by Arthur Slade
We were now rattling our way across flat, stony ground. The whole area had been smoothed out like a river bed.
Suddenly there was nothing but empty space in front of us. I slammed on my brakes. Fiona ground to a halt a yard or two behind.
We were on the edge of a deep ravine that stretched in either direction as far as the eye could see. It was as if the whole earth had cracked open, dividing the island in two. The chasm was fifty feet wide in some places and only about ten in others. Below us was a drop of a hundred feet or more. Sunlight didn't penetrate far enough to illuminate the bottom. All we could see was a swirl of mist and gloom.
It took me a second to catch my breath. I was glad to see Fiona was winded, too.
"I had no idea this was here," she spat out between gulps of air. "I wonder how far it goes?"
I shrugged. I scanned the open area behind us. There was no trace of the dog.
"I'm sorry," Fiona said.
"What for?"
"For ... for playing that trick on Harbard. Getting us in trouble. I sometimes do things without really thinking first. It was dumb."
I opened my mouth to say yeah, it was really dumb but the look of genuine sadness on her face stopped me. "Well ... it's alright. We seem to be okay."
"Yeah, except I dropped my sunglasses. That dog's probably chewing on them as we speak." She glanced up. "At least there are a few clouds in the sky now. I won't be squinting all the time."
"Well, we can't go back that way. I hope we can find another path home."
"That shouldn't be much of a problem. There are lots of trails out here." She pointed in a direction I believed was east. "Maybe if we push our bikes toward those trees we'll find another way, though I'm not quite up to the long ride back yet. Mind if we find some place to sit for awhile?"
"Good idea," I said. We headed across a flat space, carpeted with grass and stones. We were only a few feet from the chasm. I kept looking down, enthralled by the depth of the hole.
After a few minutes of walking Fiona motioned in front of us. "See that?"
I nodded. An hulking, ancient pine had fallen across a place where the crevice wasn't that wide, forming a bridge. We neared. Ashes surrounded the splintered remains of the trunk. It still smelled of fire.
"I bet this got hit when that storm came through," I said. "There was some pretty wicked lightning."
The whole area looked familiar to me, almost like I'd been here before, or at least seen it. It was the weirdest feeling, since this was my first visit to Drang.
Fiona kicked back her kickstand and left her bike standing next to the stump. She grabbed onto a branch and climbed up the fallen tree. She held out her arms for balance, padded back and forth, then did a graceful pirouette and bowed. She stood with her hands on her hips, looking like a female Indiana Jones. "You know, I wonder if any one else has even walked on that side of the island. We could be the first. You up for it?"
I remembered my promise to Dad. I knew we were a long way from camp right now, that if anything happened Dad would have a tough time finding us.
Fiona was staring at me. "I can't stand around all day," she said.
As long as I was careful nothing would go wrong. And besides, sooner or later I had to take charge of my own life. I gave the tree the once over. It was long and thick and seemed to be sitting pretty solid. It didn't look that dangerous.
"Okay," I said, finally, "let's go."
With some difficulty, I climbed up. I gulped some air and led the way across, picking my way past branches, being careful to step right in the middle of the tree, not on the sides where the bark was loose. When we were about half way across, I decided to look down. Dark, pointed cliff walls and sharp rocks beckoned to me. They spun in my vision. A thin, silver line of water glistened in the depths.
I stepped too far to one side and slipped.
11.
"Here! Grab on!" Fiona was lying on her stomach, reaching down.
I clung to a thick branch, my feet dangling in empty air below me. "I can't reach!"
She moved a little closer. The branch started to creak. I couldn't pull myself any higher, so I kicked out with my foot, found the edge of the tree and pushed up.
We linked hands and, with her help, I climbed to the center of the fallen tree. I sucked in a enough air to fill a zeppelin.
"You gonna live?" Fiona asked.
"Yeah," I said, once I'd calmed down and stopped feeling like throwing up. It took everything I had just to stand. My legs were wobbly and I didn't trust them anymore.
Fiona was right behind me. "Don't look down until you get to the other side. It makes it easier."
Now she tells me, I thought. I concentrated on my footing. We slowly moved along the trunk, using the tree branches for balance. It took a lifetime and then some to get to the other side. I was sure my hair had gone gray.
We jumped down. Fiona rubbed her hands together. "We better get back before nightfall. I'd hate to cross that in the dark."
I didn't want to cross it again at all. "What time is it now?" I asked after noticing that my watch was missing from my wrist. It was likely still sitting in the tent, next to my sleeping bag.
Fiona shrugged. "I don't wear a watch in the summer. But it's sometime around twelve or so, I'd guess. Enough time to take a gander around this place and get back for hot dogs. Which reminds me, did you happen to bring anything to eat?"
I dug in my fanny pack, came up with two pieces of beef jerky, a granola bar and a caramel candy. We split everything, except the candy. I bowed deeply and offered it to her, saying, "Sweets for the sour."
"I hope you enjoy your joke, 'cause I'm gonna enjoy the candy." Grinning, Fiona snatched the candy out of my hand.
It felt kind of nice to make her smile. We sat in the open on two bench-sized stones and ate. Didn't say too much. I watched birds arcing through the sky.
Fiona stretched out her legs and sighed. "So what's Missouri like?"
"Hot most of the time. We live out on a ranch near Chillicothe."
"Is your dad a rancher?"
"Kind of. Dad trains bird dogs."
"Bird dogs? Do they have wings?"
"No." For a second I wondered if she was serious, then I saw the smirk on her face. "They're dogs that hunters use. Dad comes up to Saskatchewan every year in the late spring for a few months to train them. It's just too hot and muggy in Missouri. Our hired man is doing it right now, while Dad takes a break."
"You must get sick of the barking."
"You don't even hear it after awhile." I found myself wanting to tell her about my father. "Dad's a writer. Or a collector, I guess. He likes to collect modern versions of all the myths and folk tales from the Norsemen. He has a book contract with one of the big publishers in New York. He just has to finish the last chapter. He's been working on the whole thing for three years."
"Man, that's a long time," Fiona said. She picked up a small stone and tossed it about twenty feet. It rolled into the chasm. She then looked me right in the eye and asked, "So, do you have lots of friends down there in the States?" Her eyes were a light shade of green and I gotta say I was spellbound by them. They were the kind of eyes you'd expect on a Valkyrie. Fierce, proud, perfect, glowing with—
"Hello! Earth to Michael." Fiona waved her hand in my face.
"What? What did you ask me?" I asked.
"Do you have lots of friends or do you bore them to death with long pauses in your conversations?"
"Uh ... no, not too many friends. We came to Missouri two years ago and I found a couple good pals. But their fathers were laid off by a manufacturing company and forced to find work out of state. So about half-way through the year they moved and I was kind of on my own"
"I know what you're saying, I just started going to a private school in Victoria. Mom and Dad thought it would be better for me. 'Course, I didn't know a soul there."
"Well, I must admit, I'm not completely alone. I actually hang out with my sister quite a bit. We're twins
."
"Really? So, tell me: if she studies for an exam, do the answers appear in your head, too?"
I laughed. "No. If they did, I'd be a straight A student. She always gets higher marks than me. Specially this year."
"It must be great to have a sister. I'm an only child."
"Really? That must be tough."
"What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Well, who do you blame your mistakes on? That's what siblings are for."
She laughed. "I just blame everything on my parents."
"I guess that works," I said. "So what do your parents do?"
"Dad's a Prof at the University of Victoria. Mr. Engineer of the Year—whoopty-do." Fiona twirled her finger in the air. "And dear ol' Mom is a graphic artist."
"Don't you like them?"
She shook her head. "I don't have to like them, do I? Just lump them. They're kind of hard to get along with sometimes. Well, most of the time. Always telling me what to do. And I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a little headstrong. At least that's what they keep telling me." She grinned.
"Is that why you came to Drang? To get away?"
Fiona nodded. "An unplanned vacation. I had a fight with mom over this summer school she wants me to go to. It's for musically gifted children."
"What instrument do you play?"
"Ukulele."
"Really?"
"No." Fiona gave me this look like I was about as smart as a toad. "Piano, when I'm forced to. It's what all the hoighty-toities make their teen prodigies play. Or violin. Registration is this weekend, so I slipped out the back of the cabin. Mom and Dad probably won't notice I'm gone until they call for me to get in the car. I'll go back tomorrow and get yelled at in stern, authoritative tones."
"Won't they be looking for you?"
She shook her head. "I've done it before. Their new approach is to ignore anything bad that I do. They figure I just want attention."
"If you really want their attention, just crash your Dad's car."
"What do you mean?"
"Last winter, I told some guys on our basketball team that I drove Dad's Mustang all the time. It's a `67. I was just bragging, trying to impress them. So they dared me to bring it to practice. I did and gave a few of them a ride. But it was a wet, snowy day and the wipers weren't really working. Plus, the windshield fogged up. Next thing I knew I hit a post in the parking lot and the car got hung up on it. The guys piled out and I was left there."
"Did you wreck the car?"
"Not really, just dented the fender. And gave it a flat tire, too. It was more a trust thing. Mom and Dad didn't have much faith in me after that. Not that I was all that high on their 'People To Depend On' list before."
"I take it you don't have your license yet. How old are you, anyway?"
The question surprised me. My heartbeat quickened. "Fifteen ... that is, I turn fifteen in a few days."
Fiona nodded wisely. "I remember when I turned fifteen."
"When?" How old was she?
"Two weeks ago. Mom and Dad bought me the kayak. They didn't guess I'd be using it so soon."
Just fifteen. It wouldn't be long before we'd be the same age. There was something kind of nice about that.
Without any warning, Fiona elbowed me. I almost shot straight in the air. She was squinting into the distance. "You know that animal you saw in the woods?"
"Y-yes."
"What if I told you I just spotted it?"
12.
I scrambled to my feet. "What? Where?"
Fiona pointed at the tree we'd just crossed. "I saw it about half way down the trunk. It wasn't very big."
Walking as quietly as we could, we moved toward the tree, eyes peeled. We were only a few feet from the edge of the chasm. "Can you see it?"
She motioned. "There, it's in the branches, coming toward us."
Then I saw it, about thirty feet away. An ebony shape, rustling from shadow to shadow, hidden by pine needles, hardly making them wiggle. It hadn't seen us yet. I still couldn't tell what the creature was, it was so dark and so good at blending in with its surroundings.
We crouched near the edge of the chasm, behind the topmost branches of the fallen tree. Staring. Now our little visitor was completely hidden by green. A branch moved. A second later, a pine cone fell into the depths. Then the animal darted across an open space into more shade. It stopped about two yards away from us; didn't make a sound for a few minutes. I wondered if it had heard something. Or had it picked up our scent?
I put my finger to my lips and Fiona nodded as I grabbed a broken stick the size of a baseball bat. It had been burnt on one end.
I used it to slowly part the branches.
We peered in. Nothing. I lifted another section of needles. Something there?
I leaned closer, pushing the stick further into the branches.
And finally, there it was; the strangest creature I'd ever seen. Its hairless body seemed to shimmer, though it was dark as tar.
Two eyes narrowed. It hissed. It wasn't a cat-like sound at all.
"Michael, I think—"
The animal burst from the tree and into the air, straight at me. It grew larger, stretching taller and wider, looking almost human. I thought I could see claws and a gaping mouth riddled with teeth. I threw out my hands. The thing hit my chest, but it had no weight. Instead it seemed to pass right through me.
Its touch froze the blood in my veins. My muscles stiffened. I wobbled, then caught a stone with my heel and collapsed backwards onto the ground. Rocks jabbed my spine and my ribs. The last bit of air in my lungs whooshed out of me.
I turned my head to see the thing bounding across the plateau. It was small again and seemed to be scampering on two legs, heading at odd angles, back and forth, like it was lost. It wasn't shaped like any animal I'd ever seen. It hopped over an outcropping of stone and disappeared.
"What on earth was that?" Fiona asked.
I waited for my breath to return. Then I slowly, carefully, sat up. "I have no idea, but I don't ever want to see it again."
Fiona was standing next to me now, looking concerned. "It didn't hurt you, did it?"
"Not that I can tell." I poked at myself. To my amazement there weren't any scrapes or sore spots on my chest and arms.
She extended her hand, helped me to my feet. Her grip was warm and sure.
"It didn't even hit me," I said. "It's like it passed right through. Did you see what it looked like?"
"No, only a blur."
"Did it ... did it seem to get larger then shrink down again?"
"What?"
I rubbed the back of my head. "It changed size as it came at me."
"That's just your imagination. The thing wasn't any bigger than a cat." I wasn't sure if she was right, but I didn't want to argue any more. Fiona looked toward where it had last disappeared. "Do you think it was following our trail?"
I shrugged. "Who knows."
Then I remembered why this place looked so familiar. It had appeared in the nightmare I'd had our first night on Drang. I'd followed a specter over a fallen tree.
How could I dream something and then actually see it, days later?
I glanced at the real tree and at our bikes, waiting on the other side. Things seemed safer over there.
Fiona caught my eye. "You're not thinking of going back, are you? Not so soon. We've only been here a few minutes."
"Yeah, and look what's happened." I resisted telling her about my nightmare. After all the Norse stuff I'd babbled about, she probably already thought I was a bit crazy.
Fiona punched my shoulder, softly. "Don't be a party pooper. Why don't we explore this direction, away from that ... that ... whatever it was?"
"What if there are more of them?"
"Well ... we won't poke them with a stick. They'll probably just run away like that one did. C'mon, let's take a look around."
My body was still feeling stiff. It'd be good to walk some of it out, I decided. I wouldn't
want to get back up on that tree bridge with aching muscles.
We headed westward across an open plain littered with smashed rocks. It looked like Thor himself could have been here, testing out his hammer. Or maybe giants had played a vicious game of Murder Ball. We picked our way around the debris. Green grass and small trees still found a way to grow, working their way in between cracks and into small patches of soil. I was glad I had good hiking boots on and equally happy when a cloud drifted between us and the sun. I'd been sweating like a pig, I hoped I didn't smell like one.
Soon the rocks grew in size and the ground sloped upwards. We squeezed by two stones that could have been brought over from Stonehenge. This part of the island was much rougher.
"I've never seen anything so desolate," Fiona said. We came to a small rise, but all that lay in front of us was more of the same.
Fiona led me down a narrow path which gradually descended a long ways. It became a pass with rocks on either side of us. We went from shade to light to shade and finally stumbled into a small ravine. Fiona turned a corner and immediately stepped back, almost into me.
"What is it?" I stopped.
She pointed at a steel pole sticking out of the ground.
Next to it was a body.
13.
Actually it was half a body.
Of a goat.
And it looked like someone had torn it in two and left just the top part. The animal was chained to a thick steel pole that jutted straight up into the air. It would have taken a pretty big guy to hammer that rod right into the rock.
A few feet behind the goat was an obelisk, similar to the ones at Harbard's except this stone was as black as a starless night. It was set flush against the rock wall. Runes were printed in red across its surface. The grass, which had managed to sprout in corners and cracks all across the ravine was dead all around the stone.
Flies buzzed around. I caught a whiff of the carcass and felt the urge to barf.
"That's pretty gross," Fiona said, "about the grossest thing I've ever seen."
We moved upwind from the goat's body. I ran a hand through my sweat-slicked hair. The sun turned this spot into a frying pan—the day wasn't getting any cooler.