Tunguska Preview

by Jessica Rydill

  ‘You think he’s been messing with our unborn children.’

  Annat shrugged. The thought chilled her to the bone.

  ‘Kaschai is that powerful,’ she said. ‘And Oscar would be a prize for him. I’m sure it’s not just revenge. He’s too calculating and intelligent to indulge himself in that way. There must be a reason behind what he has done.’

  ‘If I get my hands on that bastard, I’ll blow his guts out through his mouth,’ said Yuda, quietly. Yuste put her hand on his arm.

  ‘You don’t know it’s Kaschai…’ she said.

  He glared at her. ‘Who else would have the power – or the ruthlessness – to do that? Natka’s right. We left the job unfinished last year. We should have gone after him then. I should have.’

  ‘You couldn’t,’ said Yuste. ‘You had to return to the Greenwood. And you know why, as well.’

  ‘I need to go back. Now,’ he said, standing up. ‘How soon can you get ready, Natka?’

  ‘Are you mad?’ cried Yuste, jumping to her feet. ‘It’s only two days since she delivered Oscar. She is still healing.’

  Yuda smiled at her. ‘I’m a healer,’ he said. ‘Do you think I’d let any harm come to Natka while I was there?’

  ‘No,’ said Yuste, grudgingly. ‘But you’re a man. You wouldn’t notice if she was ready to drop.’

  ‘I’ll notice. And if I don’t, Genie will tell me.’

  ‘Yuda, how are they going to live, two young girls in the Greenwood?’

  ‘They’ll be well looked after. We have a pavilion in a clearing. The frame is made from wood, and the shell from goat hair fabric, like a stretch tent.’ He grinned at Yuste’s expression. ‘We didn’t make it. Just as you get nomads in the real world, people travel through the Greenwood.’

  ‘So you’re encamped in the Greenwood.’

  ‘Sometimes. When we’re around. You have to understand, Yuste, that being dead, some of the time we’re not around. We’re resting. Like bears hibernating. The tent looks empty. So visitors leave notes for us.’

  ‘Where are you, when the tent is empty?’ said Annat.

  ‘Right there. It’s hard to describe. In one sense, we don’t exist. And time doesn’t pass for us, though Huldis seems to have gone on getting bigger.’

  ‘You’re at peace,’ said Yuste, her mouth trembling. Yuda touched her cheek.

  ‘Don’t cry, Missis,’ he said. ‘It’s a lot better than being in pain, or the other alternatives. Sometimes I lie there for hours watching the rain. There’s so much to see: birds, animals, trees growing. I like it.’

  ‘It sounds…I don’t know. Strange,’ said Annat.

  ‘That’s what the Greenwood is, Missis. It’s not Heaven, but it isn’t a real place. It’s where I belong now. I love being there – or not being, sometimes. Just folded up and tidied away. We make tally sticks so we can check how long we’ve been gone.’

  ‘What will Genie and I do?’

  ‘You’ll be safe. We can keep an eye on Oscar. And maybe he can help us with this shadow baby business. Though I don’t know what I’m going to tell Huldis.’ He grimaced. ‘She’s not going to like it. And she’s not stupid. She knows at once if I’m hiding something.’

  Annat and Genie got dressed and packed as quickly as they could. Annat was used to travelling light, but this time she packed what she hoped would be enough nappies and clothes for Oscar. Yuste and Bubbe had made them for her; baby-clothes, pieced together from remnants of old shirts, or knitted from fine wool. She was going to carry him tied to her back with a blanket, as she had seen women from Morea do. She had even asked them how it was done; though while Oscar was so small, she might be better carrying him in a sling in front of her.

  Genie helped her use one of the Morean cloths she had bought in the market to tie Oscar to her chest. Oscar seemed placid enough; he did not wake while they were arranging his transport, and Annat was comforted by his warm, heavy shape against her.

  They found Yuda and Yuste in the drawing room, arguing with Planchet.

  ‘I’m not letting her go off alone again,’ said the old soldier. ‘Look what happened the last time.’

  ‘She won’t be alone, Mister,’ said Yuda. ‘I’ll be there, and so will Genie.’

  ‘With respect, Mister Vasilyevich – you’re not the most careful. And my lady needs caring for, even more now. There will be times when you’re not there. Then who will guard her? I know Genie is brave, but she can’t wield an axe.’

  Yuda held up his hands. ‘You’ve convinced me, Mister.’

  ‘Yuda…’ said his sister.

  ‘Zyon! What now?’

  ‘How are you going to feed Annat and Genie? They can’t live on cob-nuts and thin air.’

  Seeing Yuda’s expression, Annat understood he had not thought about this at all. The Repha’im no longer needed to eat or drink; they were starting to forget what it had been like to be human. They did not really need the shelter of a tent, but it was a useful place for them to reside, in storage, as it were. Yuste was unimpressed.

  ‘It’s not as if there are bakeries on every corner. I know what these places are like. No food, no water – they’re not meant to house the living. Your daughter is flesh and blood, Mister, and you can’t expect her to go without food. Unless the Almighty provides manna from heaven.’

  Yuda gave Planchet one of those glances Annat had noticed men exchange when they were being harangued by a woman. And Yuste was prone to haranguing people, especially her brother. It was as if she had to cling on to as much of their old relationship as possible. Annat put her hand on her aunt’s arm.

  ‘Auntie. We will be fine. Planchet will help us fend for ourselves. And this part of the Greenwood belongs to Yuda. It’s his. I imagine he may find a way to make a vegetable garden for us.’

  Yuste pursed her lips, and her thoughts suggested it was hard to imagine her brother and vegetable plots in the same sentence.

  ‘The thing is, Yuda, you’ve made enemies. We all have. Not just Kaschai the Deathless, but other people wandering about in time.’

  ‘But who won last time? Us,’ he said. ‘And there were times when I didn’t fancy our chances. Right to the end, I couldn’t see how we’d get through. But we did. You did.’

  ‘I don’t like letting Annat out of my sight,’ said Yuste.

  Yuda smiled, suddenly. ‘It’s a bit late for that,’ he said. ‘You should never have sent her to live with me, all those years ago. She’s had to grow up fast. How’s Mameh?’

  Annat’s widowed grandmother had left her old home on the coast and moved in with Yuste and her husband in Masalyar.

  Yuste shrugged, turning away. ‘She’s well. She loves living in the city. I suppose after so many years being stuck in Sankt-Eglis, she finally had a chance to do what she wanted. I think if it hadn’t been for our Tateh she would have moved here long ago.’

  ‘I’d love to see her.’

  Yuste shook her head. ‘If you start wandering round the city, someone is sure to notice. Even when you’re covered up, Yuda, you shine in the dark.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’re right, Missis. I don’t want to start a riot.’

  ‘Most people are afraid of the Dead. We’re used to you, because we’re shamans. And Planchet knows you. But ordinary citizens prefer their ghosts to appear in the theatre or in story-books. Not sitting on the tram next to them.’

  Planchet suppressed a chuckle. It was clear that Yuda was striving to be patient with his sister, and what she said was good advice. But he was struggling not to lose his temper. Annat, who was used to being lectured by Yuste, felt some sympathy for him, though she was sure her aunt was right. It was just that she loved to remind you she was right, and to emphasise the point.

  ‘Auntie,’ she said, ‘I’m sure Tateh knows what he should do. I think we will go into the garden and he can call up the Greenwood from there.’

  ‘I thought you might have to visit the Botan
ical Gardens,’ said Yuste, managing a smile.

  ‘I’ve got better at it,’ said Yuda. ‘It helps to have growing things nearby. Annat’s garden was near enough for me to parachute in. Not literally,’ he added, noticing Planchet’s surprised expression.

  After more discussion, Annat, Genie and Planchet managed to gather their bags and follow Yuda into the garden. It was a mild afternoon, and like so many of these occasions there was a sense of ordinariness. Yuda had decided to wear an overcoat and hat, so he looked from a distance like a conventional Wanderer. He wandered round the garden with his hands in his pockets, inspecting trees. From time to time, he would lay his hand on the trunk of one or other of them, and stare up into the branches.

  The others waited, talking and watching what he was doing. Annat half-expected him to complain that she had the wrong type of trees, and that they would have to visit the Botanical Gardens after all. But Yuda found one he seemed to like, and leaned on it with one hand, talking to it as if it were a horse.

  ‘I hope your neighbours can’t see too much of what happens in this garden,’ murmured Yuste.

  ‘I expect they can see everything,’ said Annat. ‘But they know who I am. I think they are content as long as there are no demons or explosions.’

  Yuda stood up and stared at the sky, looking anxious. Whatever kind of magic the Greenwood used, it was not part of the lore of the Wanderers. It was pagan, like the Goddess who had made Yuda the Sacred King, and his friend, Sergey Govorin, into the actual King of Lefranu. Neither man worshipped the Goddess; but the Goddess was real, so real they were on first-name terms with her. You could not ignore what magic doled out to you; you might have to confront demons on the train, or fight angels from another world, or worry about roses in unexpected places…

  As Annat was thinking this, the Greenwood arrived. It sprouted from the ground, put out shoots, and spiralled into the air, making them jump back. It reminded her of the beanstalk in the story of Jack the giant killer, which grew up into the sky.

  The stems wove themselves into a tall tunnel of green basketwork, which stirred in the breeze. It looked beautiful, but it was alive, and Annat wondered what would happen if the green power took against you. The tendrils might tear you apart, or move to imprison and throttle you…

  Yuda took her hand. ‘Not while I’m there,’ he said. ‘This is my bit of the Greenwood. I’ve got more control over it than I had when we last met. If you climb inside, you’ll see what I mean.’

  One after the other, Annat, Eugenie and Planchet clambered into the fretwork of massive, twisted stems that looked as if they had been growing there for hundreds of years. Yuste peered up at them, her hands clasped anxiously.

  ‘What do you mean, Yuda?’

  He glanced back at her, and grinned. ‘You’ll see,’ he said. He took hold of the trunk and hauled himself up into the tunnel. Annat noticed that the place they had entered was sealed at one end.

  ‘You can sit down,’ said Yuda. ‘And I’d advise you to sit. These things go like the clappers once they start to move.’

  ‘What is it, Mister?’ said Annat, as she, Genie and Planchet found themselves unexpectedly comfortable perches amongst the twisted trunks and branches.

  Yuda looked out of the green lattice to where Yuste was standing on the ground below. He waved at her.

  ‘It’s like a train,’ he said to Annat. ‘I’ve been making adaptations. The first few times we used the Greenwood to travel, we had to walk from one end to the other. It occurred to me that, with you and Huldis being in an interesting condition, you wouldn’t be able to walk long distances. So the Greenwood and I had a chat. The Greenwood is cleverer than I am, and it can call on the knowledge of many more trees than the few in this garden. It made something that can travel longer distances – but fast. Hold on tight!’

  As soon as he had spoken, the capsule moved. It moved faster than any train Annat had ever ridden on, and the sensation was unexpected, causing a tickling feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if she had left her kidneys on the ground below. Genie squeaked, and Oscar made an odd mumbling noise. Planchet drew the sign of the Wheel on his forehead. Yuda was amused by their reaction. He was standing, holding on to one of the branches, and he seemed not to feel any of the discomfort the others experienced.

  Though Annat could not see where they were, she thought the capsule was travelling through a long, spiralling tube of green fronds, as if it were an elevator that could move horizontally as well as vertically, or a train that went faster than any steam locomotive. As she grew accustomed to the speed, she began to like it. Genie had covered her eyes with a gloved hand, and Planchet was looking green, but Annat enjoyed herself as much as her father, though she thought it best to remain seated.

  The journey did not last long. The capsule emerged from its tunnel with a satisfying pop, and settled on the floor of a forest Annat did not recognise. Having performed its task, it fell open and the creepers and trunks shrank away or withered. One tree, a slender birch, remained, with Yuda leaning on it. He got a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, put one in his mouth and lit it.

  ‘Where are we?’ said Genie, looking around. They seemed to have arrived in a clearing surrounded on all sides by dense walls of forest. It had the feeling of a real place, but Annat knew from her visits to the underworld how deceptive such things could be. Sometimes it could take a long time to work out what was different.

  ‘The Greenwood, or my part of it,’ said Yuda. ‘It’s a short walk from here to the tent. And Planchet can make you some tea.’

  ‘Planchet looks as though we should make him some tea, Mister Vasilyevich,’ said Genie, helping the butler to his feet. ‘Remember we are mortal, and not used to such superhuman speed.’

  ‘I liked it!’ said Annat.

  ‘It was certainly exhilarating,’ said Planchet, dabbing at his face with his pocket handkerchief.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mister,’ said Yuda, taking Planchet’s free arm. ‘I tend to forget that you’re not in the first flush of youth.’

  Planchet looked around him and sniffed the air. He nodded. ‘This has something of the Forest of Ademar about it. Is it forbidden to go hunting here?’

  ‘Not if you and the girls are going to eat,’ said Yuda. ‘In many ways, it’s no different to an ordinary forest. The only thing we don’t do is fell the trees. If you want to make a fire, you’ll have to use dead wood. But otherwise you can forage in the same way you would have done at home. I suppose you may find this forest more – helpful – than one in the living world. The Greenwood is a vast mind – or intelligence. It’s attuned to me, and I’m attuned to it. I treat it with respect.’

  ‘It reminds me of home,’ said Planchet.

  Chapter 3

  The Greenwood was a crossing place in more ways than one. After a few peaceful weeks in which Annat, Genie and Planchet became accustomed to the noises of the forest and the routine they needed to follow with Oscar, one day the girls were wakened by the sound of someone shouting and banging pots and pans outside the tent. It was the angry, disgruntled sound of a man who expected service at an inn and was becoming truculent when he did not receive his due.

  Planchet had gone out to forage for food. Yuda had shown him where to look for roots and herbs, and hunt the occasional animal. Annat wished they had thought of bringing a chicken so they could have eggs. Their diet was boring, but it was sustaining; Planchet usually came back with a rabbit or two, or a brace of pigeons. The wood seemed to be running the same season as the one they had left, which was early summer.

  ‘Who is that, Anne?’ said Genie, trembling.

  Annat climbed out from under the covers and pulled on her dressing-gown. Her hair was tousled and she had had no chance to cover her magic eye. Oscar stirred in his crib, and she knew he would be awake soon. She hurried out of the tent, and found herself confronting a posse of armed men, some on horseback and some on foot, who carried sharp weapons and wore armour. Annat k
new they would see a small, lone woman they thought they could bully. Or worse. She cursed herself for not being fully dressed.

  A tall knight approached her on foot. He had smoothly cut hair, long enough to touch his collar. Annat recognised his demeanour; that of a man used to being obeyed, who paid no regard to the wishes of others.

  ‘You. Woman. Who lives here?’

  Annat gazed at her feet. She did not want him to see her magical eye; she wanted him to go away before Oscar woke and cried for his feed. And it was wise with such men to seem submissive; they expected it. She was not sure what to say; Yuda and the Repha’im could not be said to live anywhere.

  The man laid his hand on her shoulder, and gripped hard. Annat looked up into his face; that made him take a pace back. He made a sign to ward off the Evil Eye. Annat wondered what world he came from; she thought it must be Earth, where they had little experience of magic.

  ‘Demon!’ he said.

  Yuda sidled up to stand beside her. Annat noticed he was wearing forest clothes, the colour of moss and bark. He had a hood pulled over his head.

  - Who’s this idiot? he thought.

  Annat was tempted to laugh.

  - He wants to know who lives here.

  ‘Who are you?’ said the knight. He was more at ease talking to another man, even one swathed in green and brown rags.

  ‘I’m the owner of the tent, and this is my daughter,’ said Yuda. ‘What do you want? I hope it’s important.’

  He glanced at the sky, noticing that the weather was damp; it was before dawn, and the sky was dull.

  ‘My men and I are lost,’ said the man. ‘We wish to shelter here. And we need a guide to lead us out of the forest.’

  Yuda felt his chin. He looked expressionless, but Annat knew he was struggling not to laugh. ‘You know where you are, then,’ he said. It was not exactly a question.

  The man made an impatient movement. ‘The wood of Bentivoglio,’ he said. ‘We lost our way after dusk and we need somewhere to rest until the weather improves.’