Daywards

by Anthony Eaton

  ‘Dara?’ Eyna was beside her in an instant, her touch hot and alive after the dead-fish crawl of Jaran’s flesh.

  ‘It should have been me.’ Dara shook her head in disbelief. ‘If I hadn’t escaped …’

  ‘Quiet, girl!’ Ma Saria snapped, more sharply than she’d ever addressed Dara before. Then the old woman crouched beside Jaran and carefully rested a hand against the side of his neck. Even from where she was standing, Dara saw her struggle to resist that same wave of revulsion that had forced her to withdraw her own touch so quickly.

  ‘Ma … sorry.’ Jaran struggled to get his mouth around the words and Ma Saria’s rigid expression softened. Without replying, she glanced back over her shoulder at the two girls.

  ‘You reckon you can help me get him up?’ she asked Dara.

  ‘I think so.’ Now she knew what to expect, Dara hoped it’d be easier. She feigned confidence as she grasped one of Jaran’s arms.

  ‘Here, Ma, let me.’ Eyna moved to his other side and the two of them lifted him back to his feet, supporting him between them as he swayed unsteadily.

  Despite being prepared, Dara had to struggle against the swamping emptiness of her brother, and she threw her cousin a curious look.

  ‘Can’t you feel it?’

  Eyna nodded. ‘Of course. It’s like there’s nothing there.’

  ‘It doesn’t bother you?’

  ‘Yeah, it does. But look at him, Dara.’

  Carefully, with Ma Saria leading the way, they walked across the muddy ground until they were standing once more on the firm, leaf-littered forest floor. As they retreated from the immediate vicinity of the Eye, the teeth-grinding buzz of the skyfire faded, much to Dara’s relief. The cold circle of Jaran’s arm around her neck, though, still made her skin crawl.

  As they stepped into the twilit shadows of the canopy, Ma Saria stopped for a moment, scratching her head, then took Jaran’s arm in her hand, examining the silver band of metal looped around his wrist. Dara wondered if it was the same one he’d had in his pack during their trip to the city, but that one had been too narrow to fit over Jaran’s hand, and had no visible hinge or seam, so she couldn’t see how he could have put it on.

  Jaran stood passively, still supported by the girls, while Ma took the band gingerly between the fingers of her right hand. The old woman closed her eyes and Dara could almost feel the effort it cost her to draw up earthwarmth this close to the Eye. Then Ma’s face contracted briefly with strain, before she opened her eyes and dropped the hand.

  ‘Looks as though we’ll have to do this the other way,’ she muttered and then addressed the girls.

  ‘You wait here. If I’m not back in ten minutes, take him and go.’

  ‘Where are you …’

  But Ma was already stepping back out into the orange glare of the clearing and making her way towards the Eye, her gait grimly determined.

  The two girls watched her progress. Dara fancied that she could see the moment when Ma Saria reached that invisible, humming line of energy that now held the Eye separate from the surrounding forest. The old woman’s step didn’t falter but there was suddenly a slight stoop about her neck and shoulders, as though she was walking under the burden of a heavy weight. A moment later she disappeared up the steps and into the Eye.

  Between them, Jaran slumped again into a shallow faint and they eased him carefully to the ground, arranging him below a broad-leafed shrub that would keep some of the drizzle from his face.

  Not that Jaran would have noticed.

  Looking at him, Eyna shook her head sadly and then directed a penetrating stare at Dara.

  ‘What did you mean when you said it should have been you?’

  Around them, the forest seemed preternaturally silent. Even the wind had died, and the question hung between them for a long moment.

  ‘They were going to do … something … to me. Some sort of interrogation, Drake called it. They wanted to know where you and Ma Saria were, and even though I told them I didn’t know, they wouldn’t believe me. They said if I didn’t help they’d force the information out of me and that the process could … damage me.’

  ‘So you think they did it to Jaran, instead?’

  Dara stared down at her feet. ‘It looks like it.’

  ‘I thought you said they wanted us all. Us kids.’

  ‘That’s what they told me.’

  ‘Then why’d they leave him behind? Why not take him, too?’

  Dara was unable to find any sort of explanation. The only sound was the steady drip of a thousand droplets falling from the canopy above. Then Jaran’s voice, weak, unsteady and clearly struggling, floated up from the ground.

  ‘Left … a message.’

  Both girls stared down. Jaran met their eyes as best he could.

  ‘Message … Dara and Ma Sar …’ His words were slurred and indistinct. Dara and Eyna crouched on either side of him.

  ‘What message, Jaran?’ Dara prompted.

  His eyes began to roll in their sockets, but with a visible effort he pulled himself back for long enough to deliver Drake’s words.

  ‘Me. I’m … the … message.’

  Then he was gone again.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Eyna looked at Dara, who could only shrug helplessly.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter, anyway.’ While they’d been crouched over Jaran, Ma Saria had returned, unnoticed, from the Eye. Now she too fell to the ground, looking spent but vaguely triumphant. ‘We got no interest in anything those shi have to say to us. No interest at all.’

  ‘Are you all right, Ma?’

  ‘Fine, girl. Just give me a moment here. In the meantime, use this on your brother, eh?’

  She threw a piece of tech at Dara, who caught it reflexively. It was a flat, narrow scanner of some sort, which fitted neatly into the palm of her hand.

  ‘What do I do with it?’

  ‘Jus’ touch that wristband. Should work automatically.

  Dara did as she was told and the moment the scanner came into contact with the metal band it popped free with a barely audible ‘click’, opening up along an invisible seam and falling onto the forest floor. The moment it left his arm, Jaran let out a deep sigh and, even though he was still unconscious, his body took on a subtle change, relaxing slightly.

  ‘Good girl,’ Ma said, grinning. ‘You feel that?’

  ‘What?’ Dara stared at Ma Saria, but before the old woman could reply, Eyna answered.

  ‘He’s back!’

  And Dara realised that, fluttering and weak though it was, her brother’s familiar, connected spark was right there again beside her.

  A murky, blood-red sunrise was glowing overhead. After the removal of his wristband, Jaran had fallen into a deep sleep, and they’d arranged a rough shelter over him and waited while he slept and the storm continued to abate. When the grey twilight of predawn eventually slid between the branches, slowly revealing the dripping forest, Ma and Eyna had taken themselves back down to the escarpment caves, to forage for supplies they might have missed in the darkness, leaving Dara to watch over her brother.

  Sleeping, Jaran looked childlike. Carefully, not wanting to disturb him, she reached out and wiped a couple of drops of rain, which had managed to dribble through their hastily thrown-together shelter, from his forehead. Below her fingers his skin was still cold, but there was no trace of the clammy emptiness of earlier.

  As she studied him, his features once again recalled in her those of their father, and she felt the familiar tug of regret that always accompanied those particular memories. The mist-grey light crept into the shadow of the shelter and gradually revealed the same broad nose and wide cheeks, the same dark, tightly waved hair and long jawline, that she’d grown up knowing as well as her own.

  He’d been almost viable, their father. Not quite, but close. Unlike most of the men – his older brother Xani, for example – Gaari had been capable of hunting until well into the morning, and then again d
uring the late afternoon. Only during the middle hours of the day, when the sun was at its zenith and the forest floor brightly dappled with light strong enough to burn him, did Gaari need to retreat to the shadows of the caves, or to a deep overhang in the escarpment or some other suitable shelter.

  Now, staring at her sleeping brother, Dara closed her eyes and in a moment she was eight again, her father’s voice stirring her from sleep.

  ‘Come on, you two. Time to get moving.’

  Reluctantly, Dara opened her eyes.

  They’d been woken up well before dawn, as usual. The sleeping cave was filled with the warm fug of bodies, and around them their uncles, aunties, cousins and elders were all slowly emerging into wakefulness, yawning and stretching. Someone had stoked up the fire, providing a little light, and a couple of old powerlamps glowed in the far shadows. Whispered conversations echoed off the rock walls and roof and, on the far side of the cave, Da Janil was already dressed in his dayclothes and slipping out around the cloth-covered cavemouth, heading down the hill for his usual walk in the forest before sunrise forced him to retreat back into the meeting cave for the day.

  ‘Dara, Jaran. Up you get, you pair of shiftie slackbones!’

  Their father’s tone was gently teasing and beside her Jaran groaned softly. Dara basked for a brief moment in the warmth of his back pressed against her own, shivering as she pulled their blanket tighter around her.

  ‘No time for that.’ Grinning, Gaari leaned down and whipped the blanket away, ignoring the howls of protest from his two children. ‘Come on! Get up and start getting ready. We’ve got a big day ahead.’

  ‘You took all the blanket again,’ Jaran accused, rolling over and springing to his feet, instantly awake now that his warm cover had been removed.

  ‘Did not,’ Dara responded. ‘You kicked like a hopper all night. As usual. It’s not my fault if you keep kicking the cover onto me.’

  Jaran grinned. ‘Perhaps if you could hunt a bit better, we’d have enough skins to make you your own blanket and you wouldn’t have to share mine all the time.’

  Dara poked her tongue at him. They both knew she was just as good a hunter as he was. Probably better.

  ‘That’s enough, you two. Their father tossed their hunting kits down from the ledge where they were stored. ‘Get your kits on and let’s get moving.’

  ‘Aren’t we having breakfast?’ The bantering tone had gone from Jaran’s voice. Breakfast was his favourite meal of the day. Apart from lunch and dinner.

  ‘We’ll eat something down the trail a little way. I want to get moving fast this morning.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Dara asked, suddenly curious. This wasn’t their usual routine.

  Gaari winked. ‘Can’t tell you. It’s a secret.’

  ‘But Dad …’

  ‘Meet you outside.’ Ignoring their protests and grinning annoyingly, their father was gone from the cave in seconds. Jaran and Dara looked at one another and Jaran raised one eyebrow.

  ‘You got any idea what he’s planning?’

  ‘Nope,’ Dara said. ‘Guess there’s only one way to find out, eh?’

  They took only a few moments to get dressed and ready, slinging their spears across their shoulders and their hunting pouches around their waist before stepping out into the cool darkness outside. The morning was still, with a faint dewy feel about the air. Their father was waiting beside the path down to the meeting cave, chatting quietly with Uncle Dernan and Uncle Xani.

  ‘… be good for them,’ he was saying, but Uncle Xani shook his head.

  ‘It’s a needless risk.’ Even in the faint starlight it was obvious Uncle Xani was unhappy.

  ‘It’s my choice, bro. They’re my littlies.’

  ‘They’re everyone’s. You know that as well as I do.’

  Despite his brother’s dour demeanour, Gaari laughed softly.

  ‘ ’Course I do, mate. And that’s why we gotta make sure they’re taught as much as possible. And as soon as possible.’

  ‘If Da Janil finds out what you’re doing with them …’

  ‘It’s none of Da’s concern. Suddenly their father’s voice had a hard edge to it. ‘Just like it’s none of yours, brother.’

  Uncle Dernan spotted the two children listening, and he cleared his throat pointedly. Gaari turned to them, his face set in its usual grin.

  ‘’Bout time. I was gonna come in with a water flask in a couple of moments. You both ready?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Let’s go, then.’

  Without another word to either of the two uncles, he led the way down the hill, Dara and Jaran falling easily into step behind him. Once they were past the meeting cave, Jaran spoke up.

  ‘What was all that about, Dad?’

  Gaari feigned ignorance. ‘All what?’

  Jaran didn’t bother answering, but simply stopped walking and waited. With most of the adults, that sort of disrespect would have earned him a sharp clip over the side of the head, but their father simply laughed.

  ‘I’ll tell you a bit later on, mate. Once the sun’s up.’

  He didn’t need to explain any more. They both knew exactly what he meant. By the time the sun came up, Uncle Xani, along with the rest of them, would be safely tucked away in the meeting cave, guaranteed out of earshot.

  They stepped into the shadows of the saltwater forest and stood there, opening their senses just as their father had taught them. In the early morning, with the moon waning low on the nightwards horizon and the faint starlight dappled into nothingness by the canopy, they’d rely on their senses: navigating by listening for the tiny changes in the sound of the ground underfoot, tasting the air for increased moisture or salt, feeling the shifting breeze on their skin for some sense of direction. And all the time, with every sense, they tuned into the rhythm of the bush around them, probing and searching for that tiny pulse, that almost inaudible shift or inexplicable layer of stillness that would tell them that prey was nearby – some creature, aware of their approach and perhaps frozen into indecision, or attempting to slink quietly away, or preparing to stand and fight.

  In this way, with the slow pulse of the pre-dawn forest muttering around them, Gaari led his children into the morning, weaving them along almost-invisible game trails, ducking below dew-heavy cobwebs, and winding between tree trunks as thick as several men. Once in the forest they didn’t speak. Not even a whisper. They simply flowed through the darkness, silently and steadily.

  After about an hour, as the first hints of dawn were appearing between the branches overhead, Dara stopped, frozen mid-step. The other two did likewise. The morning paused around them and Dara closed her eyes, controlling her breathing and seeking out again the tiny shift she’d felt, until a faint noise, deep in the undergrowth to their left, made her spin and raise her spear in one fluid motion, tracking the sound with effortless ease now that she was fully attuned to it.

  Before she could send her weapon flying, though, her father’s hand clamped down on her arm, stopping her. She threw him a puzzled look but relaxed and lowered her spear, and two hoppers, a doe and a joe, scurried out of the brush, barely glancing at the intruders before bounding down the trail ahead, the rhythmic thumping of their graceful gait echoing through the still air long after the two animals had vanished.

  ‘Well spotted, Dara.’ Gaari’s teeth gleamed white against the night. ‘I didn’t think either of you’d pick that one up.’

  ‘Lucky,’ Jaran muttered, but he was grinning too.

  At sunrise they lit a small fire in a clearing and heated some springwater to which Gaari added a few strips of sundried meat, along with several handfuls of starchy nuts and a small bundle of pepperleaves. Then all three relaxed on the damp, leaf-littered ground while the forest woke up. Dara lay on her back, enjoying the coolness and the tingling sensation of warmth that always seemed to flow into her when she was fully in contact with the ground.

  ‘What was all that stuff with Uncle Xani about, then?’ Jaran ask
ed.

  Gaari fixed his son with a mock glare. ‘You never forget anything, do you, mate?’

  Jaran didn’t answer, but grinned back at his father, who sighed.

  ‘Uncle Xani doesn’t reckon I should be taking you so far out to hunt nowadays.’

  ‘He scared you’ll get exposed?’

  ‘Nah. Your uncle knows I’m a big enough boy to make my own decisions ‘bout that stuff. He’s nervous something might happen to one of you two.’

  ‘Us?’ Dara sat upright and stared at their father, perplexed. ‘What could happen to us? Uncle Xani knows that we’re both viable.’

  ‘It’s not exposure he’s worried about.’

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Everything else, I guess. Don’t forget that Xani’s spent his whole life trapped near the escarpment, more or less. Apart from a couple of salvages. He doesn’t know the forest like we do. He’s scared of it.’

  ‘But it’s none of his business,’ Jaran interrupted, indignant. ‘What gives him the right to tell us what to do?’

  ‘I dunno, mate. It’s got something to do with Da Janil. But I’m not sure what, exactly. That’s the downside of spending so much time out of the meeting cave, I guess. I don’t get told much of what’s going on. Doesn’t matter, anyway.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Gaari’s grin spread into a wide smile.

  ‘ ’Cause it’s not like any of them can do much to stop us, is it? I don’t see Da or Xani following us this morning, for example.’

  All three of them laughed, and Dara relaxed again. In a tree overhead, a cacklebird swooped down and observed them, before joining in the laughter, its raucous cry shattering the silence and resonating through the still trees.

  ‘Breakfast’s ready.’

  Jaran helped his father to ladle out the stew. The rich, meaty smell filled Dara’s nose. As soon as Gaari passed her bowl across, she spooned up a large mouthful and then spat it out again almost as quickly, as the scalding mixture seared the roof of her mouth.

  ‘Steady, girl!’ Gaari shook his head. ‘It’s not goin’ anywhere, you know.’