Ocean of Dust

by Graeme Ing

  At the end of the beach, they scrambled across an outcrop of rock into the next bay, which looked identical to the last, except that there were no signs of habitation. She struggled to keep up with his long strides.

  "Captain, sir," she panted. "What creatures live in the dust ocean? Apart from the Klynaks."

  "How did you learn their name? The men refer to them as monsters of the deep."

  "Oban told me."

  He scowled. "On first names with the navigator, I see. I'm told you spent considerable time with him."

  Her cheeks burned. "I was copying a book for him. I ruined his original."

  "He taught you to navigate?"

  How much should she admit?

  "Sort of, yes. I read a lot too." Was that a dangerous thing to have said? Maybe girls weren't supposed to read or learn. She didn't want to talk about Mampalo, and it wasn't as if Oban could call her a liar.

  "So am I to understand you learned navigation from a book?"

  "Mostly."

  "But not entirely," he said. "How else then?"

  Stooping to inspect a tiny animal skeleton half buried in the sand, she fought with her conscious, compelled to tell him the truth. She looked around the deserted island. How much more trouble could she get into now?

  "It sort of came to me naturally. I don't know how, but I sense the flux. I can't describe it. I can't tell you how. I know I'm just a girl, and I didn't mean to meddle or anything, but I couldn't help it. I-"

  He stopped and faced her. "It's good that you choose to be honest with me. Doing otherwise would not engender me to trust you."

  She blinked several times.

  He removed a folded page from a pocket in his tunic and handed it to her. She recognized it as the one that Sam had delivered on their last day aboard ship. She opened her mouth to speak, but his attention had turned to the rock outcrop ahead of them.

  "Read it," he said.

  Captain P.,

  My detention at the hands of F. frustrates and angers me. You know my loyalties lie only with you. We can trust the messenger bearing this note to respect the privacy of my words.

  Your lives are in grave danger. Flee if you can. I cannot stay the hand of F. for much longer.

  Take that annoying girl with you. I'm forced to admit she has the gift. I don't know how. Watch her carefully, since I'm not sure she understands what is happening to her. She is untrained and chaotic. Tell her she was right and I was mistaken with reference to her note. I'll grudgingly give her that.

  May Totalamon keep you safe. Always your friend and loyal officer,

  O.

  She crumpled to her knees in the sand, mouth agape and hands trembling. After taking a deep breath, she read the note a second time. He must have discovered his calculations were wrong. That had to be it. She let out a whoop, then hastily clapped one hand to her mouth, glancing at the captain. He made a half smile. She'd known she was right the moment they had spotted the island. So the navigator hadn't discarded her note, as she had feared. She was right! He had said she had the gift. She clutched the paper to her chest. Even his grudging praise meant the world.

  "Keep it if you wish," the captain said quietly. He walked on, so she jumped up, brushed her knees and raced after him.

  They had scaled a steeper rocky promontory and descended onto a wide beach littered with smooth pebbles, when he said, "You know, girl... Lydia, isn't it?"

  "Lissa, sir."

  "Farq labeled you a troublemaker. I disagree with his assessment. I want you to know that."

  "Thank you." She felt she ought to say something further, but nothing came to mind. The morning was filled with incredible revelations.

  "I'm told you can remember everything," he said.

  "Not everything," she replied, "but most things, especially numbers, books and maps."

  They picked their way across the stones that clicked and shifted underfoot.

  "Have you memorized all of the navigator’s charts?"

  "All the ones I've seen. I love maps."

  "Enough to help us return to Us-imyan or reach another port?"

  Her shoulders slumped. So that’s what he was after. She couldn't do it. She'd never make it through the endless days of pain and nausea. It was too much. He seemed tense, standing before her, his face somehow sad. He knew what he was asking of her. If she didn't do it, she would fail; fail herself, the captain and the others. She stood straighter.

  "I think I can get us to Patraj. I'm willing to try."

  "That's all I ask. We'll help you." He put his hand lightly on her shoulder. "I trust you, and I know Oban enough to know that he trusts you more than he would admit."

  She looked into his weathered face, now covered with several days of ragged beard growth. His brown eyes held hers. She had never felt so needed in all her life, and it gave her a new strength.

  They trudged wearily back into camp after both suns had set. Her legs and feet ached with the effort of walking what had to have been several leagues through the deep sand. The little water they had carried had run out early in the afternoon, and she could barely swallow. Her exposed skin burned and her clothes had rubbed against it, creating a painful rash and sores.

  She dumped the bundle of fruit she had collected, and then collapsed to the sand with a huge sigh. It felt so good to lie there and gently stretch and relax all her muscles. When Coy handed her the near-empty water bucket, she wanted so guzzle it all, but settled for a few sips, barely moistening her mouth.

  In the cool of the evening, small, hard-shelled scavengers crawled out of the trees to burrow in the sand. As fast as Coy collected them, Jancid pried their shells open and skewered the tiny gobbet of meat inside onto sticks. Before long, dozens of them spat and sizzled on the edge of the fire.

  "I'll cut the fruit," she said, groaning with the strain of sitting up. All she wanted to do was sleep. Using a knife, she pried open large Jherodan nuts to reveal their succulent yellow flesh. She took great care to peel every scrap of green-blotched rind from the Pwam fruit, since the tiniest amount gave you the runs, but the pale, chewy interior was delicious.

  "Sawall and Grad not back yet?" the captain asked.

  Jancid shook his head. "We been 'ere since Eldrar-set. No sign of 'em."

  "I didn't want anyone in the forest after dark. This island is considerably larger than it looks."

  They gathered around the fire for a welcome meal of fruit and cooked shell creatures. Even cooked, the meat was slimy with a gritty crunch in the middle that made her shudder. She handed hers to Coy and made do with the fruit. Jancid wolfed his share, making loud slurping noises.

  Her eyes could remain open no longer, so she lay back in the warm sand and thought of the ship. It would be far away by now. Was Branda all right? Was she lying in her scheepa and thinking of her too?

  A series of growls from the forest startled her. What if something had happened to Grad and Sawall? Hopefully, they had found water and would return triumphant in the morning with a full bucket.

  * * *

  The next morning it was clear from Jancid and the captain’s grim expressions that the missing men had not returned. She stretched the cramps from her legs, and spent ages shaking the sand out from inside her clothes.

  "Maybe they'll return now that it's light," she said.

  "Aye." The captain nodded, absent-mindedly dragging his fingers through the tangles in his dark hair. "They're good men. They wouldn't give up, but we need to keep searching for water. I hope we'll come across the pair of them. No time for breakfast, we've a long day."

  Jancid winked at her. "You did good getting us 'ere, missy. We'll find water, you'll see."

  They decided to head into the forest and remain as a group. She peered into the trees but it didn't look as sinister by daylight. At least its shady interior would be easier than trudging along the beach in the full heat of the day. They took knives, barely a mug of water each, and several empty buckets.

  Immediately, insects swarmed ar
ound them, buzzing, humming, and screeching. The whirling tentacle creatures ignored them and whizzed up into the branches, but soon she spotted a new bug. Resembling a stick, it was the length of her longest finger, with drooping antennae and wide, gossamer wings. It made a loud scree-pop noise each time it dive-bombed them. The men waved their arms frantically, ducking and weaving, and uttering a string of curses. She smiled and chuckled, more so when Coy tried desperately not to flinch, obviously seeking to impress her, but he jumped every few feet.

  "Stand still," she whispered. "They're just curious. Stop cringing like a baby."

  His face turned bright red, but two of the insects flew into her peripheral vision. She cried out, and ducked.

  He laughed. "Now who's the baby?"

  They passed the time having a quiet competition to see who could go the longest without flinching. She was certain she could claim victory.

  Bushes clustered at the base of the trees, but passage was easy. What large creature had made the trail they followed? Their boots crunched on twigs and leaves, and the noise sent birds flapping and squawking into the brightly colored canopy above. Suns-light filtered unevenly through the foliage of green, yellow and purple leaves, creating an irregular pattern of light and dark. Most of the trees shot straight upward, while others bent and twisted around one another. Vines draped across their lower branches or wrapped snake-like around the trunks. Small animals leaped from branch to branch, following them as they penetrated further into the jungle.

  The ground sloped endlessly upward, and after a while, the insects left them alone. The group walked for most of the morning, and then stopped to eat a snack of fruit and berries. Her throat was parched and her lips cracked and swollen. If only there were a cool forest pool to leap into. She'd settle for a muddy puddle. When the men fell silent, she was sure of a bubbling sound not far away.

  "Did you hear that?" she said.

  "I hear lots of things," Jancid moaned. "Insects. Beetles. Stupid apes. Coy's grumbling stomach."

  "It sounded like a stream," she continued.

  "Are you sure?" the captain said.

  "No."

  "Which way?" he said.

  They continued uphill until she was certain the chattering, tinkling sound ahead of them was real and not a lustful hallucination. It sounded like the streams in the hills above her home.

  "There it is again," she said. "It's definitely water."

  "I hear it too," Coy cried.

  "Aye," the captain replied with a smile. "We could be in luck."

  Coy bounded forward and she ran after him, expecting to find Sawall and Grad lying by a stream, bathed and their bellies full of fresh, cool and delicious water.

  "Sawall," she called. "Grad."

  They came around a dense tangle of trunks and vines into the first clearing they had seen in the forest. A thick carpet of green and orange speckled moss covered the ground. It undulated, obviously floating atop the pool that bubbled beneath. The aroma of sweet herbs filled her nostrils. She tensed, ready to leap onto the moss.

  The captain grabbed her shoulders and yanked her back. For a moment, they teetered on the spongy edge, about to fall together on to the moss, until Jancid pulled them to safety.

  "By the Gods, look," he muttered.

  Then she saw what lay in the center of the mossy clearing, and screamed.

  Chapter 26 - Flight

  Flocks of birds crashed upward through the tree canopy. Animals scattered, swinging from branch to branch, hooting and howling, mocking her scream. A deep, menacing roar emanated from the depths of the forest.

  The skeletons of Sawall and Grad lay in the center of the moss bed, their bones picked clean of organs and skin. All that remained were half-digested muscles and tendons glistening with a film of saliva. Their clothes hung loosely around them, undamaged by whatever had eaten the men. It looked as if their flesh had melted away. Lissa recoiled, but incapable of tearing her eyes from the grisly sight. She clung to the captain.

  "What could do such a thing?" she whispered.

  He pointed out orange flowers embedded in the moss, and larger ones on vines hanging from branches above the clearing. The pretty plants had wide, pink tipped petals. How could flowers harm anyone?

  "Carnivorous plants," he said. The moss wobbled when he tapped it with his foot. "There's no water under there. They mimic the sound to lure in prey."

  She glanced up at him. "You're saying the flowers and moss work together? But they’re just dumb plants."

  She glanced at the vines, expecting them to lunge at her at any moment.

  "There are many dangerous things in the world, girl."

  "Did... did they feel anything?" she asked.

  He shrugged.

  Jancid stepped forward, brandishing his knife. "Let's hack down the plants, and take Sawall 'n' Grad back for a decent burial."

  "It's too risky," the captain replied.

  "We can't leave 'em here. Not like that." Jancid scanned the clearing. "I bet I can fashion a lasso and pull 'em out."

  "Be quick. We've got to find water before dark."

  The captain ran his hands through his long, matted hair and swept it from his face. Then he knelt and muttered what sounded to Lissa like a prayer. Farq wouldn't have bothered, she was sure. She nodded to herself, knelt beside him and listened intently to his words.

  Jancid returned and cast a rope made from harmless vines, attempting to snag the skeletons. He tried repeatedly, his jaw set and a determined frown on his face. The noose landed around Grad's neck, and Jancid slowly dragged the body toward him.

  "Stand clear," the captain shouted, and everyone retreated to the edge of the clearing.

  Vines slithered from the trees and snaked eerily down, wrapping themselves around and around the two skeletons. Jancid tugged and the vines pulled against him. Lissa gasped and hid behind a tree.

  "Give up," the captain said. "They'll have to stay here. There's nothing more we can do."

  He led them into the trees. The ground continued to slope upward. Would they ever reach the meadow they had seen from the boat? The light-hearted banter with Coy and the peculiar, curious animals seemed like a world away. The forest appeared to close in around them and she jumped with every movement. All she wanted to do was find water and get back to the safety of the beach.

  The captain raised his hand. "Quiet."

  A rustling sound came from a dense patch of undergrowth, followed by a menacing snarl. Jancid pulled her away, and they all silently and carefully retraced their steps.

  Then Coy sneezed.

  Two large animals exploded from the bushes, their roars deafening.

  "Run," the captain yelled.

  She sprinted into the trees. Over her shoulder, she witnessed a pair of short-furred felines race after the other men. Fangs and saw-edged teeth filled the animals’ mouths. One bite would be fatal. Forgetting the trail, she jumped a fallen tree, darted between two trunks and hurtled headlong through the forest, listening to the sounds of confused shouting and things crashing through the undergrowth.

  One of the felines had her scent. The animal bounded along behind her as she dodged this way and that, trying to evade it. Spindly branches whacked her in the face but she concentrated on the roots and fallen branches at her feet. If she tripped, the creature would pounce and tear her to pieces, yet there was no way she had the strength to outrun it.

  Out of her eye-corner, she spotted a brown conical shape lodged on a fallen stump between a pair of trees. Dozens of bugs with red striped abdomens swarmed above it - War-blits. She couldn’t keep up the pace for much longer, and her lungs felt ready to burst. Her hastily formed plan might be her only chance to escape the feline snapping at her heels. She sucked in air and urged her aching body forward. Up close, the bugs were as large as her thumb, with wicked, black stingers on their rear-ends.

  Now she was caught between a swarm of spiteful bugs and an animal about to bite her in half. It was now or never. Screaming for courag
e, she launched herself at the War-blit mound, praying her timing was right. She clenched every muscle, waiting for the stings to stab all over her body. The furious buzzing engulfed her as she flew through the air and over the mound.

  Her shoulders hit the ground on the other side, and she tumbled over and over, smashing into a tree. Something stabbed her leg. Agony ripped through her body. Then a sharp pain on her right arm. She flailed her limbs in all directions trying to keep the bugs from her face.

  The feline had landed atop the stump and crushed the mound. The air turned black as a cloud of War-blits sprayed from a hole in the stump, buzzing angrily and covering the creature like a cloak. It roared and roared, swiping them from the air with its gigantic paws, sending their crushed bodies splattering against the tree trunks.

  She edged backward on her butt, putting distance between herself and the raging War-blits. With only two stings, she had gotten off lightly, but itching purple lumps were already forming on her skin. She clenched her teeth against the throbbing pain, scrambled to her feet and hurtled back into the trees before the bugs found her again. The feline’s cries grew desperate behind her. She ran long and hard, panting and clutching at the stitch in her side. Eventually, she collapsed onto a log, and sat on her hands to resist the urge to scratch the inflamed, swollen bumps.

  Someone called her name.

  "Over here," she shouted.

  Jancid came out of the trees, red-faced and wheezing, and collapsed beside her. Sweat poured from his face.

  "I thought you were done for," he said between sucking in deep breaths.

  "Me too," she replied.

  "I saw what you did with the War-blit nest. That were quick thinking." He peered longingly into his bucket. "No more water."

  "What're we going to do?"

  She was sick and tired of the island, and the forest in particular. It had appeared so innocent at first, with the whirling insects and cute monkeys. What else was lurking behind the next tree, waiting to try and kill them?