by Louise Wise
‘How tall is she?’
‘What?’ Fly glanced over his shoulder. ‘Why?’
‘Stop and look a moment,’ said Gorjum. ‘Something’s wrong.’ He’d stopped, and reluctantly Fly did as well. Gorjum pointed to cut branches at his eyelevel. ‘These are freshly cut. Look, the sap is still seeping out.’ He looked at Fly. ‘I’m assuming, like Jelvian women, she’ll be shorter than men? If so why would she bother to cut something that was over her head?’
‘She’s a lot shorter and slighter than Molver.’ Fly traced the letter ‘J’, carved into a tree, with his finger. ‘She can’t be running from anyone, though, or she wouldn’t stop to carve her name.’
‘Not running, she’s being stalked,’ Gorjum said.
‘We need to hurry,’ he said. But Gorjum remained still.
‘I can smell… meat,’ he said.
Fly sniffed. ‘A honnard settlement. It was them who cut the branches.’
Gorjum stared at him incredulously. ‘You aren’t worried they’ll kill her?’
‘The honnards worship her,’ he said. He turned and continued to walk.
‘There are several species of natives. Not just the four-legged ones or the honnards that you speak of. There is a group who are fierce. We call them the orwains.’
‘Orwain’ meant evolved in Jelvian.
‘The honnards can be pretty fierce, too,’ Fly said, turning to walk onwards. ‘But they wouldn’t hurt Jenny.’
‘Orwains hunt Jelvias,’ Gorjum said from behind.
‘Good.’
‘You don’t understand. They are nothing like your honnards. The orwains will fight to the death if they have to, and they are clever.’
Fly’s heightened state of elation was plummeting as Gorjum spoke, but he didn’t slow his pace. ‘What do they look like?’
‘They are as tall as us, have hairy faces but their bodies are naked. Their eyes are coloured. They have no claws or sharp teeth. No hooks from their heels either.’
‘Evolution,’ Fly said.
‘Exactly—’
Fly began to run and Gorjum’s answer was lost. Fly was so focused on surging ahead that he almost missed a stick doll of Jenny pinned to a tree trunk.
He rushed towards it with a shout of glee. The glee changed to horror when he saw that the ‘hair’ on the doll was real. He spun round and thrust the doll at Gorjum as he crashed through the undergrowth after him.
‘They killed Murdow, and these Orwains have Jenny!’
Gorjum took the doll and turned it over in his hands. ‘Her hair is really red,’ he said.
Fly snatched the doll back and tucked it into the pocket of his clothes. ‘I will kill every prim, honnard or orwain if they’ve hurt her for that hair,’ he said, and turned to follow the scrubland again with Gorjum close on his heels.
‘They aren’t primitives. They are orwains. We need to be care—’
It happened fast. Then Fly was struggling with an invisible force as it projected him up into the air. He couldn’t see, but he felt the pressure as he left the ground. Gorjum was with him, and he felt the other man’s legs and arms as he too struggled. He had time to realise they were trapped inside a sheath of some kind, before feeling the motion of falling.
They hit the ground hard.
Gorjum falling silent immediately.
Fly lay winded as the sheath tightened around them. He felt something on top of him and he spat at the pressure. He followed his venom with his claws and tugged at the sheath. It was a tough substance. Similar to leather. Something hit him on the leg. Another blow hit him on the shoulder.
A barrage of voices and then he was hit hard on the head.
‘Bargi!’ he shouted. ‘Bargi!’
More voices. A howl and then he was hit again.
And again.
Chapter Fifty Seven
The birds were going crazy, Jenny thought.
Her sword was out and poised, but the creatures flew or hopped from tree to tree and ignored her. She sheathed her sword. They were making her jittery for nothing.
A native howled. She sniffed. She could still smell the smoking pits.
She stopped at a huge tree blocking her way at an angle. It hadn’t been able to fall flat because of the density of the forest. She looked up at the birds. Were they following her? As she wondered, one took off and flew away. It was followed by two others, squawking loudly.
‘Guess that answers my question.’
Having a sudden spark of ingenuity, Jenny changed direction and followed in their footsteps.
‘Wing flaps,’ she corrected herself. The birds weren’t creatures from the jungle and that meant one thing—she was on the fringes of the jungle and not deep within it. She grinned to herself when she noticed the forest brightening.
The descent was steady, sheer in places and Jenny was finding herself more on her backside than her feet. The charred ground caused her to stop.
‘Stupid!’ she berated herself. Clenching a fist, she smacked a tree trunk. ‘Of course, the birds would be heading back to their food supply!’
The call of the natives was sharper too, and unwilling to meet a Neanderthal again and become sucked back into their loving fold, she darted to one side, and cut herself a new path.
Then Jenny saw something glinting in between the trees. It was the ocean. The sight of it swelled her heart and she felt ridiculous tears pool in her eyes. She’d been close to the sea all along!
She kept it within sight as she walked, then almost unexpectedly, the trees opened into a vast mossy grassland that was sprinkled with geysers and pools of steaming water. But Jenny’s eyes were for the sea in all its luminous glory.
The birds behind were making a lot of noise; she wouldn’t be sorry never to hear them again. She turned to look though, making sure she wasn’t their target with their endless squawking.
The branches of the ceremonial tall trees stretched higher than the others. It was as if they were making up for their burnt trunks. Jenny could see the black of the nest in one and imagined giant chicks—featherless with their beaks open and being fed giant worms.
She shuddered at the thought, and turned back to the sea.
‘Beautiful,’ she said. She breathed in its scent but could still smell the smoking pits of the natives.
A strangled yell made her whip round and draw her sword. She half expected to see another Jelvia, but there was nobody. A gust of wind sent droplets of warm geyser water to splatter her face. She brushed them off, cocking an ear and listening to more of the odd sounds.
The sounds weren’t animal-like. Not people-like, either. They were just weird.
She shielded her eyes and peered at the trees. Birds were circling and under their squawks the odd noises became defined as muffled shouts of terror. Or pain. The sound was strangled, and kept being cut off.
It wasn’t her problem.
She turned back to face the ocean. Her priority was getting home to Diana and Fly. She was on high ground, and a cliff top ran in an almost straight line as far as she could see. She must have unwittingly climbed it while she was tramping lost through the wood, using the tree roots as handrails or steps.
She didn’t fancy heading back into the jungle for fear of becoming lost again. She shrugged off the rolled up items the natives gave her and unravelled the rope. Behind her the squawking birds drowned out the strange sounds and Jenny flung the rope over the edge of the cliff.
Chapter Fifty Eight
His face was still covered, but he was upright now and alone.
His hands were tied above his head but at an angle that created a dull ache in his shoulders. His feet were bound and there was something tight around his mouth. He tried to bite at the restraints but couldn’t get a hold. The ground was hard, but he could feel the edge of whatever he was standing on. Rope cut into his stomach and secured him against something tall and unyielding. There was no give in his restraints and no way of cutting through them with his claws.
Hi
s body ached from the numerous blows he’d taken, and something was trickling down his face and he suspected it was blood. There was no doubt in his mind that the people who had killed Murdow, had taken Jenny, and now had captured him and Gorjum.
His mask was whipped off and he couldn’t help but gasp. He was within the treetops, and could see the ocean from where he was perched. He couldn’t move his head, so swivelled his eyes around. Gorjum was beside him, also blinking in the sudden bright light.
A manlike figure scurried from the platform where they were tied, and disappeared into the tree’s greenery to climb down to join the others on the ground—orwains. Their upright stance held no slight stoop of the honnard. Their arms were shorter, and they were athletically built. They wore animal hides and furs, and their hair and beards reminded Fly of Matt and Bodie—his old human friends.
Fly swivelled his eyes the other way: the remains of Murdow’s head was on another pedestal. One side of his face had been gorged on and skin hung off in strips. A squawk from above made Fly’s body jerk and the barbed rope cut into his stomach. Gorjum made a sound from the back of his throat. Fly peered to look at him, and they exchanged glances.
Fly tried to swing his body one way and then the other, but he couldn’t get the momentum needed. The tree didn’t even sway. He threw himself forward and allowed the barbed restraints to cut into his body but he wasn’t going anywhere.
The flap of wings created a draught, and then a shadow fell over them. The bird landed somewhere in the tree above Gorjum. He shouted beneath his restraints and tried to break out of his bonds.
Both men watched, helpless, as the bird hopped to Murdow’s head and resumed its meal.
Chapter Fifty Nine
Jenny tied the other end of the rope to a sturdy looking shrub, and pulled on it to check its hold.
More birds had joined those circling. Their squawks pierced her eardrums until her head whistled with the noise. She peered to see. She couldn’t ignore it.
She kicked the rope to one side and jogged towards the trees they were circling. She didn’t want to get too close in case they attacked. The closer she got to the scorched Neanderthal area the louder the noise became. Her feet connected with the charred ground, but she kept behind the trees to avoid being seen. She didn’t want to go through having her arms filled with things again. She peered through the branches and saw two Neanderthals standing at the edge of the charred clearing. They were looking up. Jenny glanced up as well, expecting to see gruesome remains of an animal.
Murdow’s head was still there, but it wasn’t alone.
The other platforms were occupied, and that was where the noises were coming from: distressed sounds of people trying to scream. Or rather two Jelvias. They were drenched with blood.
Jenny stared, caught up in some kind of horrified immobility as a bird flew down and gripped the head of one man with its talons.
The man tried to shake it off, but his binds didn’t give him enough thrust. The bird pecked a beakful of hair and flew off with its prize as the rest of the man’s long hair flapped in the wind.
‘Jesus Christ!’
She was running from the trees before she’d realised she’d screamed. ‘Stop!’ she yelled at the startled Neanderthals. She ran towards them, waving her hands, and yelling. ‘Get him down! Down!’
The Neanderthals looked at one another, and then back at Jenny.
‘Chi-Chi,’ one said. He touched his fur lapel where a piece of her hair was attached.
‘Please,’ she said, and pointed at the trees.
‘Che-lers, huff-chuff, Kernuff,’ the man said.
They are our sacrifices to the bird gods.
Jenny whipped around as more birds flew down and began to attack the men on the podiums. She ran to the tree and began to climb up the knotted rope but yelled in frustration as she kept slipping off. She felt, more than saw, one of the Neanderthals climb the tree from the other side, and Jenny, not having progressed far up the rope dropped to the floor to watch anxiously.
The second man took the rope in his hands, and Jenny saw him brace as the other up the tree cut one of their prisoner’s free. He pushed him from the platform. The rope holder took the weight of the prisoner and lowered him down unceremoniously; the knotted rope was a caveman pulley system after all.
The Jelvia didn’t look in good shape as he fell to the ground. He lay at Jenny’s feet covered in blood and didn’t look to be breathing, but that could be because of his bound mouth—although Jenny didn’t take it off. This wasn’t Fly and an injured Jelvia could still spit his venom.
She looked up at the trees as another body crashed down. It slipped headfirst then stopped as the rope became tangled. The man’s face was inches from hers. His eyes were scrunched closed as he expected impact; his bonded hands unable to help.
‘Oh my god,’ said Jenny.
The eyes snapped open.
‘Well, hello, lover,’ she said. Or tried too. Tears clogged her vocal cords. Fly’s beloved face had rivers of blood congealing in the binds that tied his mouth. One of his eyes looked puffy and there was a large wound in his cheek. Jenny reached with shaky hands and cupped either side of his upside down face, then pressed her mouth where his was behind the tight restraints.
He moaned behind his binds.
She wiped her eyes with a shaking hand and turned to the watching Neanderthal. ‘Ji-ji,’ she said. ‘Ji-ji.’
They stood mute. Frustrated, Jenny grabbed one of the cave-people’s arms and pulled him forward. She put his arms around Fly’s body, and using her sword, cut where the rope was tangled. Fly fell, but with the caveman holding him, his landing wasn’t heavy. The birds above squawked, but Jenny heard no sound. She was focused solely on Fly.
On her knees, she began to cut away at his binds; her tears falling unnoticed. As soon as his hands were free, he cupped her face and brought her against him where she felt his heart pound against her chest. He was trembling.
The primitive men stood around looking at one another.
Jenny grabbed the seashell necklace from around Fly’s neck, and took it to the watching Neanderthals. She pulled out her own necklace and held it up to them, letting them see that it was the same.
One of them had an effigy of her hanging from his neck. She looked into his eyes, and touched the necklaces to the effigy.
‘Chi-Chi,’ she said. ‘Ji-ji.’
The Neanderthals were unresponsive at first, and then one fell to his knees and began muttering beneath his breath. The other copied, jabbering words only they understood.
Jenny stepped away putting her necklace back around her neck, and Fly’s back around his neck. He’d taken off his mouth restraint. It had been tight and there was a vivid mark around his face. She could feel his eyes on her as she bent to cut his legs and feet free. She had to unpick the barbed rope from his stomach. He still hadn’t spoken. He seemed bewildered by her appearance.
When he was untied, she hugged him head against her breast and hushed him even though he hadn’t made a sound. She wanted to ask about Diana but didn’t dare. Didn’t want to know the answer.
The Neanderthals moved away, and now they were alone, apart from the other Jelvia who was rolling about on the ground trying to loosen his restraints.
Fly’s face was buried against her. He gathered her tighter, and fresh tears welled in her eyes as she realised he was crying. Her arms squeezed him and she dropped kisses on the top of his head as tremors swamped his body.
The other Jelvia shouted some more, and a bird squawked.
But Jenny continued to hold Fly as his huge shoulders shook.
Chapter Sixty
A flurry of wings swooped down, and Gorjum screamed behind his binds. Fly shouted a warning, and Jenny jumped from him, but instead of cowering in his shadow as he expected, she rose, spun round, her red hair catching the light as it flew through the air, and pulled a large sword that looked too big in her hands.
In one clean move, she decapita
ted the bird.
She turned her attention to Gorjum, and pointed her sword at his chest. His eyes widened in shock. Jenny looked across at Fly, who was still sitting where he’d fallen. His bulging throat, extended on the point of shooting his poison, was waning.
‘D-don’t kill him,’ he said. He ran a hand over his face, and clambered to his feet. He felt old.
‘Are you sure?’ She looked down at Gorjum with a curl on her lips. ‘The Jelvias are scum, Fly, you know that. These,’ she moved the tip of the sword to his throat, ‘have been using our honnards as slaves. Dragging their children away and using their women for… well, use your imagination.’
Fly was staring at her. He still felt shocked at the turn of events. One moment he was preparing for death, thinking Jenny had also suffered the same fate, and then here she was, bold and beautiful—and his saviour.
‘Tell me why I shouldn’t kill him?’ she demanded.
‘His clan have Diana.’
She recoiled as if he’d hit her, and he sprang forward and caught her before she fell.
‘It’s OK, she’s safe. Jenny, she’s safe. I promise you that.’
She recovered quickly. There was something hard in her expression as she turned to look at Gorjum. ‘She’d better be,’ she said. ‘After all, we have a hostage.’
‘Jenny, it’s going to be OK.’
She looked at him. Her face was so cold. ‘Untie his feet, but that’s all.’
She led the way out of the charred area and onto a wide expanse of dry ground littered with steaming lagoons.
***
She hadn’t spoken since they’d started walking. The sea glinted in the distance and failed even to bring a sparkle back to her beautiful green eyes.
She stopped where a rope hung over a drop of several metres. Fly stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her against him. She resisted at first, but then her body softened into his.
Then Fly understood: she was trying her hardest to hold it together. She was close to the edge of breaking point. Fly wasn’t surprised at his level of understanding. He’d surprised himself at the emotions he’d felt on his journey to find her. He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head.