Daywards

by Anthony Eaton

  ‘Back then, the rains’d come every year and the creeks would run, and the Skyfather would touch the land, and when he did there’d be love between him and the Earthmother, and there’d be water and lakes and all the life that came with them …’

  Ma Saria’s voice was even and unhurried as she talked about the skypeople who lived in the air and flew through it and burned the Earthmother to make their skyfire, and the Dreamers who lost their feeling for the land – burned it up until only a few of them could talk to and move with the Earthmother any more, and even they were weak. She talked about the shifting, the terrible moment when the earth tore herself wide open, and the Skyfather stopped sending his rains, and the land began dying, and the people who lived on it stopped having children.

  ‘Until one time, right when nobody thought there’d ever be another Darklander again, this girl called Jani and a bloke by the name of Dariand managed to get themselves a baby girl …’

  ‘You.’ This part of the story Dara had heard many times.

  ‘Me,’ Ma agreed. ‘And you know all about that, an’ how Dreamer Wanji pulled me over to Woormra and began to teach me my reaching, and he reckoned I was the most powerful Dreamer yet to walk the Earthmother.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Ma Saria stopped walking, mid-stride, and took Dara by her shoulders, her grip firm almost to the point of being painful.

  ‘Well, Dara girl, last night that all changed, I reckon.

  ‘Changed?’

  ‘I dunno what you and your brother were doin’ up on top of that dune, but sky knows I felt a reaching bigger than anythin’ I’ve ever managed, even when I was a young thing. You two got something new between you, child, and I want you both to be real careful how you use it, all right?’

  The old woman’s dark eyes bore into Dara’s, and at her shoulders a shiver of earthwarmth whipped down her arms.

  ‘We were just seeing if we could …’

  ‘Don’t you apologise, Dara. That’s not what this is all about, right? You just wanna be careful, both of you. ‘Cause this is something new and you two are gonna be on your own learning about it. From what I felt last night, there’s not gonna be a whole lot I can teach you about this reaching, and that’s frightenin’, but it also gives an old girl some hope, too.’

  Dara almost blurted it out: Jaran can reach the sky! But it was Jaran’s gift, and not her place to tell.

  ‘We’ll be careful, Ma.’

  ‘’Course you will.’ Ma Saria let go of Dara, and the two resumed their progress towards the low pass that Jaran and Eyna had found.

  The following afternoon they emerged from the dunes, climbing over the final ridge into a sand-blown afternoon. The moment they did so, the air changed, becoming moist and heavy, with a familiar tang to it.

  ‘Saltwater!’ Dara exclaimed. She’d known they were moving towards it; every time she reached she could feel it there, cold and massive and yet teeming with life-sparks. But the reality of its presence, so close and so vital, the bite of that sea-laden air on the back of her tongue and the salt dampness on her bare skin, brought with it an array of memories and emotions that most of the time she tried to forget or ignore.

  ‘Sky!’ Eyna exclaimed, and Dara remembered that her young cousin had never seen the saltwater with her own eyes.

  Ma Saria led the way and they followed a series of sandy game paths, most heavily marked with scat, and wound between low scrubby sandhills until the stiffening breeze carried to them the distant roar of water and sand in ongoing conflict.

  ‘You two okay?’ Ma Saria glanced anxiously at Dara and Jaran, knowing the memories this would be bringing back.

  ‘We’ll be fine, Ma.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  Jaran didn’t say a word, but his hand brushed briefly against Dara’s bare wrist, as had become his habit since the night on the dune.

  Just grab me if you need me.

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ she told him.

  I know. Me too. He let go of her wrist and followed Ma along the trail. Dara looked up to find Eyna staring at her.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded.

  ‘On with what?’

  ‘You two. He’s been doing that a lot. What’s happened?’

  ‘Nothing’s happened.’

  ‘Shi, Dara. I know you both well enough to realise when something’s different.’

  ‘We’ve just … learned a way to talk, that’s all it is.’

  Dara grinned, expecting Eyna to be pleased at the news. But her cousin regarded her blankly for a moment and her expression darkened.

  ‘So he is reaching, then?’

  ‘In a way.’

  ‘I knew it.’

  ‘You did,’ Dara agreed. ‘You were right. Can we catch up with the others now?’

  ‘Hang on. How come he’s only doing it with you? Why’s he not reaching to talk to me and Ma?’

  ‘It’s … a bit different, I think. Probably because we’re twins.’

  ‘Different how?’

  Dara didn’t want to upset Eyna, but she didn’t want to speak for Jaran either.

  ‘I can’t really tell you. It’s about Jaran, not me. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.’

  ‘Why not now? If it’s just reaching, there’s no reason he shoudn’t do it with me, too. Then we could talk properly.’

  ‘When Jaran’s ready to try it with you, Eyn, he will. Don’t worry about it.’

  Dara’s words, which she’d intended to be soothing, had no effect.

  ‘It’s not fair. I’m the one who’s been talking to him, who’s been listening to him. You’ve been ignoring him ever since we set out …’

  ‘That’s not true, Eyn.’

  ‘Shi! You still haven’t forgiven him for what happened in the city. I can’t believe he’d share something like this with you and not me. And you won’t even tell me exactly what’s going on, like I’m just a little girl.’

  ‘That’s not what it’s about. It’s different and it’s personal. I’d tell you if I could, but it’d be wrong.’

  Eyna looked as if she was going to argue the point, the anger still flashing behind her eyes, but then, without another word, she trotted off up the trail, making a beeline for Jaran’s retreating back.

  ‘Eyna … Shi!’ Dara realised what her cousin had in mind and launched herself after the younger girl, but too slowly.

  Jaran heard them coming and turned to greet them, grinning at the sight of the two girls bolting towards him. His grin faded, though, as Eyna stopped directly in front of him, her face serious.

  ‘What …’

  Before Jaran could finish, Eyna reached out and clapped her hand against the side of his neck, closing her eyes as she did so. Dara felt the hot surge of earthwarmth that her cousin pulled into herself as she reached, pushing her own awareness out into Jaran in an uncontrolled rush of energy.

  For moment it seemed that nothing was happening. Dara watched the puzzled expression on Jaran’s face give way to a look of surprise. Through her feet, there was another small tug as Eyna pulled more earthwarmth and pushed harder towards Jaran.

  And then he screamed. Dara’s eyes widened in horror as her brother’s face twisted into a mask of agony and his pupils contracted to pinpoints.

  Eyna screamed too. She was trying to pull her hand away from his neck but was unable. The two of them collapsed, still connected, falling hard and contorted to the ground, while Jaran’s scream echoed.

  And then Ma Saria was there, hurtling back down the sandy trail while Dara stood frozen in shock and disbelief.

  ‘Dara!’ Ma’s command broke through her stupor. ‘Help here!’

  Kneeling beside her brother and cousin, Dara and Ma Saria pulled them apart. The moment Eyna’s hand came away from his neck, Jaran gave a long sigh and his body relaxed, as though freed of an enormous weight.

  Eyna also flopped loose as the tension ran out of her body, but unlike Jaran, who remained unconscious, Eyna rolled aside, groaning softly and
clutching at her head.

  ‘Shi!’ Ma Saria cursed. ‘Bloody shi, girl! What in the sky were you thinking?’

  Eyna was in no fit state to answer. She rocked back and forth on the sand, her head in her hands and her body contracting into a tight curl.

  ‘Dara, look after her. Give her some water and try and calm her down!’ Ma Saria ordered.

  In a daze, Dara obeyed.

  The entire episode had happened very fast – just a few seconds from when Eyna had dashed away from their discussion until the moment she and Jaran had collapsed.

  ‘Is Jaran all right?’ Dara finally found her voice to ask.

  ‘Just look after her,’ Ma replied, an answer that set a cold shiver of nerves tingling in Dara’s toes and fingertips. There was no mistaking the command in the old woman’s voice, though, so reluctantly Dara turned aside from her brother, leaving him to Ma’s ministrations, while she knelt beside Eyna.

  ‘Here.’ Fishing her water bottle from its clip at her waist, Dara pressed it to her cousin’s lips. There wasn’t a great deal left in the bottle, and she had to tilt it back hard to set the water flowing into the girl’s mouth. In the process, she had no choice but to look into her face. Eyna’s eyes were wide with fear, her expression tight.

  ‘If you’ve hurt him any more than he already is …’ Dara began, but stopped when the words drew a whimper from her cousin, whose hands flew immediately back to her temples, clawing desperately.

  ‘Settle her down!’ Ma ordered, barely glancing up from Jaran’s prone form. Dara tried to see what the old woman was doing, but Ma had positioned her body between them, and all she could make out was her bent back as she crouched beside Jaran.

  Eyna began to writhe again, spasms of some sort contracting into violent jerking motions.

  ‘Eyna! EYNA!’ On impulse, Dara slapped the girl, quite hard, a stinging blow across her right cheek, which left the clear, crimson blush of her fingermarks. It had the desired effect. Eyna stopped thrashing and instead stared upwards, meeting Dara’s stare with shocked recognition.

  ‘I … Dara.’

  Then her eyes rolled back, her head lolled to one side, and she passed out.

  ‘After this, I’ll be happy never to go near the saltwater again,’ Dara said, poking disconsolately at the fire. ‘Nothing good ever seems to happen here.’

  Ma Saria didn’t respond, and there was nobody else in a position to answer. Jaran was still unconscious, as he’d been for two days now, wrapped in a thermal blanket they’d found among his gear and lying prone on the fire-warm sand. Eyna was in her usual place, sitting statuelike several hundred metres up the beach, at the base of the dunes. She was brooding, staring out across the ever-shifting grey expanse of water.

  Overhead, the afternoon was cloudy, a cast of heavy, dark cloud completely hiding the sky and throwing the world below into a shadowless greyland. The wind blowing off the water was cold and matched Dara’s mood perfectly.

  ‘Why don’t you go talk to your cousin for a while, eh?’ Ma Saria suggested. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him, while you two sort out your differences.’

  Dara threw Ma a scornful look and didn’t deign to answer. She’d made her feelings on that perfectly clear. She’d talk to Eyna again only when Jaran woke up. If Jaran woke up.

  ‘She needs all the help she can get, that one,’ Ma added.

  ‘Not as much as Jaran does.’

  ‘Shi, girl. Jaran’s only need is a warm place to lie and someone to keep an eye on him. That girl down there, though, she’s putting herself through all sorts of pain at the moment. Pain like you’d never understand, and you should thank the sky for that.’

  ‘Psht!’ Dara spat.

  ‘Believe me or don’t, Dara, but I know what I’m talkin’ about’. A sharp edge crept into Ma Saria’s usually steady tone.

  ‘How? I know you, Ma Saria, and you can’t expect me to believe you’ve ever done that to someone. So how in the sky can you know she doesn’t deserve everything she’s going through?’

  Ma Saria didn’t answer, but just stared into the flames. When she did speak, her voice was strained.

  ‘Two times, Dara. Two times in this long life of mine I’ve done exactly the same thing as your cousin. Worse, really, ‘cause on one of those occasions it wasn’t even an accident. I did it deliberately, and I’ve hated myself for it ever since.’

  Dara stared, dumbstruck, speechless.

  ‘So don’t you dare think I don’t know what that girl’s going through, eh? And trust me when I tell you how lucky you are you don’t have to go through it yourself.’

  The driftwood fire spat blue and green sparks into the drab afternoon.

  ‘I’m going for a walk,’ Dara said, setting off in the opposite direction to Eyna.

  It made no difference. Even if she hadn’t meant to, Eyna had still done it. She hadn’t been able to bear the idea of Dara and Jaran sharing something she wasn’t part of it. She couldn’t take it, so she’d ruined it for everyone.

  Ruined Jaran.

  So Dara didn’t care if her cousin was sorry. If she was hurting. Sky! She deserved to hurt. And if Ma Saria felt sorry for her, then that was fine for Ma Saria, but every time Dara looked at her brother’s pinprick eyes, every time she tried to spoon some bushnut porridge into his senseless mouth, the only sensation that filled her was one of unquenchable rage.

  Below her feet, the sand grew cold and firm and she realised that she’d strayed on to the hard sand near the water’s edge. She’d avoided going too near the waves, preferring to confine her activities to the soft sand high up the beach, near their campsite.

  Now, though, Dara didn’t care. Ahead of her the beach was wreathed in pale spindrift, as set after set of long, dark rollers slid in from the south and pounded themselves to oblivion against the shoreline. The beach seemed to go on forever. There were no headlands, no bays, just long stretches of sand and water.

  Perhaps I should just keep walking, Dara thought. Pull up some earthwarmth and keep going alone. Leave the rest of them back there.

  The notion was uncomfortably tempting and so she pushed it aside quickly. Her thoughts returned to her brother.

  ‘He might pull through it,’ Ma Saria had told them. ‘Sky knows for sure, but he might. It’s hard to tell, but I get a bit of a sense of him, just now and then. Just a flutter, so perhaps he just needs some time to find his way back out to us.’

  But there’d been more doubt than hope in her voice, and both Dara and Eyna had known it.

  ‘Stupid shi, all of them,’ Dara muttered.

  Once or twice, she glanced behind, half-expecting to find either Ma or Eyna following. When she found herself alone, she didn’t know whether to be pleased or mad.

  ‘Doesn’t matter, anyway.’

  She wandered daywards, occasionally trailing her feet through the cold water as the foaming waves rushed around her ankles. For the most part, though, she stayed above the point where the waves petered out. Once or twice, when particularly big waves came crashing in to break on the sand, she had to dash sideways, scuttling up the beach to avoid being overtaken by the icy water.

  Gradually, the slow ebb of the afternoon eased some of the anger from her mind, and she allowed herself to lose track of time, drifting slowly along, lost in the moment, until something on the beach ahead caught her eye. It was a large, dark shape, just above the tidal line of seaweed, which rose, round and smooth and ominous against the pale sand. In the gloomy light it threw no shadow and Dara found it difficult to judge its size. It was clearly man-made, though; nothing in the real world was that smooth or so perfectly curved.

  Coming closer, it soon became obvious that it was bigger than her, about twice her height. Cautiously she approached it, sketching a wide circle around it so that she could take in the entire object.

  It was metal of some sort, but impossible to tell what. The surface looked as though it had been through an intense fire; it was blackened and pitted, and in a number of places long ragg
ed seams had torn open. The object was roughly spherical, and on one side most of the outer skin had torn away to reveal a charred and incomprehensible array of metal tubing and wiring inside. It was tech, no question about that, but nothing else about the thing looked even vaguely familar, and Jaran’s words from their salvage trip came back to her: ‘Don’t touch anything unless you know for certain that it’s safe to do so.’

  Was this thing safe? She had no idea. It didn’t look dangerous, that was for sure. If anything, the device – whatever it was – seemed thoroughly and completely destroyed. Something about it reminded her of Da Janil in the Eye on the night of his death, his silver daysuit still wrapped protectively around his body but nothing left of life inside it, just an old, damaged shell.

  This device looked much the same. Whatever its purpose might once have been, there wasn’t much chance of it ever doing anything useful again.

  ‘I wish Jaran was here.’ He’d have known, perhaps, what the thing was.

  Carefully, Dara stretched a hand towards the object, but hesitated. Don’t touch anything you can’t reach, Ma had cautioned them, that night in the cave.

  Dara thought about it. She could reach, just a tiny amount, and see if she could feel anything. Even if all she found was that odd emptiness that Nightpeople and their tech usually gave off, it would at least give her a clue as to the thing’s origins.

  But, since reaching with Jaran on the dunes, she’d been avoiding doing it again on her own. Something inside her, some tiny voice in her head, didn’t want to, just in case it wasn’t the same any more. In case it didn’t feel right. When they’d linked their reaching, they’d been able to feel so much – Earthmother and Skyfather together at the same time – and the thought that her own reaching might no longer satisfy her had kept her ignoring the insistent push of earthwarmth below the soles of her feet, and given her the impetus to distract herself as much as possible.