Eleven Hundred Sand Dunes

by Helena Phillips

  “No, no. He hates me.”

  Ravesh’s interest increased. “Now, what would that be about? A good story, I’m thinking.”

  Trapped, Irri-tat shrank back from her, thinking rapidly and in a chaotic way about escape plans and ways of resisting the intense pressure. But her companion was uninterested in her distress. She had no patience for resistance unless it suited her purposes, which, in this case, it did not. “Let’s go!” she commanded. Her surprise at the mutinous expression on Irri-tat’s face went unnoticed by her quarry. It was impossible to forcibly take another spirit against her will. Ravesh was also trapped. Thoughts swirled around her. Chaos reigned as the two wrestled with each other’s will, Irri-tat driven by fear and Ravesh impatient to be liberated from her sentence. It came to the point where she was forced to revert to sweetness and patience.

  “Now, my dear,” she said, “you will be with me, and Sandro and Bridey will be so impressed with your visit, they will forgive you all your mistakes.” She allowed time for the idea to take root. The stubborn, intractable stance shifted slightly, and she moved in for the kill. “Okay, let’s go.” Immediately, mutiny returned. Frustrated and angry with her prey, Ravesh turned on her. “You are such a stupid little thing. I have no idea why the Source would bother with you, let alone send a spirit of my standing to commune with you.” These words had an electrifying effect.

  “The Source sent you to me?” Irri-tat was cheered by the thought she had not been forgotten or expelled from grace after all. It was a point she’d missed when Ravesh had outlined their move. Rather than responding to her bullying, she found courage in the thought she might still redeem herself. She agreed reluctantly to the task, dreading every possibility her overactive imagination could conjure up but preparing herself to accompany this spirit to whom she had taken an instant dislike.

  Ravesh herself was confused, as most fools are, about what had changed, and thus she missed an opportunity to use the information against her charge. But the project had begun. That was what was most important.

  It was early evening, and Sandro’s visitors had gone their separate ways, Bridey to a lovely family gathering, Flagran accompanying Josh to a fire in a forty four gallon drum in a seedy part of town where many of Josh’s friends hung out. The gathering greeted the two with friendliness and acceptance, glad of Flagran’s extra warmth, which always accompanied him but being particularly welcome during winter. Many stories were told around the fire, and Flagran, still on a high from Josh’s release, was letting go all his cares. The seemed restored to health and happiness. All was well. Torrenclar had taken some time for himself and gone to visit with Homarta.

  Back in the hospital, Sandro was awake. The hours awake were increasing, and with that, the length of time he had to spend alone with his fears. His Mum had taken Bridey under her wing, but it would have been better to have had her in bed beside him. The speech difficulty terrified him. His leg, released now from its suspension, was less of a worry because, although both the tibia and fibula had broken, there was no reason why they shouldn’t heal well, given his level of fitness before the accident. The arm, was largely a non-issue, although his greatest concern was about mobility with crutches. For the moment, no one would let him out of bed yet to try it out. All the medical focus was on preventing movement which might set him back, and keeping a close eye on consciousness. Being unconscious for so long, with the bruising still very evident in his speech difficulties, it appeared he was stuck where he lay for a while yet.

  Besides the concern over speech, he was still anxious about Josh, no one having returned to fill him in about what had happened with him after he’d been kicked out. He was having strange waking dreams. Little flickers of sweetness and longing which at first he attributed to Bridey, but as they still came while he was with her, that hardly made sense. Occasionally, he thought to bring his worries to the Source, but being here and being at the weigh station were two different lives. There seemed to be no connection between them, and it had all begun to feel like a dream. There were moments though when he found peace and drifted into an untroubled sleep after talking to the Source.

  Irri-tat’s arrival after dinner, with a strange spirit who appeared to know him, was unwelcome to put it mildly. A dose of Irri-tat was poor medicine, but he tried to be friendly despite remembering how angry he’d been over her attack on Bridey. Her companion had a different impact. There was something familiar about her, but he immediately recognised her aura as unhealthy. Her conversation was not at all to his taste.

  “Sandro,” she said. “How are you? What an awful time you’ve been having?” It wasn’t the words, it was how they recalled to mind women who believed themselves seductive when every fibre of his being was revolted. He stared at her. No words presented themselves.

  Irri-tat gazed at him obviously taking in the fragile state. It mustn’t have occurred to her he might be different. The face was swollen and discoloured, arm and leg in plaster, strength gone. No wonder she pitied him. As she stood quietly watching, the other moved towards him attempting to place her hands on him but seemed put out when he drew back. The feeling of knowing her grew. Irri-tat stepped forward impulsively. Without thinking, she had put out an arm to block the advance, surprising the spirit beside her and, without question, Sandro himself.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she snorted angrily at the young spirit. “How dare you?” Irri-tat drew back, and he felt a surge of protectiveness towards her but couldn’t speak or move. The unpleasant one stepped between the bed and her companion, blocking her from sight. “You don’t remember me do you?” Not with a blink did he respond. He used his eyes to stonewall. That was about the sum total of his abilities. So, she continued. “You were never meant to have that accident. If it hadn’t been for that idiot child who has given so much grief, you wouldn’t be lying here now.” His eyes widened and, taking this as a sign of progress, she pressed home her point. “Well, he’s been taken care of anyway.”

  Irri-tat had moved in order to watch his face. What she saw there made her step forward again intending to soothe him, but the other, picking up on this, turned and hissed a threat. The patient was becoming distressed, and he could feel the blood surging into his face in an angry flush, but was helpless to intervene or ask for further information. It was startling to see Irri, whose courage had always, it seemed to him, to have been completely absent, taking another step forward towards the bed. His face refused to respond when he attempted to smile, and it must have looked more like a grimace to Irri-tat because she stepped back. But when the other again attempted to worry him, she couldn’t help but put her hand on his forehead, soothing him. When she began to hum softly light vibrations flowed down her arm and into his body.

  Instantly, he began to settle, which was fortunate before a nurse doing his rounds could discover him in acute distress. The two spirits disappeared into the background while the Obs were taken and recorded. The nurse noted Pulse higher; Blood Pressure raised.

  Once he’d left the room, the dark one began her assault again rattling on about the unfairness of the accident and how much he had suffered. His eyes closed attempting to block her voice. When Irri-tat moved to soothe him again, an angry threat swept her aside. Her natural tendency to resist prompted her to move between her companion and the bed and a scuffle broke out. Sandro pulled at his fetters. It was all exhausting, and he was confused. His head ached with a fierce thumping on the bruised side. But the nasty speeches continued, and the two continued battling for his attention until he became frightened he was having a stroke. One side of his head and neck was beginning to tingle.

  ***

  Flagran vanished abruptly from the small party leaving Josh to his friends where he was at home. His arrival in the hospital room stunned and frightened Ravesh. She spluttered out a garbled attempt at an explanation of Sandro’s distress and attempted to lay the blame on Irri-tat who had managed to fix her hand on Sandro’s forehead. He ignored the younger spirit f
or the moment discerning no negatives from that direction - which was a first. Her hands continued pouring healing vibrations through his skull and over the part of his brain which was giving the patient difficulty, while Flagran addressed himself to his old companion.

  “Well, Ravesh. Twice in one day. And two of my favourite people. I can see we are heading for a meeting with the Source.”

  Anxious, she tried belligerence. “I am here on the Source’s instructions.” She was prevaricating but Flagran was not to know. “Ku has asked me to help Irri-tat with her work.” Pausing to assess Sandro’s wide eyes, he decided to call for my assistance. One flicker and the two were outside the door of the room facing each other.

  “What lies are you attempting to spread now?” he asked her coolly.

  Her decision to stick closely to the truth confused him. “The Source instructed me to assist Irri-tat with her development. We have come to visit Sandro because she has been avoiding it.”

  Flagran was quiet and she continued.

  “Now you have left her with Sandro when he was quite clearly distressed. Losing your touch Flagran?”

  “Stay here!” he commanded her. She dared not flout this because it was at his request that they’d been removed from the room. But she felt gleeful, sure Irri-tat was in for a round with Flagran. Nobody came off unscathed after an encounter with his fire.

  On re-entering the room, he found Irri-tat leaning over Sandro and whispering softly to him. His impulse to spring at her vanished when he spied Sandro’s face. It was radiating deep peace, and any agitation had vanished completely. Impressed, he moved to stand beside her, gazing down at their patient. “Beware of Ravesh, Irri,” he suggested softly. The manner of his speech was gentle, and she raised no objection at being instructed. She was also delighted to see him again and pleased he seemed happy with her. Life, perhaps, was looking up.

  “Can I stay with him tonight, Flagran,” she asked.

  He shook his head, uncertain. “Wait here for a bit Irri, while I check in with the Source. If Ravesh returns let me know immediately.” Then he vanished.

  ***

  The Source

  Encounters with Flagran were always welcome to me. Delighted he was checking in, my arms reached towards him. He hugged me but stepped back, impatient. “What are you doing with all this, my Core?” He shook his head. “I’m confused. But, it appears you are behind it.”

  “Am I to answer to you now, dear friend?”

  Flagran reddened. “Sorry. That was unwittingly rude. I don’t question your judgement. Help me discern what my responses to this should be?”

  “Explain to me your difficulty.”

  Annoyed, Flagran glared, willing me to bring him up to speed. I remained silent until he continued

  “Well, quite clearly you have asked Ravesh to team with Irri-tat. She sounds like she’s made Sandro her mission. Where am I to stand in all of this?”

  “Good question Flagran. Sandro needs protection from Ravesh. Also, Josh. Keep a keen eye out. She will attempt to cut down your friends at every opportunity.”

  He took a deep breath, and his frustration was palpable. “You are playing games with us all.” He waited, anxious for my reaction to this. As the minutes passed, his impatience became acute.

  “I don’t play games like that Flagran.” It was a bald statement, and he was left unsure of whether he had given offence. When he smiled, a tentative and winning smile, I melted. “I’m not going to explain myself to you Flagran, because at your heart you trust I know what I’m doing here, but it will become clearer, and remember I came to your aid instantly about a quarter an hour ago.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you. It’s not feeling alone in it that’s bothering me. It’s feeling confused, unsure where I’m supposed to be heading.”

  “It’s a challenging task protecting these two, yet you’ll make your way through it.” I reached for his hand, but he thrust it aside coming to lean against me. Holding firmly, reluctant to release him, I addressed the crown of his head, “By the way. Excellent work with Josh, eh?” His departure left me with a pang of regret for placing him between these two difficult spirits. When Torrenclar returned, he would take up some of the burden. Meanwhile, all was going to plan.

  Irri-tat remained with Sandro overnight, and Ravesh was banned from the room. When she attempted to return, she received a blast from the Breath at Flagran’s request. Enraged, she attempted to question me about this, but I ignored her.

  ***

  Flagran appeared at Josh’s side.

  “Where’d you head off to?”

  “Nunya,” Flagran returned smoothly.

  When Josh thought he might successfully wrestle it from him, Flagran played along while the onlookers, all on Josh’s side, cheered as a blow of his snuck under Flagran’s guard and contacted with his shoulder causing the Caretaker to wince and blow out a fast breath. Triumphant, Josh turned back to the fire keeping a watchful eye, partly ensuring the Caretaker didn’t catch him unawares, but also having his mind on Flagran’s mood. As soon as the spirit looked glum, Josh began jostling hip to hip which returned his focus to the party. Eventually, Flagran had had enough and drew Josh aside for a chat.

  “Joshie, you know that spirit who was following you this afternoon?” At the boy’s nod, he continued. “Well, you’re going to need to keep a keen eye out for her tricks. I just found her at Sandro’s bedside.”

  He reacted immediately staring at Flagran’s face. “Is he okay?”

  Flagran’s hesitation stumped him. “Well, then, why are you here mucking around with me?’

  “Because Irri-tat is with Sandro.”

  “What! That loser! She can’t get out of her own shadow.”

  Flagran gave him a slight smile. “It appears she can.” He told the boy a little about what he knew. “Ravesh will want to trick you in every way she can, Josh. Don’t talk to her, and don’t listen to her crap and let it throw you. Do you understand me?” He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, waiting.

  “It’s the awful feelings that bother me; that creepy cold stuff. But you need to be with Sandro. I don’t need you worrying about me. I’ll call you if anything goes on.” He looked up into the Caretaker’s face with all the earnest intent he could manage to convey.

  Flagran blew out his breath as he struggled to contain himself taking the boy by both shoulders and smiling crookedly. “Look at me, Josh. I’m turning into a sook. This work is getting to me.” It was meant to be a light way of shrugging off his deep affection, but the words had an entirely different effect. Josh made a firm resolution to manage as much as he could without bothering his friend. He had never seen Flagran so vulnerable.

  “Go to see Sandro. It will do him good to set eyes on you again now you’ve got things sorted. Then you can keep me in touch with what’s happening there. Agreed?”

  Josh planned to go in first thing the next morning.

  ***

  Ravesh was restless. Her charge was still in the hospital, and she didn’t dare interfere with that one. She hung around watching various events and planning her next move. The Source had instructed her to teach Irri-tat. She was determined to succeed with this mission and earn her freedom. So far, it was proving to be a great deal more difficult than she had imagined. She decided to wait for Irri-tat to finish her vigil and grab her when she came out. Her intention was to instruct the young spirit about the order of things. By the time she’d finished with her, Irri-tat would know her place, and there would be no further difficulty with who was in charge here.

  Six

  The Source

  Deep in the ranges of the Blue Mountains, Homarta and Torrenclar were enjoyed some respite. They had met near the Hawkesbury River, its wide and full flow the perfect setting for Torrenclar’s mood, and the surrounding dense bush, full of wildlife and powerful beauty, an idyllic playground for Homarta revelling in her freedom. Every opportunity, which was daylong and through the slow flow of night, her feet dug deep into t
he rich soil and humus, only her ankles showing above the floor of the bush. Many small animals, insects, birds, and butterflies surrounded her. And there were larger animals: deer, kangaroo and wallaby, koala, all the life teeming amongst the densely forested banks of a river in full and thunderous flow.

  Homarta had been delighted at the thought of Torrenclar’s company, but she found him reserved and lacking the animation he might have felt having been granted leave to play. For the two days together, his conversation was sparse, his smiles rare and haunted. She made no attempts to probe. He shared his deepest thoughts when and if he chose. Dark periods tended to be unresponsive to coaxing. On the third evening, she asked him how long he thought he might be around. “You are only here a while longer,” she said. “You leaving is becoming imminent and unwelcome.”

  He turned towards her, thoughtful.

  “What is it?” she asked watching his head move slowly from side to side.

  “I don’t feel so lonely here with you.” Sensing there was more to come, Homarta was disinclined to disturb the flow of his thoughts. “I took Bridey away for half a day,” he began. Her fingers were caressing a brush tailed possum which had curled into her lap as it passed on its way in search of food. Running the tail through her left hand, she stroked her thumb along the fur on the tiny head which she held in her right, smiling down into its eyes. It purred, quietly vibrating under her touch.

  “Maybe that was difficult for you?”

  His gloom deepened. “In many ways.”

  “Tell me.”

  His eyes dropped to her hands, and more silence followed until he let out an exasperated sigh. “She found it difficult to put herself in my hands after my absence. I struggle with the loss.”

  “Why did you leave her when she needed you so much?”

  “I can’t do it. It was excruciating watching her lose herself over the edge. Everything in me wants to rescue her.” There was something else with this Homarta concluded listening to the stilted words and an unusual tension for him.