Motherstone

by Maurice Gee

  ‘Soona says we’ve got to keep him.’ The red one. The fierce one. He hoped that Susan would have answers. He went outside and spent the rest of the afternoon digging spears from the deck-house with his knife. He gave them to Silverwing and Yellowclaw to make into arrows.

  The Seafolk kept the barge moving till nightfall. They beached it on an island and swam off to a reef to sleep till dawn. But their leader, a big old seal with grey fur and a voice like a saw, stayed with the band. His name, he said, was Watcher of Furthermost. He had watched all his life, hoping that in his time none would need to go there. But word had come that Humankind had made the Weapon, so he and his tribe had stolen a barge from a river town and waited at the appointed place for the legendary ‘One who knows’. Susan Ferris came. It seemed that she was woven into the history of O.

  ‘We carried her to Furthermost on the barge. Then she told us to return for you.’

  ‘And Thief was with her?’ Nick said.

  ‘Oh yes. Thief.’

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘A creature we had thought none could befriend. But while he stays with her she need not fear. Unless these painted warriors track her down.’

  Yellowclaw spoke from the far side of the fire. ‘How can we reach this Furthermost tomorrow? The circle of islands is too wide.’

  ‘Ah,’ Watcher said, ‘Freeman Wells chose the name to deceive. He wished to hide his island. But you are friends, so I will tell you. Furthermost is not furthermost from shore. The islands are a circle, as you say, and Futhermost is furthest from the rim.’

  ‘In the centre?’

  ‘That is it.’

  ‘Clever sods,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘Just so,’ said the seal. ‘But I must go and eat some weed. These sounds of yours are spike-fish in my throat.’ He heaved himself down the beach and swam away.

  ‘I’ll say this for Susie, she gets around,’ Jimmy said.

  Nick thought of her woven into O. Even though he would see her tomorrow she seemed far away, and strange to him, like a figure in a tapestry, from another time. He looked at the Varg ambling on the beach, with their fur shining silver-blue in the moonlight, and the Birdfolk in the shadows beyond the fire, great coloured eagles with faces half-human and half-bird, and he shivered and thought, What am I doing here? Soona played her flute. He wished she would play a tune he recognized.

  Later Dawn went to the barge to look at the Hotlander. She left Bess guarding the deck-house door. Ben would take his turn later on.

  ‘How is he?’ Soona said.

  ‘Waking, but I made him sleep again. His wounds will heal.’

  ‘What are we going to call him?’ Jimmy said.

  ‘He has a name. He told me in his fever. He is Aenlocht of the Clohna tribe. He comes from the iron desert beyond a mountain that pours hot blood from the heart of O.’

  ‘Lava,’ Nick said.

  ‘With Bess to help I looked into his mind, I questioned him. Osro’s army is ready to march. He has warriors as numerous as the grains of sand. He has the fire weapon that eats up men and trees and stone. Aenlocht calls him Lord of Fire. He will take his army south, into the lands of darkness, but in his holy fire darkness will flee. The Hotlanders will enslave all living things – humans and Woodlanders, Birdfolk, and Seafolk and Varg. Enslave or kill. Osro will rule, and the tribes will be his spear and shield.’

  ‘Does he know the Freemen are making the Weapon too?’

  ‘He said nothing about that. He came south with a scouting party. They saw us and attacked.’

  ‘Did you ask about Soona?’

  ‘I tried. But I found only darkness and disorder. And dreadful fear. He knows who Soona is and does not know. He must kill her, that is all. She is enemy.’

  ‘We gunner have ter keep an eye on him,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘He will sleep the rest of the night. Tomorrow his fever will be gone. But his wounds will not heal for many days. And what is in his mind may never heal.’

  They lay down to sleep. Once Nick woke and saw the Varg change guard. Jimmy snored, and Soona, mysterious, slept with moonlight on her face, and sighed and seemed to fight some battle with herself. Down by the water frogs were croaking.

  In the morning the Seafolk launched the barge with only Dawn and Jimmy and the Hotlander on board. To make it lighter, Nick and Soona walked with the Varg. The island was a large one, growing trees similar to silver birch and pine. Green and pink lichens crusted the rocks. Little bushes growing at knee-height were laden with blue berries sweet as jam. Nick and Soona picked some for Dawn and Jimmy. And once they found a Shy, growing by itself in a little hollow. The even-shaped bush and the pale blue flower were disappointing. But Nick remembered how Shy had saved him from Steen, and he brought a handful of water from a spring and poured it on the roots before going on. They waited on a rock at the tip of the island and jumped on the barge as it went by.

  The islands were smaller after that and they had no chance to walk again. The Birdfolk had flown ahead to find Susan. Jimmy loafed on the deck-house roof. Aenlocht was still sleeping, held in the web of Dawn’s medicine. Soona looked in at the door now and then, and came away with her eyes grown darker. The Varg swam, or loped over islands, keeping up easily with the barge. They reminded Nick of puppies playing games.

  At midday Silverwing and Yellowclaw flew over the barge.

  ‘Susan is waiting. We are going to see how close the armies have come to each other. Our thanks to you, Seafolk. Fare you well.’ They flew on and soon went out of sight.

  The islands were gathered close about and the barge seemed landlocked. But always channels opened, ways cut through. Nick began to watch ahead for Susan. All the islands were low and smooth – glaciated, Nick told himself – and grew only single trees or single copses, berry bushes, tufts of grass. It seemed an unlikely place for Freeman Wells to have made his home. Watcher of Furthermost raised his head. ‘There,’ he croaked.

  The island was no different from the rest. Rocks pink and grey, berry patch, a stand of silver trees. Beside them, smooth-topped bed-rock rose in a hump.

  Suddenly, he saw Susan. She came from the trees and walked to the water. She was wearing her Earth T shirt and shorts. He waved and yelled her name. She waved back. And then a Bloodcat ran from the hump of stone and charged towards her. It came like a red flash down the island, cleared the berry patch in a leap. Nick was yelling, the hairs on his head were standing up. Jimmy came lurching into the bow with his axe. But Soona said, ‘It’s all right. It must be Thief.’

  The Bloodcat stopped at Susan’s side. She dropped her hand on its neck easily. She raised her other hand and waved again.

  ‘Nick. Jimmy. Soona,’ she cried.

  Chapter Eight

  The Speaking Stone

  He could not get used to the creature prowling round them as they ate. It went in a half circle, and turned and went back the other way, glaring at them, never blinking. The Varg watched it closely – one always watched. They understood, Dawn said, how shallow its control of itself was. The savagery underneath could break through at one wrong movement or wrong word. Only Susan was not afraid.

  ‘He’s not going to hurt you. He’s not used to people, that’s all.’ She told them how Thief had saved her from Slarda. ‘He knows you’re my friends. I’ve told him about you. He won’t come close but he won’t attack. Just don’t try to touch him, that’s all.’

  ‘He reminds me of Aenlocht.’

  They told her about the Hotlander boy. A strange smile came on her face. ‘It all fits in.’

  ‘Fits in with what?’

  ‘There’s an old story, Nick, about three people.’

  ‘And a song,’ Soona said.

  ‘Lots of songs. Freeman Wells told me the words.’

  ‘Told?’

  ‘He left his voice for me in the house.’

  ‘What house?’

  ‘I guess we’re still a bit mixed up, young Susie,’ Jimmie said.

  ‘I’ll show you soon. But
the story says One who knows – that’s me – ’

  ‘Knows what?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’ll find out. And One who carries beauty. The Pale One –’

  ‘That’s Soona.’

  ‘Soona and her flute. Did you bring it, Soona?’

  ‘Yes,’ whispered the girl.

  ‘And One who carries fire in his mind. He’s the Red One. That must be the Hotlander boy.’

  ‘He’s got a streak of lightning on his chest.’

  ‘Yer could boil spuds on what ‘e keeps in here.’ Jimmy tapped his forehead.

  ‘So it fits. I knew someone like him would come. I didn’t know who. I thought for a while Thief might be the Red One. But it had to be someone human of course.’

  ‘I don’t understand all this,’ Nick said. ‘Can’t we just go home?’

  ‘No,’ Susan said. ‘No, we can’t.’

  ‘Tough luck, son,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘Well, what do these stories mean? And what do we do?’

  ‘What do I do. And Soona. And the Hotlander boy.’

  ‘You’re not going anywhere without me.’

  Thief hissed and stepped towards him.

  ‘Don’t talk so loudly, Nick,’ Susan said. She took his hand. ‘You’re coming, wherever we go. Jimmy too, and Dawn. We’ll go together. But in the end it’s me and Soona and Aenlocht.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ve got to meet Aenlocht first. Is he on the boat?’

  ‘He’s awake,’ Dawn said. ‘His mind is clear. But his wounds will be several days healing.’

  ‘Can he walk? I want to take him into the house.’

  ‘Nick and Jimmy must carry him.’

  Susan nodded. ‘Soona, you and I will make him ready.’

  ‘He wants to kill Soona.’

  ‘We’ll take Thief. They’re enemies and they’ve got to get used to each other.’

  She stood up and walked to one side and Thief slunk forward and stood with her. ‘Now, Soona.’

  The fishergirl went towards them. Thief growled and the hair stood up along his back.

  ‘Don’t be frightened. Keep on the other side of me.’

  ‘Susan, can I play a tune for him?’

  ‘Yes, play.’

  Soona lifted her flute. She moved carefully round to face Thief, and played a tune that spoke of ease, of comfort, calm of mind, acceptance of all things – that at least was how it seemed to Nick. At the end his hand was resting on Ben’s neck. It did not work quite so well for Thief, but at last his rumbling stopped and the hairs on his back lay flat. Soona kept on a little while, and in the end he yawned and looked indifferently at her. He rubbed himself against Susan’s leg.

  Soona stopped. She slipped her flute into her sleeve. ‘There,’ she said, ‘better than I thought. Distant friends.’

  They went down to the beach and approached the barge. The old seal, Watcher of Furthermost, was by the stern. ‘Susan, we will rest on the neighbouring island. Call when you need us again.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Susan said. ‘We’ll have to hear what Freeman Wells says first. Rest well, Watcher.’

  She and Soona climbed on to the barge, and Thief came up with an easy leap. They stood on the deck and looked at the cabin. Thief took a step towards it. A soft anticipatory wicked hiss came from his mouth. But Susan said, ‘Thief, no! Listen to me, Thief.’

  She ‘spoke’ to him, and she had learned a kind of shorthand now. An image of her hand on his head meant stay, an image of her standing with someone else meant do not attack. She could not be sure he would always obey, but in some way he wished to please her; he allowed her things, but took no orders. If his instinct to attack overrode their friendship then she would have no influence with him.

  She tried to show herself and the Hotlander boy. She had not seen him and it was hard. But she found the image in her mind reinforced – colour and precision added to it, features she could not know about; and she sent a startled glance at Soona. The fishergirl was ‘speaking’ too. Somehow their minds had joined, had woven round each other like two vines. In her wonder at the strangeness, she almost lost Thief. The Bloodcat took two steps to the deck-house door, and paused, and crouched. From inside came a cry of rage and fear. Aenlocht thought they had sent the cat to kill him. But they made their image again – combining with an ease neither stopped to question – and made the animal stay, they held him by the force of their need. Without this boy O would be destroyed. Then Susan went forward and looked in the door.

  Aenlocht had thrown his blanket off. That was all he had strength for. He bared his teeth and snarled like the cat. He would fight with fingernails and teeth – for the moment it would take Thief to kill him. But in savagery he was the Bloodcat’s equal.

  ‘Thief, Thief,’ she said; and held the cat. She stepped into the doorway and turned her back on Aenlocht. She felt Soona’s mind increasing her own, and again presented Aenlocht as friend – while behind her the boy hissed and spat.

  Thief tried to force her out of the way. He did it with care. She sensed that, behind her, Aenlocht was looking on with disbelief. No one treated Bloodcats in this way. She held the door-jamb with two hands, resisting his pressure. He could so easily knock her aside. ‘No, Thief.’ Then to Soona, ‘Play your flute. Show him O.’

  At once the music came. Soona understood. Streams running on pebbles, pools deep and green, ferny grottoes, bracken slopes warm in the afternoon sun; giant trees, deserts red and hot, caves and mountains, green swelling seas bursting on reefs – and the vast sweep of yellow plains, and blue jungle, blue hills, with curtains of shifting rain: all was there, the music held it all. And Susan understood that for the first time in his life Thief the Bloodcat saw O in colour. He trembled, seemed to lose the use of his legs, and sank on his belly. He gave little growls and mews of wonder; and in the cabin the Hotlander boy made the same sounds. The music had entered him.

  Then suddenly, like a crushing of the mind, colour went out. The music changed – and Soona’s face, as she played, was white with the horror of what she was doing. O became a grey world, dead and dry. The hills were piles of ash, the jungles dead, and deserts grey, and streams gone dry. The seas lay still and seemed to rot. Susan wailed with grief, and the Bloodcat howled, and Aenlocht howled; and tears ran on Soona’s cheeks. She did not stop. She played until the horror of it put out all their sounds – and then, only then, let a little thread of colour in. It trickled in the grey deserts like water, it curled through the dead soil like a root. They held their breath: this was life. Then Soona let a river flow, she let a green tree heave up its head in the wind. It swayed and sang. And Susan found her mind in the music too, helping to make it. And the three, Susan, Soona, Aenlocht, with Thief at their side, stood under the tree and held up their hands, and with the flat of their palms pushed death back, turned back the grey, and made colour stand in O again. The fight was hard. Pain was in all of them at the hardness of it. Death and evil beat on them, grey winds, and tried to rip the courage from their minds. But they stood, they held it off with the flat pressure of their hands. And so it went on – and would go on … but Soona stopped. She came to an end, and with a little sob lowered her flute, and stood swaying on the deck of the barge. Susan stumbled to her, held her in her arms.

  ‘Who played, Soona? Who?’

  ‘I don’t know. I began it. Then something came in and took it away. It played with me – it made the colour, and the grey, and showed us all together. You and me, and him – and Thief too.’

  Susan looked at the door. The Hotlander boy had crawled from his bed and lay against the jamb, supporting himself. Thief was by his side. Neither seemed aware of the other.

  Soona said, ‘Whatever we must do, it is dreadful harm. A necessary harm. And greater good.’

  ‘Yes,’ Susan said. ‘Now we’d better listen to Freeman Wells.’

  The others, Jimmy and Nick and Dawn and the Varg, were standing by the prow of the barge. They too had heard the m
usic. They helped the girls down, and Jimmy and Nick climbed into the barge and made a sling of blankets and carried Aenlocht to the side and lowered him on to the beach. Thief had gone to Susan. He stood between her and Soona, and both of them had a hand on his neck. There were no more questions about friendship. Not with the Bloodcat or the boy. The music had shown them how it was.

  Nick, on the outside, could not argue. He knew his use was to give what help was asked; and so he made the sling again and carried Aenlocht up the island. Jimmy was, for Jimmy, very quiet. The Varg walked with a ponderous gait. Dawn kept by Aenlocht’s side, watching his wounds, frightened they might open. At the mound of glaciated stone Nick and Jimmy put him down.

  Susan said, ‘This is Freeman Wells’ house. Watcher showed me how to open the door.’ She put her palm on the rock as if to feel its warmth, and murmured something, and a slab swung away on hinges, revealing a square room. ‘Open Sesame,’ Nick said, and Susan grinned at him. She stepped inside and touched another wall, murmured again. A second door opened. ‘Come in. There’s room for everyone.’

  They stepped into the ante-room and the door closed behind them. Susan and Thief and Soona went ahead, down wide stone stairs into a larger room. It was lit by lamps glowing on the walls. The air was sweet and cool. Jimmy and Nick laid Aenlocht on a couch against a wall. His eyes darted about – for an outdoor being, a nomad, this descent into stone must be terrifying. Yet he made no sound. Dawn tried to touch the wound on his shoulder but he put up his hand and kept her away. He watched while Susan closed the inner door. They were all inside, Ben and Bess too, yet the room was not crowded. Doors opened off into sleeping chambers and workrooms and a kitchen; and, Nick supposed, some sort of bathroom and lavatory. The couches against the walls had woven covers. The chairs and the long oval table in the centre were stone – but stone made light, carved and turned like wood. Everything was simple and comfortable, and Susan seemed very much at home here.

  Jimmy looked around. ‘Some place. It’d take some makin’.’