The Borderlands (Book One): Journey

by Aderyn Wood

  What happened after that? He’d probably been knocked off the boat, forced to swim. He wouldn’t have known where to swim. He would have been panicked and scared. Dale guessed he would have drowned through sheer exhaustion.

  Her throat tightened and she banished the thought and returned to her task of collecting wood. She had to cling on to the possibility that Cat was on the island somewhere.

  By the time she finished her search in the forest she had a mound of firewood as tall as she was. She made a fire pit, boarded with rocks, and by the early afternoon it was ablaze.

  She put a pot on to boil and looked to her provisions. Everything Ness packed for her had been from her garden. Dried tomatoes, mushrooms, carrots, marinated eggplant, as well as fresh vegetables, filled two cotton bags; along with pickled olives and hard cheese wrapped in cloth. There was also a packet of flatbread that Ness had made. Dale took some of the flat bread and made a roll with tomato and cheese. The taste made her mouth tingle, but her hunger meant she didn’t pause to relish it. Eventually the kettle boiled and she poured a cup of tea.

  As she sipped she looked above the flames to the ocean beyond. The waters shimmered in the afternoon sun. Dale’s eyelids drooped. She lay down on the mossy grass; she’d make a proper bed later.

  Dale dreamed again. But this time she knew she was dreaming. She sat in Joy, sailing in a calm sea. But Cat was missing. A large bird flew overhead and Dale ducked as its shadow swept the boat. She looked up to see whether it was hawk, owl or gull, but the sun blazed in her eyes and she blinked. This is a dream.

  Then the scene changed and the sea became the golden colour of her nightmares; the calm surface became angry. The large mountainous waves began their formation. No, no, no. Wake up!

  Then she was back with Ness at her cottage. The old sorceress brushed her hair with a small brush. She brushed her forehead too and it felt nice, calming. Then Ness started to purr.

  Dale opened her yes, but the brushing continued. And the purring remained. She blinked. Cat? Blinking again she realised where she was, and that the brush of her dream was not Ness at all, but the bristly tongue of Cat who now groomed her forehead.

  She sat up and there was Cat sitting beside her. He mewed and purred even louder. She scooped him up and squeezed him and he pawed at her shoulder.

  “Oh, Cat, you’re alive!” Tears squeezed out of her eyes but she smiled and laughed as she jumped to her feet. She patted his back as she hugged him. “You’re alive!”

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” She plopped him down on the ground. He didn’t look hungry or thirsty. Just the same old Cat, healthy and robust.

  She rummaged in her provisions and poured him some water and food. But he ignored it and tried to jump into her lap instead.

  “Well, you’ve obviously found something to eat and drink.” Dale looked to her water supply. It was getting low. Cat must have found a stream or pond. She would have to explore.

  She patted her friend and whispered little nothings as she inspected his body for any injury. Cat purred loudly and pawed at her legs. He squinted up at her. She squinted back, and laughed when he did the same.

  Cat’s return energised Dale. That night she had a roaring fire and made an effort with her meal. Onions fried in the dented pan and the aroma of wood smoke and cooking reminded her of Old Joan. Poor Joan, she would be lonely without Gareth. They had enjoyed each other’s companionship. I hope she’s alright. But Joan was a survivor.

  Dale added other ingredients to the pot – mushrooms, tomatoes, garlic, herbs, beans and lentils. It smelled delicious.

  As she ate she looked over her maps. She had no way of knowing how far she’d sailed from Ness’s place. But she had to make a guess. She drew a circle with her sketching pencil that identified the area. Her best guess. It wasn’t far from Ness’s circle that showed the Borderlands; perhaps just a day’s sail. Maybe I haven’t failed after all.

  She spooned another mouthful of stew and looked out to Joy. It was twilight and the boat gleamed on the shore, a rosy colour. “I can fix you, old girl.”

  Then she turned to Cat. He had just finished off his own meal and was sitting beside her, blinking into the fire, purring still. He looked at Dale when she spoke.

  “Tomorrow we’ll find some fresh water, Cat. Then we’ll start work on Joy, okay?”

  Cat blinked.

  Dale slept soundly that night. She woke twice, and both times felt Cat snuggled closely by her side.

  17

  Dale woke before dawn. She built up her fire and by the time the sunlight gleamed on the water she had a hot cup of tea in hand. For breakfast she nibbled on a piece of flat bread spread with a delicious dollop of Ness’s jam. Joy sat on the shore, awaiting inspection.

  “I think I’ll work on Joy first,” Dale said aloud. “We can look for fresh water later.”

  Cat looked up from his water bowl as if acknowledging her decision.

  After breakfast Dale walked down to the boat. She looked at the hull closely and realised there were two holes. The large one she’d seen when she first found Joy, but the second hole was smaller, about the size of her thumb. What else had she missed? She circled the boat, one step at a time and inspected it closely. When she came to the stern she sucked in her breath. There was no rudder. Sharp shards of wood pierced the air where it had snapped clean off.

  She took a breath and stood, her hands on her hips. “Shit.” This was bad. Very bad. A boat without a rudder was useless. She fingered the wooden shards then scratched her head. How am I supposed to get a new rudder here?

  With great effort she managed to lift the boat and peer underneath. One side, then the other. A few serious scratches lined the new paintwork.

  Last, she unrolled the sails. The jib remained intact, but the mainsail was torn. She’d have to patch it.

  She looked at the boat, scratching her head, her assessment over. Two holes in the hull, scratches on the underside, a torn sail and a missing rudder. It would all take time to fix. Especially the rudder. She had no clue how she would solve that problem.

  Dale brought the repair kit down to the beach. She took out the tools she thought she needed, a small saw and a rasp. With the saw she cut off the long, needle like shards of wood that stuck out at various angles. The boat must have landed on a rock with force to cause such an effect.

  She took the rasp next, and began to file back the finer splinters. The wood needed to be rough so that the glue would adhere. She remembered doing this with Gareth years ago. Joy had three holes in the hull when Gareth had found her. They’d done a quick fix-it job just like the one she did now.

  When she finished filing the two holes she examined her work, running her thumb around each hole. The wood was rough, but clean. The glue should stick.

  ‘Good job, lass.’ She imagined Gareth’s encouragement and smiled.

  Emptying the repair kit, Dale laid out all the options before her. There were many tubes of epoxy and hardeners. She knew they had to be mixed for a specific time. Gareth used to swear under his breath when he mixed them. It was a tricky process and didn’t work as often as it did. Why didn’t he just use his sorcery?

  It was weird to think of Gareth as a sorcerer. He had simply been Old Man Gareth to Dale – an eccentric homeless man. She’d never seen him use his powers, ever. Not until that night when he died. Unless she hadn’t realised it.

  She sighed and picked up a tube of epoxy and a tube of hardener. May as well have a go at it.

  She found a flat shell on the beach and poured out a tablespoon of each tube. She mixed them together with a stick, trying to recall how long Gareth had mixed them. It had seemed like a long time, but she was still a girl then, and such things always feel long to children.

  After a while the glue began to stick and she decided to try to fill the smaller hole. But the epoxy wouldn’t stay in shape. It dripped and fell away, refusing to cling to the wooden edge.

  “Damn it.”

  She scraped the spent ep
oxy away and returned it to the shell.

  Well, when at first you don’t succeed …

  She chose another two tubes and went through the same process. This time she mixed for a little longer. But when she applied it, the same thing happened. It simply wouldn’t stick.

  She threw the stick down in frustration and exhaled sharply.

  There were five tubes left, two hardeners and three epoxies. She couldn’t afford to experiment too much.

  Hunger pains bolted across her abdomen. It was time to take a break.

  After lunch Dale decided to give up on boat maintenance for the day. Tomorrow might bring better luck. She whistled for Cat and he came bounding.

  “Let’s go find some water.”

  Stepping into the forest brought goose bumps to her flesh. It was cooler, darker. A different world completely.

  The smell of pine needles filled the air, and she breathed it in. On the forest floor were many little paths, and lots of droppings. Rabbits, she thought. Maybe I should make some traps like Bear Grylls.

  She walked on and descended into a little valley lined with hard rock. She heard the stream before she saw it. The bubbling and gurgling of water as it fell over rock. She continued the descent and in less than a minute a stream came into view. Pools of clean water eddied amongst the grey rock. Waterfalls in various sizes fell from pool to pool. She cupped her hand under one and drank. It bubbled, cool and clean.

  She stepped over the stream at a narrow point and climbed until she walked onto a kind of natural platform that looked out on to the small valley. The sun shone through the tall pines and gorse. Their stature reminded her of the high arches of a church. She turned and looked around, then stopped and gasped. A cave opened before her.

  The entrance stood a foot taller than her, and it was as wide as a car. As she entered, it revealed itself to be much bigger inside – about the size of her room at home. It had good light too. She walked around the perimeter and found it completely enclosed, no secret passage ways. The mood for exploration buzzed and she examined the cave more closely.

  Alcoves, like shelves lined the cave walls. One whole bench about the height of her hips and another, even longer, roughly knee height, lined the back of the cave. This had to be the work of a human. Someone had spent a lot of time and effort making this cave very comfortable. Dale thought the wider bench was a bed, while the other would have been a shelf for provisions. The smaller ones maybe held candles. On impulse she opened her second site and lights of faded blue intertwined with the filtered sunlight. She wasn’t sure what it meant but guessed they were the traces of a past inhabitant. I wonder who?

  The cave made her remember the little sprite. She’d lead Dale to the cave along the shore, to hide her from the hawk. The sprite had not appeared since. Maybe she was a dream after all.

  Cat sniffed the floor and bobbed his head.

  “What do you think, Cat? Should we make this our new home? Fixing Joy will take longer than I thought.”

  Maybe I should set those rabbit traps. Gareth had showed her how to skin them. Joan was always cooking rabbit stews; they were delicious too.

  Dale spent the rest of the day setting up her new camp. She made a fire pit and collected more wood. She carried all her possessions to the cave. The high bench made a perfect spot for her foodstuff, while the smaller alcoves housed her clothes. She only had three sets of clothes – a pair of jeans, tracksuit pants, shorts, and three tops. A coat and a spray jacket were for sailing. She folded them up separately. As she did so she found the crystal that Brutus had given her. The light from the entrance of the cave caught it and it gleamed. Its reflections glittered and danced on the cave walls like a disco ball. She smiled, and put it on the lower bench.

  Then she went to the forest and collected armfuls of pine needles which she brought back to the cave and placed on the lower bench. When the pile of needles was wide enough, she wrapped a canvas around it and lay down to try it out. It was comfortable, almost like a real bed. Cat jumped up and began pawing the new mattress.

  “No time for napping, Cat. There’s still work to do.” But he ignored that and settled down to sleep.

  By the time she had the cave sorted, the day had darkened. In less than an hour she would have difficulty making out the bed from the bench. Dale placed kindling onto the fireplace, which she had positioned close to the entrance. She grabbed her lighter and within moments flames of yellow and red danced, and the interior of the cave was lit splendidly.

  It looked like a little home. Herbs and vegetables from Ness’s garden sat on the bench. I could use their seed and grow a garden. I could live here forever and no one would bother me again. It seemed a romantic thought. One that was possible, especially when she saw Cat stretch out when he saw her.

  I will set those traps.

  She cut off some of her precious rope and set up six rabbit traps just the way Bear Grylls did it on the TV show she liked to watch. By the time she’d finished, night had arrived and she carefully picked her way back up to the cave.

  After eating she sipped a warm cup of tea and fed the fire. Cat lay on the bed. He seemed to like their new home. She walked over and patted him and he stretched sleepily.

  Dale climbed in beside him. She looked around the cavern. The firelight glowed and the smell of the pine mattress comforted. Yes, I could live here.

  18

  Dale slept more soundly than she had since leaving Glasgow. Stretching, she relished the comfort of the pine mattress. She opened her eyes and her vision focused on the crystal necklace that sat beside the bed. It was so layered. Like all crystals it seemed to have a never-ending story to tell. She reached out and felt its warmth.

  She swung out of bed and realised that Cat was gone. Back to old habits then. He’d been sticking around lately; perhaps still wary about the time he went missing.

  After a quick breakfast – more flatbread and jam – she headed off to the boat. Cat came out of hiding to follow along behind her. When she walked up the other side of the valley she got a fright. She’d forgotten about the rabbit traps and there before her were three dead rabbits. They lay as though sleeping, with the little noose of the traps around their necks. She crouched beside one and patted the rabbit’s fur, it was soft. She had a moment of guilt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Cat sniffed at one, ears forward, then sat and pawed it. “Leave it, Cat.”

  She picked up the rabbits and took them back toward the cave, but rather than going up she walked downstream and dumped them in a little bank. She bit her lip. She’d never actually skinned a rabbit before. Gareth and Joan had, many times, and she knew what to do. It had to be done. She had no idea how long she would be stuck on the island. What if she ran out of food? The rabbit meat would sustain her. And if it got cold she’d need warmer clothing. She should keep the skins too.

  She sprinted up to the cave to retrieve a knife – a fishing knife of Gareth’s. Maybe I should do some fishing too.

  Back at the stream she examined the rabbits. Their little faces stared at her. She couldn’t help feeling guilty. She’d gone fishing before but she’d never killed any other animal.

  She bent down and began her work, cutting the skin around each hind leg and pulling until the pelt unravelled all the way off. Then she gutted the rabbits by making a clean incision and emptying the abdomens of the digestive systems and other organs. Her hands were covered in the warm blood and guts of the rabbits. She held them up to look more closely at the scarlet substance. Her heart pounded within her chest. A peculiar sense of power came over her, and her senses heightened. She heard a branch fall somewhere off in the forest and looked to the sound. The colours of the forest were a vivid green. The scent of the earth rose to her nostrils and mixed with the freshness of the stream water, and something else – the deep copper scent of fresh blood. She shook her head. “I must be hungry,” she said aloud, and indeed a hunger burned within her.

  She washed her hands and the skins in the cold running stream wa
ter and the temporary fire of her senses cooled. She took the rabbit meat up to the cave and hung them out on a line of rope tied between two sapling trees.

  A sense of accomplishment washed over her. She would have rabbit stew tonight, just the way Joan made it.

  Back at the boat, Dale inspected the empty tubes of epoxy and hardener. Why hadn’t they set? She picked up the remaining tubes. They looked newer than the ones she’d used already. Perhaps the others were out of date. She searched each tube for a date but all the writing was blurred. Dale suspected epoxy should be stored properly, maybe that was the problem.

  She had to try one more time. She had no choice, but the remaining tubes did look newer, and that gave her some hope.

  She lifted Joy back on to her side and put the stick there to prop it. She found a new shell and began the mixing. The substance looked a little different. The colour was lighter. I hope this works.

  She took a large dollop with the end of the stick and began filling the smaller hole. She took another dollop and filled above the last. The resin stuck to the wood. Dale’s heart quickened. I think it’s working. Another two dollops had the hole filled completely. The resinous substance stuck and remained still.

  “Yes.” Dale skipped a little. “It worked!”

  She studied the second hole. It was more than twice the size. It looked like there was enough to cover it. Should she risk it? She had to do it quickly or the resin would set on the shell. She bit her lip and took a sharp breath. “Well, here goes.”

  She patched the second hole in the same manner, once again the resin stuck and Dale smiled as she worked. With the last dollop of glue she filled the rest of the hole, then stood back to examine her work. Both holes were now filled and overbrimming with the epoxy – like globs of amber. She walked around to the other side to inspect the underside of the hull. The resin poked out slightly, but the hole had been completely filled. Dale sighed in relief. She’d solved the problem. She would sand back the overfill once the epoxy was dry. Joy would float again.