started in surprise.
“Oh!” He stared at her and Meisje, then looked beyond her. “Where’s Issy?” The man put a hand on the boy’s shoulder but he didn’t seem to notice the warning gesture. “What happened to Issy?” His voice was tight with anxiety. “Do you know where she is?”
“I’m sorry.” Elke stopped where she was. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The boy turned to the man. “But I thought she’d be here!” He whirled back to Elke. “It was you, wasn’t it, spying on us last night?”
They’d found the stash of possessions she’d left behind. Everything was laid out neatly as if for inspection.
“Hello,” she said evenly. “Is there a problem?”
“Answer the boy’s question,” said the man.
Elke kept her temper. “I was down there near you last night, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “I’ve seen you around.” She nodded at the boy. “But I’ve never seen you before.” She looked at the man.
“I’m Ndlela,” said the boy, “And this is Crosshatch.”
The old man’s lips tightened as though pained by the boy’s sharing of their names but he didn’t say anything. Ndlela went on talking. “Didn’t my sister come to you this morning?”
“I’m Elke, and this is Meisje.” Elke sat on the parapet wall. She was tired after a long day of walking, and hungry too. She wondered how long her unwelcome visitors would stay. “And no, I’ve not spoken to anybody today. I saw your sister yesterday, a little blond girl, smaller than you? But not today.”
She swung her bag off her back and opened it, digging inside for the remnants of her lunch.
“But you must have seen her.” Ndlela frowned, worried. “She told me she was planning to come speak to you. Or did you find a note? She might have left a note.”
“No note,” Elke fished a biscuit out of her bag. “But I’ve been away all day. So if she came here this morning she wouldn’t have found me.” Noticing the way Ndlela was looking at her half-eaten biscuit she gestured with it. “Want some? You hungry?”
Ndlela just looked surprised.
“When did you last eat?” said Elke. “You’re not going to be any help to your sister if you go fainting with hunger.” She took the packet of biscuits from the bag and held it out to him. After a moment’s hesitation, Ndlela took a biscuit and tucked it in his pocket.
“We better get on then,” said Crosshatch. “Wasting time here.”
“Okay.” Ndlela looked at Elke, seeming at a loss for words.
“Good luck,” said Elke. “I hope you find her quickly.”
First Crosshatch, then the boy climbed over the parapet wall and lowered themselves down from the balcony. Elke watched them disappear into the milkwood trees. She folded the biscuit packet closed and put it back in the bag. Then she started gathering the possessions her uninvited visitors had spread out on the concrete.
A bark from Meisje drew her attention. When she was sure that Elke was looking at her, Meisje glanced significantly towards the milkwood trees, then stood, ears alert, every line of her body telegraphing urgent expectation.
“What now?” Elke put the last of her possessions into her bag and straightened. .
Meisje barked again. Then she trotted a few steps towards the parapet wall, turned, and looked over her shoulder.
Elke closed her eyes briefly. “I know you want to help them, girl, but we really can’t get involved.”
Meisje came right up to Elke, took a mouthful of her trousers and tugged, looking up at her all the while.
“Hey, stop that.” Elke pushed Meisje’s muzzle away. “They didn’t ask us to help them.”
Meisje sat and looked into Elke’s eyes, leaning forward a bit as if she were trying to transmit her thoughts to her mistress through sheer force of will.
“It’s too dangerous.” Elke frowned down at the gardag. “We don’t know what’s going on here. We can’t go charging around looking for some lost child.”
Meisje barked again and gave a playful bounce towards the wall accompanied by another appealing glance. When this did not work she came back and seized Elke’s hand in her mouth and pulled at her again.
“Meisje, stop it now. We can’t get involved.”
The gardag let go of Elke’s hand and grumble-growled a series of hoots, grunts, and yips, all canine indignation, ending with a long, drawn-out sound halfway between a growl and a howl.
“You’re not going to give up, are you,” said Elke wearily.
The gardag’s ears twitched an emphatic no!
Elke blew out a breath. They shouldn’t get side-tracked from their task, but she did not need Meisje’s nagging to be aware of the gravitational pull of Ndlela and Crosshatch’s need. They had looked so tired and worried. With good reason too. A small girl, lost in this wilderness. Anything could happen to her. Without the help of Meisje’s keen nose they had very little chance of finding her.
“Oh, bloody hell.” Elke picked up her bag. “Okay. You win. Go catch up with them. I’ll follow.”
Meisje gave a happy bark and in a single bound she was off, leaping clear over the parapet wall and charging into the milkwood trees. Elke followed at a slower pace. Despite her doubts, it was a relief to give in to Meisje’s promptings.
Or maybe, said a sour little voice deep inside, you’re happy for this ‘missing kid’ excuse. You’re avoiding what you really should be doing. Like going back to the Eye, and facing whatever happens there. Doing your job, not running away and playing silly adventure games.
When Elke caught up with Crosshatch and Ndlela, Meisje was bounding around them like a puppy. She quietened down at Elke’s stern look, her mouth still open in a mischievous grin.
“Listen,” said Elke. “Can I help look for her? Meisje’s a good tracker.”
“Oh, would you?” said Ndlela.
“We’ve tracked lost children before,” said Elke. “Having a dog that can track by scent makes a big difference.”
“I bet!” Ndlela smiled in relief, but Crosshatch didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic. The old man looked Elke up and down, taking in all the details from her horns to her boots.
“She can help us. I’m sure she can.” Ndlela looked up at Crosshatch with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Hmph.” Crosshatch pulled his face into a grimace. “Tracker dog.” He turned his attention to Meisje, who was sitting bolt upright, returning his gaze with bright eyes. He grumbled in his throat. “Hrmph. Tracker dog, are you?”
Meisje blinked at him. For a moment they regarded one another. Then Crosshatch sighed. “Very well,” he said at last. “You might as well help.”
Elke fell in step with them. “So when did you last see her?” she asked Ndlela.
“I haven’t actually seen her since last night,” Ndlela said. “She must have gone out before I woke up this morning but I didn’t realise till pretty late.”
“And did she take anything with her?” When Ndlela just looked blank, Elke continued, “Like, did she have a bag she’d take with her when she knew she was going to be out for a while? Or did she take any food? Anything like that?”
“Oh!” Ndlela’s eyes widened in comprehension. “I get it. No. I don’t know. I never checked.”
The path they were following narrowed so that they had to go in single file, Ndlela in front a
nd Elke close behind. They were making their way through the stubborn undergrowth that survived in the soft beach sand behind the dunes.
“And is this something she’d do, just go off by herself?” Elke glanced back at Crosshatch. “Is there somebody she might have gone to visit?”
“She’d sometimes go out by herself, but never out of sight of the hotel,” said Ndlela. He held aside a thorny branch so that it wouldn’t whip back onto Elke. “She sometimes goes to see Crosshatch. Or maybe, the Dutchies. But we’ve asked them already and they haven’t seen her.”
“The Dutchies?”
Ndlela jerked his chin further down the coast. “The guys working on the dikes.”
“Oh. The dike workers. Do you believe them?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Ndlela sounded surprised. “They’re good guys. We know them. They’d have said if they’d seen her. They were all worried when they heard she was gone. They’re going to help look for her.”
“Okay. And was she upset for any reason? Did you have a fight, something like that?”
Ndlela stopped walking and turned to face her. “What, are you a cop or something? What’s with all these questions?” His chin jutted stubbornly. “You think we chased her away?”
Elke suppressed a grin. “Actually, I am a cop.” She gestured at Meisje. “Meisje here is a trained tracker. Finding lost people’s one of the things we do.”
“Oh.” Ndlela looked doubtful.
“Listen,” said Elke. “I just want to help. Say the word and I’ll butt out.” She spread her hands. “Your call.”
“Wasting time,” said Crosshatch. “We’ll tell you when you’re no longer wanted. For now, let’s just keep going.”
¤¤¤
When they’d crossed the river, Ndlela raced ahead up to the hotel while Elke, Meisje and Crosshatch waited for him on the steps. He returned a few minutes later, at a much slower pace. Elke didn’t even need to hear his words to know that he’d not found Isabeau waiting for him there.
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