Frantically Skye jumps up and faces the shadow, her brother Ecco. Some blood has gotten on her shirt and on her neck and she tries to dry it off. But the blood on her hand from earlier only makes it worse, and soon she has blood in her face and her hair. Shocked, she looks herself up and down, and her eyes meet Ecco’s. He says nothing, but she can tell the muscle in his jaw is clenched and his eyes are black with fury.
In a quick sliding movement his hands flies from his hips up against her face and she feels an explosive blow to her cheek. She can’t control the movement of her face, and it feels as if her head turns dangerously backwards at an angle that could break her neck. Her cheek is burning and she puts her bloody hand on her bruised face. She’s bitten her own tongue and can taste her blood. It tastes differently than the blood of the long-ear that she’d gotten in her mouth before. She turns her face and looks, shocked, at Ecco again.
“What have I done, Ecco? What have you done? I don’t understand.”
She shakes her head lightly as she speaks.
“What’s happened to you? Where’s my sweet and caring brother gone?”
Skye raises her voice as Ecco stands silently, looking at her as if there were no words coming out of her mouth.
“Answer me!”
She starts hitting him on the shoulder with her fist, but his body doesn’t even react to her search for answers. Skye stops talking and falls to the ground in front of Ecco. In despair and hopelessness she looks up at her brother one last time, hoping she can make him speak. But she feels that she’s speaking to herself rather than him. Her voice is only the smallest whisper.
“What’s happened to you, Ecco?”
Finally, Ecco answers her, and his voice is loud and clear.
“I grew up.”
He turns around and walks away from her, and for a short moment she sees the shadow of her father materializing in Ecco’s body. She blinks a few times, but no more tears appear. Her eyes are dry and she can clearly see everything around her.
Quietly she speaks out into the air: “Then I hope I never grow up.”
Skye doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting on the ground, but her legs have gone cold and the blood on her face and her hands have dried up. The small animals of the night have appeared. Many of them are drawn to the dried animal blood, and they’re all over her body, but she doesn’t even pay attention to them. Not far away from her Ecco is sitting by the burning fire.
Suddenly thousands of thoughts flood into her head and all of her senses come back to life again. Now she feels all the small animals crawling on her skin and the scent of burned wood from the fire is filling her nostrils. She feels like walking over there. Feels like walking over to Ecco and hugging him. She misses him as if he’s been gone for several days and nights. How she’d like to sit next to him by the campfire, and tell him about all the things they’re going to experience in the future. And about all the experiences and trials they’ve already had, making up her memories, her life. She misses him so much that it hurts in her body, and she doesn’t care why she’s sitting on the cold ground.
Suddenly, Ecco gets up and walks over to her as if she’s spoken her thoughts out loud. Skye’s heart beats faster, and she tries to remove the dried blood from her face before he reaches her. She doesn’t want to remind him of the episode that happened earlier and create a new unpleasant situation. But the night has already swallowed all nuances and colors, and her face is covered by the darkness. All the evidence of their confrontation has been washed away. Forgotten and gone. Ecco reaches her.
“Won’t you join me at the fire?”
His voice is low, almost whispering.
“I miss you by my side.”
CHAPTER 12
Dagwood and Salomon have almost reached the camp, and they can see the fire in the distance lighting up the darkness. Laughter and chatter fill the air and they both pick up their pace. Puk is there to greet them, and right behind him is Twice.
“Look, he’s started following me. It’s incredible how smart he is.”
Dagwood smiles at Puk, and looks down at the little roundsnout who’s glued to Puk’s feet as if an invisible bond was tied between them.
“Yeah, it won’t be long now before it’ll start singing and dancing. It’ll be good to have some decent entertainment for the dark evenings for once.”
Puk laughs back at Dagwood while carefully casting glances at Salomon. He can tell that Salomon is even more bottled up than he usually is, and he sticks closely to Dagwood to avoid his gaze. He’s been so eager to welcome them home that he’s forgotten to look at their hands, which would quickly have revealed the failed hunting trip.
“Did you catch something? The rest of the clan are waiting by the fire. Some of them are quite irritable, and both Fella and Carrick are in a grumpy mood. I think it’s because they’re hungry.”
Puk almost trips over Twice, who keeps running in front of his legs.
“All of Fella and Hackett’s traps were empty and Flo and Knox only caught two small swimmers today. It’ll only feed one person so we were all hoping that you guys …”
Salomon cuts Puk off before he finishes his sentence.
“We didn’t catch anything.”
Quickly Dagwood turns his face towards Salomon. He catches his eyes and sends him a stern look.
“That’s not true. Sal shot a bird with his new rock sling, but it was stolen from us.”
Now they’ve almost reached the others, who are running to meet them. They look down at the empty hands of the returning hunters and the disappointment in their eyes is hard to hide. Quickly, Puk says something to stop the terrible silence of disappointment.
“They’ve had their prey stolen. They caught a lot of birds, but someone took them.”
They all start asking a lot of questions at once, trying to find out who robbed them of tonight’s dinner. Dagwood senses an increasing unrest spreading in the group, and quickly hushes them.
“Please sit down by the fire and then I’ll explain to you what happened.”
Excited and hungry at the same time, they all sit down by the warm fire. Hackett shares the little food they have in equal parts and he can see the anticipation on their faces vanish as he passes them the half empty eating bowls. Worried, Dagwood looks at their faces, knowing that soon they’ll have to find a solution to their temporary food crisis if the hope in their eyes and hearts isn’t to disappear. Puk, Hackett and the two girls have grown thinner in the last weeks, and Evi in particular looks very weak. Every one of them seemed to be growing more and faster than they used to as they develop from small children to grown-ups. And their increased growth demands more food than before.
He is worried but doesn’t want to show them his own desperation. They only had just enough food to keep sickness, and in the worst case death, away from their camp. Normally at this time of year they’d catch a lot more animals, but their ability to catch birds and swimmers seemed to be failing far more often than usual. If only he knew why Fella and Hackett’s traps kept ending up empty! Normally they’d catch at least a couple of long-ears every second day. And even though the change in the weather is still a long way off, the cold will make it difficult to survive, and it’s important they fill up their food stock and grow fatter now. They need to intensify their hunting, and make better traps and weapons. Maybe they should even try to catch larger prey.
“Tomorrow, we’ll figure out a solution to it all. We’ll soon have food in our bellies and grow strong and happy again. That I promise.”
He can see that their eyes are resting on him while they eat what little food they have each been given.
“Maybe we should sacrifice something to … well, I don’t know, but someone or something, so that our luck might change.”
Fella is eating while he’s talking.
“I remember back then that my parents a
nd the other grown-ups always gave things and gifts to The Great Giver if they wanted more coins and more things. Maybe we should do the same?”
Dagwood looks at him and answers: “I remember the large sacrificial ceremonies from back then. But I’m having a hard time seeing how that’d fit into our little world. Back then, you’d kill an animal or a Slaveborn to get something bigger or newer for yourself. It doesn’t make sense to give a dead animal to a dead figure when it’s animals we need. And I don’t expect you’re going to sacrifice Hackett for a better bed or new shoes?”
They all start laughing as they look at Hackett, who’s hiding his face in his hand and pretending to be invisible. Everyone gets it. Except Fella. He’s not laughing.
Dagwood’s happy that the mood has changed, and he senses that the others are thinking more lightly of tomorrow even though there’s still hunger in their bellies. His eyes search for Salomon and find him sitting at the furthest spot of the trunk on the other side of the campfire.
“But now I’ll tell you what happened at the clearing earlier today. Sal shot a bird with his new rock sling, and just when he was going to pick it up a giant animal jumped forward trying to steal our prey. I’ve never seen an animal that big before in my entire life, and I thought Sal was as sure as dead. But he shouted and screamed and waved his arms, not thinking about his own life or safety. He was only thinking about holding on to the bird. He nearly managed to scare the giant away, but the fight would have been completely unfair if it’d developed, so he had to pull back. And the beast took off with our dinner.”
They all stop eating, sitting speechless with eyes wide open looking at Dagwood as he tells his story. His eyes find Salomon. He can see that Salomon’s looking at the ground and his hands are folded in his lap. He’s pressing his hands together with so much force that his knuckles are turning white and his fingertips are bright red. For a short moment, Dagwood regrets making up a far better story than he and Salomon agreed on earlier. There’s nothing he wants less than to make Salomon feel uncomfortable, but right now he sees that he’s doing just that.
“What kind of animal was it? Was it one of those that the grown-ups told us lived in the forests back in the olden days? One of those they chased with spears and dogs and that it took half a village to kill?”
Puk’s voice is trembling with excitement and curiosity and he almost stumbled over his words.
Dagwood turns towards Puk and answers: “Yes, I think it was one of the animals you used to chase back in the olden days to prove one’s worth and manliness …”
“It was a bear.”
Salomon stops Dagwood’s explanation, and everyone stops talking. The others turn their faces and attention towards Salomon and wait in suspense to hear more. But nothing else comes out of his mouth. He gets up and walks away from the fire, into the darkness. Dagwood doesn’t understand what he just said. A bear! How did he know that? He feels like running after him, but he lets him go.
Puk’s on the verge of exploding with excitement over the adventures of Dagwood and Salomon, and he can’t believe that bears really exist. And so close to the camp! He thought they were all killed by the men from the village many years ago. He starts talking across the fire.
“A bear! Well that’s just incredible. And Sal fought it to save our dinner.”
He gets up and walks over to Finch.
“If Dagwood explains what it looked like, do you think you could draw it? It’s soon time for Salomon to get his markings. He’s been with us long enough for us to know what he’s like, his peculiarities and strengths. Isn’t that right, Dag? And what could be more fitting than a drawing of a bear?”
He looks at the others and smiles.
“Salomon – the brave bear fighter.”
They all start cheering and stamping their feet on the dry ground around the fire, and slowly a cloud of dust is formed as the noise of the feet grows louder. Finch sits down next to Dagwood and starts drawing in the fine dust that’s now covering the ground. Soon they all stand still around them to see Finch’s recreation of the monster that Salomon so bravely challenged to a fight earlier today.
Salomon has reached the riverbank and is lying in the grass. He can hear the voices of the others by the fire, but he can’t hear what they’re saying. It sounds as if they’re in a good mood, and he feels an emptiness growing inside his body with the sound of their happy voices. He’s tired, and hungrier than he normally is. Dinner barely filled half a bowl, and the little food he had in his stomach before he threw up in the clearing. Now his body feels completely drained of power and energy.
He closes his eyes and draws the evening air into his lungs. It’s pure and fresh, and he can almost taste the trees and the leaves in his mouth. He draws another deep breath to keep the freshness in his nostrils. Sometimes he’s almost afraid of drawing the air in through his nose, even though it’s fresh and clean. Often the stench of death and decay returns, even though it was washed out of his clothes and hair a long time ago. There’s a part of his memory that doesn’t want to let go of the rotten stench, as if it’s a permanent reminder of what he escaped from. So he’ll never forget. Forget what happened.
Finch is almost finished drawing. For a long time Dagwood looks at the lines on the dusty ground and he’s impressed how close to the real thing the drawing is.
Finch is amazing at drawing and he’s always busy doing some kind of painting or cryptic symbol, no matter where he is or what he does. He’s done that ever since the day he became a part of the clan, and he expresses himself in drawings far more often than in words. Soon there won’t be a tree, a rock or a spot in the camp on which he hasn’t scratched, carved or drawn one of his more-or-less finished artworks. For the same reason, he’s been declared the clan’s body painter, a craft he’s taken on with great seriousness. He’s slowly developing his artistic skills into an impressive style. His level of ambition is sky high, and he surprises the other clan members again and again with his lifelike drawings. At the same time, he’s developed a technique so that the drawings he makes on the bodies are sealed in the skin and don’t disappear after the “victims” of his art have had a wash. It’s incredibly painful and bloody to have done, but it’s worth all the tears.
Dagwood’s happy and proud of the many body drawings he’s received in recognition of his physical strength and responsibility. He’s had shadows and markings made around all the large muscles on his chest and on his arms, and they emphasize them in an impressive way. He looks bigger and stronger, and they have a large mental effect on him and everyone else they meet who doesn’t already know him.
Dagwood can’t remember who came up with the idea of a ritual marking people’s personalities and characteristics on their bodies, but they’ve done it almost since the day the clan was formed. It’s drawn them closer together and created unity at a time where they are all looking for security and closeness as a replacement for what they’ve lost.
“That’s just how it was, Finch. You might think that you’d been there yourself. Now we all have to be careful not to let Sal know anything before Marking Day. Finch – can you recreate the drawing if I wipe it out now, before Sal comes back?”
Dagwood looks at Finch, who’s nodding smilingly as he wipes out the drawing of the bear with his foot.
The evening dew has embraced the leaves of the flowers and the little buzzers of the night fill the cool evening air. Salomon’s eyelids are closing slowly again and again, and he’s finding it hard to stay awake. There’s a nice quietness around him and all the voices from the bonfire seem to have turned into a low whispering. It sounds like a humming far away, and it calms him, like when he used to sit and play in his room next to the kitchen, listening to his mother’s humming.
He’s almost fallen asleep when he suddenly sees a large shadow appearing from the darkness and moving rapidly towards him. He’s struggling to see what it is, but it looks like a b
ear. In a desperate move, he tries to get up from the ground before the beast reaches him. It opens its giant mouth in front of his face while one of its paws nails him to the ground so he can’t get up. He can smell its breath of rotting meat and blood. It swings its head from side to side, roaring loudly, and the saliva from its mouth hits his face. He tries to wipe it off only to see more shadows closing in. There are lots of them and they’re approaching from all angles. They’re smaller and quicker than the slow beast in front of him. Aggressively they jump towards him and the bear, and their sharp teeth get hold of his clothes, his hair, and his vulnerable skin.
He desperately tries to cover his face with his arms. He has to move forward. Not away, but forward. It’s crucial that he moves forward past the bear and the many shadows, but something’s holding him back. He tries to wriggle out of the thing that’s holding him back, but at the same time he feels that the bear’s gotten hold of one of his arms in its teeth. It hurts, and he feels trapped, unable to move. He’s pinned down and has completely lost his grip of the situation. The bear releases his arm and starts roaring again. The deafening sound from the giant’s mouth mixes with other sounds that he’s finding it hard to pinpoint. It sounds like laughter. He tries to look around, but his vision is blurred and he can’t see anything. The only thing he knows is that he needs to move forward, but he can’t escape the iron grip holding him down. In desperation he starts yelling. It’s the only thing he can do. He yells so much that finally he hasn’t any more air in his lungs.
“Salomon, wake up!”
Puk and Dagwood are holding him, as they look at him with worried faces.
“Calm down, Sal. It was only a dream. You’re safe now.”
Salomon looks up at them with his eyes wide open. The only thing he doesn’t feel is safe.
CHAPTER 13
“You need to pull the string of the bow further back, otherwise the arrow won’t be fast enough. Come on, I’ll show you.”
The Dawn of Skye (The Someday Children Book 1) Page 8