by Simon Birks
Harvesters.
Jenza had tried to get a picture of what the old woman meant when she’d said the word, but the only thing she could pick up on was the fear it instilled in her. Whatever the Harvesters were, they were to be avoided.
Immediately after finding the Ja, Aponser gave her some water and the smallest amount of food, and managed to get the weak woman onto her sled-type creation.
“Off we go,” Aponser said, after putting a harness around her shoulders that was fixed to the sled.
Jenza felt the vehicle jolt into motion. She’s pulling me, she thought.
That’s right, the woman replied. Now get some rest before you have to start pulling me.
Jenza rested her head on one of the bags on the sled. It felt as if it might contain some sort of grain. Jenza closed her eyes, and the lulling motion of the sled took her to sleep.
*
Aponser waited until for the girl to dream, before she started thinking. In her weak state it was difficult to determine just how gifted she was. Who knew what snippets of thought she might be able to pick up on?
The old woman looked at the sky. Vengeance would be upon them soon, and they were out in the open. She knew of only one shelter she could reach in time. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least, but it was better than the Vengeance.
Aponser altered her course accordingly, and sped up. It was going to be an uncomfortable few hours.
*
Jenza’s dreams were full of shapes that were difficult to define. Edges were blurred, details hidden. All the same, something was there. Not alive, but moving. It was bright. Not like a sun, but reflective, like a sword. A large sword hovering over her head. Jenza raised her hand to try and block out some of the glare, but it was of little help. Jenza was afraid. Whatever the shape was, it meant harm.
Then it was gone, and Jenza dreamt no more.
Experimenting
Hossip and Visenai sat on two of the dining chairs whilst Ma Poppun inspected the hall. She’d been examining everything for the past twenty minutes. Finally, she stood up straight, blew the air from her cheeks and shook her head.
“Well, I don’t understand,” she said. “Who would go to all this trouble?”
“They wanted to cover their tracks,” Visenai said. “They didn’t want anyone finding them.”
There was a silence in the room for a few seconds. Ma Poppun turned to the girl.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
Visenai took a long breath up through her nose. She’s doing it again, the cook thought.
“They were… experimenting. Is that a word?”
Ma Poppun looked at Hossip, who shrugged.
“I’ve never heard of it,” she said. “Do you know what it means?”
Visenai breathed in again.
“Testing,” she said, “That’s what it means. They were testing something.”
There was a longer pause now. Ma Poppun broke the silence.
“I think we ought to go to the kitchen.”
“Agreed,” Hossip said, quickly. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“I was hoping we could go to my room first?” Visenai said. “There are some things I want to pick up.”
*
“Let me go in, first,” Ma Poppun said once they’d reached her door.
Visenai went to say something, then thought better of it, and nodded.
The cook put her ear to the door, held her breath and listened for a minute. She couldn’t hear anything.
She pushed the handle down and tried to open the door. It didn’t give. She leaned on it, but it felt as if she was pushing against a solid stone wall.
She looked down for a lock, but there wasn’t one.
“It’s never had a lock,” Visenai said.
“I can’t move it. Hossip, come and help.”
The coachman looked at Ma Poppun, and, begrudgingly stepped forward. He too put his weight against the door. The pair of them pushed, and pushed harder. Nothing.
“There’s not some special trick with this door, is there?” Ma Poppun asked.
Visenai shook her head.
“Can I try?”
The two adults stopped pushing and stepped away.
The girl stepped up and reached for the handle. She stopped a few inches from it and reached out with her mind instead. There was something there. She thought she could feel the shallowness of its breathing. It was waiting for her to touch the door, and enter the room. She pushed past its body, and tried to see what it was feeling.
Blackness. That’s what she found. Bleak, massive blackness where you’d fall, tumbling head over feet again and again and again. You could be there forever. It had been there forever. It wanted her to be there forever. And in the darkness, there were other things, looking on. Unaware, she swayed a little on her feet, and Ma Poppun instinctively reached out and touched her shoulder.
Visenai stepped back, raised a finger to her lips and indicated they should retreat. When they reached the top of the stairs, Visenai turned to Ma Poppun, and hugged her.
“I never want to come here again,” she said into the woman’s skirts.
The cook bent down and, however much her body ached, she didn’t care. She scooped the girl up in her arms and they all turned and hurried out of the house.
“We won’t,” Ma Poppun said.
And she was almost right.
*
The three of them visited the servants’ quarters next, in the northern annexe of the house. Whatever was inhabiting the main house didn’t seem to be here. Ma Poppun and Visenai waited by the door to the rooms whilst Hossip went through looking for money or other useful items.
They retrieved more than they thought they would. They could probably have found more, but they knew the Vengeance was on its way, and they wanted to be in the kitchens before it arrived. Once there, Ma Poppun made them food from whatever was still unspoiled. It was quiet as they ate.
“So, we’re going to leave?” Hossip said when he’d finished.
“Yes,” the cook said.
“It seems like we’re giving up everything.”
“There’s the house, and the three of us. It won’t be long till someone comes to take it. We can’t look after it. We can’t defend it. And I’m not sure we’d want to, anymore.”
“There is nothing here,” Visenai said. “The house is as good as gone already.”
The coachman sighed.
“Where do we go?”
“Langeph,” Visenai said, immediately.
“Is that something you know?” Ma Poppun said.
The girl nodded.
“Why?”
“Safety in numbers,” she said. “We run and we hide.”
Hossip raised his eyebrows.
“You make it sound like something is after us!”
Visenai looked at her plate. She nodded.
“There is.”
Rare Seeds
By the time Aponser got to where she was headed, Vengeance had nearly begun. She had made good progress, and for that she was thankful. Her bones and muscles would ache that evening; they were aching now, but it was worth it. They had arrived, and by the looks of it, he was home. As she approached the building, smoke could be seen rising from out of the chimney, and Aponser could hear singing coming from inside.
She left Jenza on the cart, out of sight around the corner. The old man wouldn’t think to look there. Aponser moved round to the doorway, and knocked. She hadn’t been here in many years.
The singing stopped. All noise stopped.
“Who is it?” came a deep, gravelly voice. “Who is it that knocks my door and interrupts my singing?”
Aponser knocked the door again.
“Who is it?” the voice said, louder this time.
“Aponser,” the old woman said.
The door was whipped open.
“I knew it was you. I knew it was you,” the man in the doorway said. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t ki
ll you right now?”
“Because you are my father,” Aponser said.
“I am not!” the man shouted. “I am not, and that is a lie.”
“The Vengeance is nearly here,” Aponser said. “I have no time for disagreements.”
“Vengeance or no Vengeance, I will not let a liar into my house.”
Aponser sighed.
“I am no liar, whether you believe it or not.”
“I am not your father.”
“All right, have it your way. But can you let me in, please?”
“I have no riches,” the man said.
“And I have no need for riches. Let me in, please.”
The man lowered his head, and looked up at Aponser through greedy eyes.
“Have you got riches for me?”
Aponser stared at him. He was her father, yet he was nothing to do with her. It was sad, and there were times when she let the truth of it overwhelm her, and she would walk the desert with her sled and cry tears that she caught with a cloth, for if they hit the sand, the Harvesters would know where to find her.
“Yes,” she said. “I have some riches for you. Now will you let me in?”
“Show them to me,” the older man said.
She hoped he hadn’t always been like this. She assumed the many years he’d spent on his own had changed him, had warped him. Aponser sighed, took a bag from within her clothing, and showed it to the man.
“What is it?” he snapped at her.
“Open your palm, and I will show you.”
“Is it a trick?” he barked at her.
Aponser shook her head.
“No trick. Please.”
The man took a moment to think. After a few seconds he extended his hand. Aponser tipped the bag very slowly. Tipped and tipped.
“Come on,” the man said, impatiently.
And then something fell out. A small, roughly rectangular seed. The man caught it. Aponser looked at his face.
“It’s not, is it?” he asked. “It is. I think it is. Is it?” he said again. “Have you got more? How many more have you got? Let me have them now!”
“You will get them,” Aponser stated, “When we leave here unharmed.”
“We? Who’s this we? You never said there was anyone else. I want more of these.”
“And you shall get more. When we are safe and out of your way.”
“Is this real?” he said, holding up the seed.
Aponser nodded.
“It is real.”
“Where? Where from? These are extinct.”
Aponser smiled a wise woman’s smile.
“Indeed they are, above the surface. But when things are hunted… they hide. They go underground. If you know where to look, you’ll find them.”
The man’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re a Magic.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I’m the one who knows where the rest of these are.”
He looked at her. Aponser could see some of their features were similar. She suspected he saw them, too.
“It is just a girl. She is hurt and I am looking after her.”
“Is she another Magic?” he asked.
“No,” Aponser lied.
She didn’t want him getting any more upset. The girl would more than likely not come around whilst they stayed there.
“Very well.”
Aponser watched the man who was her father turn and walk into the house. She loved him and she hated him, and she wasn’t sure which emotion was the stronger.
Reverence
Hoep watched the woman clutch the mirror to her, like a child would a doll, as if she’d fight for her life to keep it. It was nothing more than a polished bit of metal, which distorted any reflection almost beyond recognition, but the woman seemed happy with it. He’d found it in a pile of rubbish in one of the corners. It struck Hoep others had used the barn to shelter from the Vengeance, too.
Now it’s our turn.
He wondered if they were being hunted by the Telar-Val. He wondered what was happening outside of their small group. Hoep stood by the barn entrance, looking out of the gap between the ill-fitting doors. Vengeance was coming. It was nearly here. Gideon should be back by now. He didn’t want to be out in this. However dangerous the boy was, and these last few days had proved beyond doubt the boy was dangerous, he wouldn’t want to be out in it when it came.
Hoep breathed the fresh air in. For some reason, the barn air seemed stale in comparison, like it wasn’t able to escape. He turned back inside and looked at the woman. He still did not know her name. She sat with the makeshift mirror and stared into the scant innards of the building, populated by a few stable stalls, and a squared-off area containing rusty tools. Above these, at the far end, was a small loft, with a ladder leading up to it.
It was simple; four walls, and a roof against the elements. There was something impressive, too. It was church-like in its reverence.
Hoep went over to the woman and sat down cross–legged, close by. She didn’t look at him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice soft, encouraging.
“All of them died,” she said, forlornly. “They died. I saw them die.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Hoep said.
She turned to look at him then. Her expression made him sad. He had not seen what she had seen. He did not know how he could help her.
There was a pause.
“Thank you for the mirror.”
“It’s not much…” Hoep began.
“It was what I needed,” the woman said. “I had to check…”
“That you weren’t a monster?” Hoep asked.
The woman nodded.
“Yes, that I wasn’t a monster.”
“I don’t think it’s what you look like that makes anyone a monster.”
“No. You’re right. Where’s the boy?” she asked.
“Outside. It’s nearly Vengeance.”
“Are we safe in here?”
Hoep nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “Safer without him, at least.”
Secured
The Vengeance was almost upon them. Ma Poppun secured the kitchen doors.
“I wish we could have gotten away from the house before this,” Hossip said.
“We should be safe until it’s over, and then it’ll be daylight. And I’d much rather travel by daylight.”
Hossip looked over at Visenai, asleep near the flickering fire.
“Her gift seems to be getting stronger,” he said.
Ma Poppun crossed the room and sat in her chair, beside Visenai.
“We should try not to mention it. Maybe they’ll be someone in Langeph who can help.”
“Oh, there’ll be plenty who can help,” Hossip said. “Just not in a way we’d be happy with.”
“I won’t let any harm come to her,” Ma Poppun said. “I hope you feel the same way.”
Hossip shrugged.
“I’ll look after myself, and I advise you to do the same. Without the protection of this house, and the master, it’s going to be difficult for us all.”
“Who attacked you by the carriage?”
Hossip looked at the cook for a moment.
“I have no idea,” he replied. “I went to get the horses, to check they were all right and to look over the carriage. I do it every day, master’s orders. And during it, the man attacked me.”
“It looked like you were talking to him.”
“Did it? I was trying to ignore him. Hoped he’d go away.”
“Did you recognise him?”
“No. I couldn’t see his face. I don’t know who it was.”
“He poisoned you. Tried to kill you…”
“He did. And I have you to thank for my survival.”
“Me and Visenai,” the Ma said. “You’d do well to remember that.”
Hossip shrugged, and didn’t respond. Ma Poppun looked to the sky, and shuddered.
“Here it comes,” she said. “Have mercy.”
Alarm
Gideon regained consciousness. He’d been out for a while. His head throbbed and there was an ache in his arm. Above him, the sky was darkening.
He raised his head slightly, wincing at the clanging pain. That wasn’t going to help him; he needed to be able to concentrate. It was nearly night.
Not night. Look again.
Gideon blinked and looked again.
The Vengeance.
“Oh, no,” he said.
He had to get back to the barn.
Push through the pain.
He rolled slowly onto his side and saw the animal he’d killed nearby, its guts spilled on the ground around it, its eyes staring glassily upwards.
That was close, Gideon thought. And then he thought, What happened here exactly?
Gideon got onto his knees, rested for a moment, and then pushed himself up onto his feet. Got to get to the barn, get out of here. He retrieved his sword and checked he’d left nothing else on the ground.
Gideon looked at the sky one last time, turned and started to run.
*
Hoep wasn’t sure of the exact moment he realised they weren’t alone in the barn. He was sure there hadn’t been any sound or movement, more that he’d just begun to feel watched. Whatever it was, it sat in the darkened loft spying on them. It had no doubt been there since they arrived. Perhaps it was their mirror he’d given to the traumatised girl.
Hoep looked at Ka Yeta now. That was her name, she had told him. It’d made him smile. He had known a Yeta in his early years. Named after a sea hundreds of miles from where they were now. A wild, deadly sea. It seemed a fitting name.
He was sure Ka Yeta hadn’t realised they had company. She had problems of her own to deal with. Whoever or whatever it was, they were likely here for duration of the Vengeance. He wondered whether they had anything to eat. Food was a good deal breaker. Ka Loy had told him that. Usually just before she delivered his week’s supply.
He wanted to try and make contact, diffusing the situation before it became a situation, but he didn’t want to alarm Ka Yeta. She was better off not knowing. He looked back over to check on her once more, and felt his stomach lurch. She was gone. Where she had been sitting was now just an empty space.