Gathering Voices
Page 11
Despite her anxiety, Nara had needed no further convincing to leave. She had packed her things and, one day later, she was ready for the journey north.
She watched the morning light creep over the clefts and ridges of Sleeping Rock. Behind her, on the far side of the house, the cattle lowed and snorted in their pens – those great grey cows whose bristly chins Nara had always loved to stroke.
Today she would leave all this behind. Her parents didn’t understand the responsibility of a Whisperer – that Nara had been born to protect the wilds, and that the Narlaw were the biggest threat they faced. But she was determined to show her family who she really was, to go from healer to warrior and banish the demons just like Queen Amina had a hundred years ago. She felt a ripple of fear at the thought. She had learned the theory of banishment from Lucille, her mentor, but to be faced with a real shape-shifting demon was a different matter all together. They were stronger than three men combined and they could steal your form and drop you into an endless, dreamless sleep at a single touch…
Nara gripped her bow tightly and breathed the cool air. She reached out with her Whisperer sense and felt the world around her – the sway of the grass, the bush larks darting overhead. All of this would be gone if the Narlaw were allowed to return. The demons lived only to destroy, feeding on the living parts of the world as a fire feeds on dry timber.
Her journey would span the length of Meridina, up into the cold north of the kingdom, a place that was completely unknown to her. To where the ravens roosted and the Darklands sat just beyond the mountains, threatening.
Paws padded lightly on the earth behind her, reminding Nara that she wouldn’t be facing these challenges alone. She turned as her leopard companion, Flame, emerged from the house.
Some things are worth rising early for, Flame said.
Her words rang out in Nara’s mind and she felt comforted as Flame came to her side. The bond they shared and their silent way of whispering together were the greatest gifts Nara posessed. To other people it seemed strange and unsettling, but to Nara and Flame it was utterly natural.
Do you think they have mornings like this in the north? whispered Nara.
Flame squinted into the sunrise and flicked her long black-tipped tail.
Not like this, she said.
Nara lay her hand on the soft patterned fur of her companion’s back. Flame was slender and proud, the colour of the savannah itself.
A cool day, said Flame, flaring her nostrils.
There was a thinness to the air, the clouds gathering and shifting.
A good day for a long walk, Nara said.
Flame looked up, her sand-coloured eyes regarding Nara intently.
A long walk together, Flame said.
Always, said Nara, scratching Flame between the ears.
The sun had crested the long, bare summit of Sleeping Rock now and the savannah was bathed in light – the wide-spaced acacia and date trees, the tufts of red-grass and dropseed.
How cold do you think it is in Meridar? asked Nara.
Colder than we could imagine, said Flame, pacing a circle around Nara. They say the sun only rises for a few hours a day at this time of year – that they have winters there, and snow.
Well, I’m glad I packed my thickest blanket, said Nara. Us furless creatures have to be careful.
She had packed all the medicines and tools of her trade, too – the soft, small pouches full of herbs, root stalks and blends, the finger-length sickle with its bone handle and curved steel blade, fabric strips for bandaging, her tiny crucible and tinder.
Perhaps we should go, said Flame. I don’t think there’s going to be a big farewell party.
Nara ducked back inside the house and stepped quietly into the kitchen where her father stood with his back to the door.
“We’re going,” she said. “Would you say goodbye to Mother and Kali?”
Her father turned and looked at her with what seemed to be his usual impatient expression. But as Nara held his gaze, she realized there was sorrow in his eyes, too.
“You’ll pass close to the Rift,” he said, shifting his eyes down to his boots. “There are bands of nomads on the move there. Some farmers ran into them and their meeting wasn’t friendly.”
“I’ll be careful,” said Nara.
She knew of the nomads by their fierce reputation only. They were tribal people, herders of cattle and skilled hunters and warriors.
Nara stood awkwardly for a moment until, to her surprise, her father stepped forwards and gave her a quick, powerful hug. She breathed in his familiar scent, storing the memory away.
“You be safe,” he told her.
Nara nodded.
She left without saying goodbye to Kali or her mother, fearing some kind of argument, or worse: the stony silence she so often received.
She walked with Flame into the savannah, glancing back again and again until her home had vanished in the distance, replaced by the grasslands, the trees and the endless sky.
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2016.
Text copyright © Kris Humphrey, 2016
Illustrations copyright © Chellie Carroll, 2016
eISBN: 978–1–84715–768–3
The right of Kris Humphrey and Chellie Carroll to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
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