Between Family: The City Between: Book Nine

by Gingell, W. R.

  Well. I was out here in solid darkness and there was nothing to do but walk forward. If it was forward I was walking, anyway. Foot up, foot down; moving onward (presumably) moving forward (hopefully); desperately trusting that the trampoline of darkness beneath me wasn’t becoming less solid as I walked.

  I had a few nasty moments where it seemed like the ground might actually be getting less solid beneath me before it occurred to me that rather than getting thinner, it was actually getting lighter. By the time I’d realised that, the lighter, straw-like patches of ground that made the earth look see-through were beginning to take on the appearance of light-edged grass and sticks instead as the earth itself turned to soil that was almost not see-through.

  I kept walking as light gathered, glancing around for signs of Kevin or the bunyip—or even an idea of where I was. I saw no sign of any other living thing, but the confusing criss-cross of dark strands and shadows that made up the tunnel-like world around me was distractingly familiar. It would have taken two of Zero to reach out a hand to either side and just touch fingers in the middle; it was higher than my house, with a few speckled motes of dirt or mould fluttering gently downward toward me.

  Nope, not mould: leaves.

  “Flamin’ heck,” I said, my voice too thin and scratchy. “I’m inside the hedges!”

  That was exactly where I was: I was inside the hedges that made up the labyrinth out in the heirling trials arena. Through the criss-crossed branches and leaves I could vaguely see the world outside, but with the same kind of muddiness that seemed to overlay the sounds I should have heard from inside. I could clearly see birds darting along the path in the labyrinth; but in here, I couldn’t hear more than the very faint suggestion of birdcall.

  My kitchen window led to the inside of the labyrinth walls? That was sure to come in handy—or turn dangerous, more likely. There had to be a benefit to it, though; something we could use, something that gave as an edge. Maybe something that gave us an out.

  I didn’t have time to think about that right now, though; I had a lycanthrope to rescue. I was still in a labyrinth, but it was a labyrinth of a different kind. I didn’t know which way the bunyip had gone, except that if it had gone the same way I was facing, I was pretty sure it would have left a few more marks on the inside of the hedge.

  And thinking of marks on the inside of the hedge—there was no way the bunyip wouldn’t have left a good trail through here. Even if it was able to control the claws on the end of its gangling arms, which I had reason to doubt, there were other claws spurring out from its knobbly elbows, and those would take nice big chunks out of any hedge it passed through.

  Sure enough, there were gouges here and there along the hedge to my left: a deep cut in the branches to the left, then a slash in the branches to the right, as if the bunyip bumbled from side to side as it walked. It probably did. Despite the claws, it hadn’t struck me as being a particularly graceful creature.

  Even when it had been slashing at me with its elbow planted and its claws slicing, it had been too slow and clumsy to really worry me, which made me wonder exactly how the lycanthropes had been so quickly and badly injured. There was also the fact that Kevin hadn’t seemed to be slashed so much as punctured, and I wondered again at the tail I thought I had seen as the bunyip vanished. Huge claws and uncanny-valley-esque arms were more frightening than dangerous, so what was so dangerous about the bunyip?

  I bet it was that flamin’ tail. It probably sat in the front of its lair to frighten people off with the big claws, ugly face, and stupid arms; the real danger was probably that tail. I remembered reading about bunyips a long time ago, but apart from the fact that they lived in waterholes and dams and poked their heads out to scare passersby, I didn’t know too much. If it was a possibility that there were other dangers about it, I’d have to be more careful when I was on the bunyip’s turf.

  In the meantime, I thought, stepping carefully along the path too quickly to avoid every noisy twig but too slowly for my peace of mind, at least I wasn’t as likely to be attacked in here. It had to be safer in here, right? I was surrounded by sticks and leaves that looked a bit too alive for comfort, and I was on the trail of a bunyip, but at least all of the contestants were outside.

  I hoped so, anyway.

  I was soon to know that at least a few of them were, at any rate: the birds in the lane that ran beside the hedge scattered with the faintest of warning cries and something else moved through the lane, footsteps heavy and percussive rather than audible. It was big and it looked dangerous, but somehow it didn’t look very self-assured in its dangerousness; with shoulders like a gorilla and arms nearly as long, a sword bigger than Zero’s strapped to its back, it should have been strutting along the lane. Instead, as I watched, it sorta sidled along the pathway, one arm hanging awkwardly. I thought it was injured at first, but after a little while of watching it, I was pretty sure it was just dead scared and tentative about moving around.

  Flamin’ heck. If something the size of your average station-wagon and the reach of a gorilla was scared to be walking along in the labyrinth lanes, I had probably been a bit too casual about my jaunt out to Morgana’s place with Zero. We’d had to fight our way through, yeah, but I didn’t see either the rock dusters or the group we’d faced worrying something this big and well-armed. Not everything big was a good fighter, but I could see the muscles on the creature, as well as the number of scars; this fella had been through a lot.

  Whoever he was, he drew even with me in heavy silence then passed by just as a blink of light and darkness fluttered near the end of the lane. It drew my attention immediately, since the twilight world around me was already shades of dark and light rather than colour, and I distinctly saw two figures striding swiftly and confidently around the corner and into the lane that ran alongside my hedge.

  I was pretty sure that these ones were fae; well-armed and well-practised, they carried themselves like Zero. They knew how to fight, and even if they were half his size, I was pretty sure they would do more than a bit of damage together. Were they both heirlings, or had they both come into the trial arena because they were together when it started? They were identical in appearance except for their hair, and so beautiful that even with one of them wearing what looked like a more masculine style of hair, both could have been either male or female.

  Twin heirlings, I decided, my eyes flicking up ahead to the mastodon who had just passed. He hadn’t looked around, but I was pretty sure he knew the twins were there; he had begun to move more quickly, though not at a run, and now instead of seeming cautious and worried, his walk was purposeful and intent. He definitely knew they were there, and he definitely didn’t want to turn around and face them.

  I had a lycanthrope to rescue or I might have tried to help the lone fighter. As it was, I didn’t dare leave Kevin on his own for as long as it would take to find out how to get through the hedge and into the labyrinth again, not to mention the time it would take to help the lone creature in the fight—or defend myself from him if he decided that it was better for only one champion to be around at the end of things.

  I couldn’t help feeling guilty as I kept going, despite that. I heard the faint clash of metal meeting metal and a yell as I passed on, and something wet hit the hedge in a spray that fluttered across the leaves. I hurried on, gritting my teeth and turning my attention back to the gouges in the hedge branches that marked the path to Kevin. If I didn’t get to him soon, I didn’t think he was likely to make it.

  I walked for longer than I’d hoped to walk, turning corners and following the gouges in the hedge, until they stopped. Heck. What now? Maybe I should have brought one of the other lycanthropes with me to help smell out my quarry. My training in life hadn’t taught me how to track bunyips through the inner parts of a labyrinth hedge, and Zero hadn’t done much to help in that way, either.

  It was probable that the bunyip had somehow left the inside of the hedge to get into the labyrinth section, but I was more i
nclined to think that it was likely to still be inside. Just maybe in a more expanded part of the hedge.

  I threw a look around and found a couple of hedge branches that had been unceremoniously cut from higher up, tumbling down into the lower branches just a few steps on from where I was. On the other hand, if I looked behind me there was a distinct glimmer of Between to the hedge that suggested there was a path there to be taken if I could trust it.

  Unbidden, I heard Athelas’ voice in my head. What about that path? That one looks promising.

  “Shut up, Athelas,” I said. Then I took the path that hadn’t prompted that wormy little voice to speak, distrusting the voice on principle even though my own subconscious had been the author of it.

  I pushed through the hedge between the shorn branches, but somehow I didn’t exactly leave the inside of the hedge. Instead of finding myself pushing through the branches to the outside of the hedge, the hedge itself stretched out until it was heat shimmer or sky, or mountain far away, and suddenly there was a swelling plain spreading out in front of me. A few steps forward brought me properly into that world, though I could fancy I still felt the twiggy, leafy ground beneath my boots instead of the grass that my eyes told me was there. Ahead of me was a waterhole partially bounded by trees. Half the size of a football field, that waterhole was nearly perfectly round in shape, with an overhang of rocks that opened out in what was very nearly a path in my direction.

  I didn’t know how, but the hedge was still somehow there above my head, too; above me wasn’t quite sky and wasn’t quite hedge, and that made me uneasy. I could have been in Queensland, if the sun was shining down brightly on my head. It even smelt like Queensland, and the waterhole that rippled gently every now and then—rippled suspiciously toward the cluster of trees and overhang of rock instead of away from it—could have been any waterhole out west: brown, muddy, and ringed with mud from the gradually dropping water level.

  So, what? When the trials started up, they hadn’t just brought heirlings in with them, they’d patched in random monsters to do a bit of killing or be killed? That was all well and good, but why bring traditional Aussie nightmares in to round out the lot?

  Something rustled in the reedy part of the billabong just beyond the overhang of rock and further into the cluster of trees, and my head snapped around. It was Kevin, and he was still in his wolf form. This time he had his left flank toward me, and that was how I could finally tell for sure that it was Kevin; Kyle had more of a golden touch to his coat, while Kevin was distinctly red over his left flank.

  Even better, he was on all four paws instead of in a pile on the ground, which must mean he was feeling a bit stronger.

  “Nice work, Kevin!” I called, in a congratulatory sort of voice, and his head whipped around as if to say, Now you remember my name! “Must have been a bit hard not to pass out with those claws in you!”

  He made a half-dodge, as if trying to bring himself to dart toward me and safety, but stopped low on his haunches, ears pricked and eyes cautious.

  Heck. It really was playing with him.

  “Oi, Kevin,” I said, stepping forward lightly and quickly. “It’s the tail, right? That’s the bit you gotta watch out for?”

  He whined once, and shook his muzzle, blood went flying from a red-stained patch near his chest. Right. So I’d been right. That would be why he was limping now too, no doubt. It must have had a go at him since it’d got him back to its lair: looked like I’d been right about bunyips liking to play with their food. I couldn’t see the bunyip itself, but judging from where Kevin was, midway between the thicker trees and the outcropping of rock that was still suspicious, he had been put down in exactly the right place for proximity and fun.

  Head low, Kevin turned his muzzle this way and that, watchful for the next attack. I moved closer with more speed than caution, and saw the briefest movement below the rock outcrop where rock met water.

  Heck. Here came the claws and those flamin’ weird arms again.

  I broke into a trot as claws and arms parted the reeds by the water’s edge, with barely a flicker through the trees to show that something else sinister was moving in the greenery. I didn’t slow down, hoping to convince the bunyip that I had been completely fooled by the claws, heading full pelt up and over the rock ridge to leap down on the other side. Kevin startled and snarled as I landed beside him, crouching low, but I didn’t have time to reassure him; a thin, whippy tail came snaking out from the trees, lightening fast and bright-tipped. I was nearly too slow even though I was waiting for it, and my hurried defence slapped the flat of my swords against it rather than slashing through it as I’d hoped to do.

  But that moment was enough for Kevin to lunge forward, snarling; another moment and he had it in his teeth, snarling and shaking it as though he was trying to break its nonexistent neck. I took off across the clearing, leaping claws and muddy-green bunyip arm, felt the hot breath and saw the teeth of the bunyip as I leaped for the reeds that were its whiskers.

  The bunyip tried to curve in on itself and protect its tail, but it had been too sneaky, curling its tail through the other end of its cave to attack us, and there was too much solid rock between it and its tail. I met that forward lunge and rotting-sheep breath with two swords thrusting up and forward, right through the roof of its roaring mouth, and took a glancing cut from its rancid teeth that worried me by being instantly hot.

  The bunyip died in a last rictus of assault, nearly sweeping my legs out from beneath me with its jerking arms, and I had to climb over them to get back to Kevin, who was still shaking the tail with all the savagery of a puppy with a leaf and about the same stability on his feet.

  “It’s dead,” I told him. “And I know you’re tired, but it doesn’t have a neck in its tail; it’s not like you’re gunna do much good by doing that.”

  He just growled at me and gnawed on the tail for a few moments longer before he let it drop, looking faintly ashamed. I didn’t know if that was because he had let his wolf nature get the better of him or because he realised he’d been fighting a dead beast for the last thirty seconds.

  “Just figured you’d want to save your energy to get home,” I said. “It’s a little way back, and if anyone figures out we’re in the hedges, things are gunna get nasty pretty quick. I saw a bloke get—well, I reckon he got the worst of it from a pair of fae, and fae are pretty good at seeing through stuff, so the sooner we get home, the better. You want to try and change back to heal a bit?”

  Kevin didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop, either; he took off down the way we’d come and I saw his nose flaring as he passed me.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, leaving my swords to grow up near the billabong as bullrushes and jogging after him. “But if you outrun me you’re gunna have trouble finding your way back to the—”

  He might as well have snorted at me, for all the notice he took of me. That wasn’t surprising, since it was obvious he already had the right scent in his nose, following it without a pause right back to the point where I’d stepped into this particular patch of stretchy hedge.

  He didn’t know how to get right back into the proper hedge, though. After a few abortive starts he stopped and sat, whining as if he were a dog, until I caught up.

  “Nope,” I said, grinning. “Having the scent isn’t gunna help you here: reckon we’ve gotta close this up behind us as we go back inside the hedge. And there’s no way I’m going back through all that black stuff later on, so we’re gunna have to find a way to get back out into the labyrinth before we get home, too.”

  He growled a bit, but since he couldn’t get back to the scent that was annoying him without my help, I was pretty sure he’d listen to me when the time came for us to leave the hedge.

  Still, if he needed me, it turned out it was much quicker going back the way I’d come with a lycanthrope nose to tell me when to stop, too. On the other hand, this time things were a lot more nerve-wracking. I don’t know if most of the heirlings, like us, had been hiding
out in their respective houses until now and had just come out to fight in the last half a day, but we saw at least five different groups of heirlings, and a few single travellers, too—each of them passing by us almost silently but still far too close for comfort.

  “Heck,” I said anxiously to Kevin after the fourth group. “Wonder how many heirlings Zero has had to get through to get to Sarah? If there are this many close to our place, I wonder how many are further in?”

  Kevin didn’t reply or show any signs of turning human, but I was pretty sure his trot sped up a bit. He obviously wasn’t feeling too comfortable about being out here, either. Fortunately, we hadn’t so far seen anything like what I’d witnessed on my way to find Kevin, though I’d caught sight of a huge, prone body as we passed down the inside of the hedge on our way back.

  The twin heirlings were still patrolling the area, too; I knew they couldn’t actually see or hear us, but they were sharp and watchful anyway, and when they sank quickly back out of sight into a stony, decorative alcove in the hedge opposite, I already knew what was about to happen.

  Kevin stopped, growling, his hackles up. Into the lane beside us trotted a slender little wolf, his nose to the ground and his ears pricked. I saw the male fae grin; saw the glitter of Between-laced magic that was hiding their scent.

  “That’s not on,” I muttered. “He’s just a kid!”

  The two fae exchanged a look, and the female rolled her eyes. She might as well have echoed Just a kid! but her emotion was more contempt than pity, and the closer the little wolf grew, the more contemptuous that expression became.

  The two fae pounced on the wolf as one before I was ready for it, and Kevin snarled and leapt for the closest twin. This time I didn’t try to stop my instinct; I shoved myself into the hedge, trusting that it would work just like it had worked to get out to the bunyip’s lair.

  That was when I discovered I couldn’t get through hedges when there was no glittering of Between to indicate a way through. Branches tore and stabbed at me, forcing me backward, and Kevin, who had been right beside me, fell back onto the ground in a tumble of limbs and tail, scattering blood.