by Al K. Line
"Hey! Be careful. I've told you before, you've got to be gentle. You're quite big you know; normal dogs would fit in your mouth."
Leel wagged happily and lowered her paw a little, looking at Arcene expectantly.
"Fine." Arcene took hold of the paw and shook it fast. "How do you do?"
Woof. WOOF!
"Ssh. Stupid dog, wish I'd never taught you that trick." It was impossible not to smile — Leel really was the best.
Woof?
"Fine. Come on then, we have lunch to find."
Woof.
Leel bounded away, yelping as she got too close to the invisible barrier and got a shock for her trespass.
"Be careful, it's dangerous." Arcene didn't actually think it could do much damage. She'd had much more serious encounters with the effects of electricity and some of them had been quite hair-raising — literally, but it didn't mean she had to tell Leel that.
They walked for a while longer, skirting the perimeter, then moved back into the meadow where meandering swathes of poppies dominated, huge heads of bright red petals, others just dried balls that burst open as they passed. The bees seemed to be mad for the fresh blooms, the buzzing getting into Arcene's head like the time she'd tried using a chainsaw and had accidentally chopped a desk in two in her attempt to do a little bit of creative carving.
The view of the castle was lost to flowers as they moved deeper into the head-high meadow, heading toward the shade of the trees — it was getting seriously hot and even the poppies seemed to be wilting in the heat, drooping and making the bees work that little bit harder.
"Watch it!" Arcene crashed into the back of Leel — it felt like walking into a wall — and steadied herself by grabbing hold of the backpack. "What is it girl? You got a scent?" asked Arcene, a sparkle in her eyes.
Leel was rigid, standing with her nose pushed far forward, nostrils moving like bellows, grunting like a pig. Her body was coiled like a fat spring, thick muscle ready to move fast. Just like the panther.
Arcene turned quickly to her right as she heard the sound, but she was no match for the well-honed reflexes of Leel. Before she even caught sight of it, Leel had pounced high above the flowers, catching something in the air that emerged from the drooping poppy field.
Squawk.
As Leel descended amid scattering petals Arcene heard the gentle crunch of bones breaking. In one fluid motion Leel landed on the ground and dropped the prize at Arcene's feet.
"A pheasant! Good girl Leel, who's a clever doggie then?" Leel wagged manically, tail swishing the plants, knocking over the otherwise robust poppy stems, no match for an excited and happy tail. Arcene picked up the dead bird and scratched behind Leel's ear, then gave her a proper hug around the neck. "Clever girl. Let's go find some wood and make a fire. Then we can eat. Yum, yum."
They moved off through the meadow, heading toward the dense forest, and hopefully lunch.
Patience Grasshopper
"Wait a minute."
Woof.
"I said wait. What's the point of me going to all this trouble if you're going to eat it half-cooked?"
Leel ran around the small fire in circles, barking and wagging with excitement, almost beside herself with anticipation. Arcene wondered why she bothered sometimes, the stupid dog would be happy to eat it raw anyway. Maybe it was so she felt like she had company? She wasn't lonely, but still, it was nice to have somebody to sit with while you ate — civilized.
Arcene turned the bird on the makeshift spit, drooling as fat sizzled on the hot coals. This was the bit she hated about cooking: not only did it always take ages to build a fire, but then the wait for the flames to die down, and the coals to be just right so she didn't just frazzle her food in a second, drove her mad. Then you had to do the actual cooking.
She didn't really mind the prep, never even thought about it — in two minutes the bird was gutted, the head and feet chopped off and then she simply skinned it. No point messing about with plucking a pheasant as it took too long and wasn't worth the trouble.
Almost ready. Come on, come on.
Arcene willed the bird to hurry up and cook as her belly growled louder and louder, almost drowning out Leel's barking as it grew more and more insistent.
"Oi. Don't you dare," warned Arcene, as Leel made a lunge for the wooden spit, very nearly succeeding in grabbing it and making off with the juicy prize. "Why don't you see if you can catch anything else, we have to eat tonight too you know?"
Leel sat and cocked her head, as if to question Arcene's sanity. There was no way she was falling for that trick again — the one other time she had done such a thing she returned to find little more than bones left and Arcene dozing contentedly by the side of the fire. Leel had sulked for the rest of the day, only perking up after Arcene cooked the evening meal and let her have the majority of the food.
Hu hu hu hu. Hu hu hu hu.
"Leel, stop panting like that. It's driving me crazy. Look, I'm hungry too, but I can't eat it unless it's cooked. And anyway, you're a lucky dog, do you know pheasant is supposed to be hung up for at least a week before you eat it? No, of course you don't."
Hu hu hu hu.
Leel didn't take her eyes off the meat even as the breeze fanned the flames and made them jump. Arcene thought that maybe Leel was trying to bring the bird back to life so it would fly into her mouth. The silly dog was panting so hard it was amazing she didn't keel over. A long line of drool hung from her mouth like some kind of weird appendage, all shiny and swaying gently as she moved her position to better will the meal into her mouth.
That's it, I can't stand it any longer.
Arcene picked up her knife and stabbed at the meat; the juices flowed out clear, the flesh giving way nicely to the blade. With expert movements she lifted the stick used as a spit — soaked in water first so it wouldn't catch fire as the meat cooked — and slid the pheasant off with her knife to save burning her hands. She dropped it onto a nice flat rock she'd placed by the side of the fire and deftly cut the whole thing in half.
Now came the really, really hard bit. Steam erupted from the crispy meat, warning it was too hot to eat, and Arcene and Leel both moved forward, bending down low to stare at the teasing flesh, willing it to cool.
They managed about five terrible seconds then Arcene said, "Take," and snatched her share as jaws as deadly as any animal on the planet lunged and grabbed the other half, almost taking Arcene's hand with it. Luckily, she had great reflexes and knew what to expect from her friend. She didn't blame Leel, she was a big dog, and big dogs needed a lot to eat. But then Arcene wasn't exactly bulky, far from it, and she needed a lot of food too, always had.
As Arcene tore at the flesh with her teeth, trying to blow on the meat unsuccessfully while it was in her mouth, making that strange noise only a person with piping hot food on their tongue can make, she wondered if her fascination with food came down to the fact it had once been such a struggle to find.
When she was very young, when her mother first succumbed to The Lethargy and became more distant by the day, Arcene had no choice but to take over all manner of chores, including hunting for food. For weeks her continued existence had been borderline — she simply didn't know how to go about catching animals. The learning curve was steep.
It was the most scared she had ever been — you don't understand how fragile you are until you haven't eaten for a few days and you can feel the lifeforce ebbing away as you get weaker. But she'd made it, she'd learned; survived. Now hunting and cooking were second nature to her. She took another bite, the flesh somewhat cooler, and savored the taste of the meat before she licked her fingers clean of the thick, rich juices.
"Um, a little bit of space if you don't mind. And your breath stinks; you need to chew some bones." Leel blinked then poked out her tongue. So close was she that Arcene could see individual eyelashes on her friend's face, the innocent eyes focused intently on the meat as it moved to Arcene's mouth. "Leel! Move away, there's a good girl. That's very
bad manners you know?"
Woof.
"I know, but I'm hungry too. Later we'll try to hunt for something big, maybe a boar, and then we can eat until we can't eat any more. Okay?"
Woof woof.
"Good. Now, let me finish in peace."
Leel lay down with a whimper and watched as Arcene finished her meal then collected the bones, putting them in the shallow hole she'd dug where she had placed the parts of the bird that weren't needed. She kicked the soil back into the hole and jumped on it a few times — it was a habit that had returned as soon as she found herself back out in the countryside.
Arcene had learned at an early age that it was best not to attract unwanted attention from people or animals, and that meant not leaving signs of food lying about. It wasn't only her that was preoccupied with where the next meal was coming from.
It was a lesson she had been taught only once. When a half-starved badger scares you to death as it tries to steal the scraps from your meal and almost bites your hand off then you don't need a second lesson about keeping your camp as clean as you can — when it comes to waste, you bury it, or you leave, fast.
Since Arcene wasn't in any hurry, she got rid of the traces of their meal and once satisfied there was little to attract a hungry animal, or person, she rummaged in the backpack and pulled out two juicy prizes that survived her gorging when she'd found them the day before, saving just two by carefully placing them in a small wooden box where she also kept the precious lighter.
She licked her lips as she held a large strawberry up high, the ruby-red color as close to perfection as anything in the world. Arcene glanced across at Leel who had dozed off; she quickly bit into the fruit.
Stay asleep, stay asleep.
"Damn! Oh, hello Leel. You move pretty fast, don't you?"
Leel stared eagerly at the fruit so Arcene reluctantly gave the other strawberry to Leel. She swallowed it whole then stared at Arcene's own.
"No way, you just had yours. And you're supposed to savor it. Strawberries are the best." Arcene popped the rest into her mouth and let the juice trickle down her throat. "Yum."
After a drink of water and adding a few small twigs to the fire, more for creating a sense of place than for warmth, Arcene moved away slightly, then lay back against the large belly of Leel, already dozing again, confident there was no food she needed to keep an eye on.
As satisfied as she was going to get for now, Arcene moved onto her side and held on to Leel's huge paw, still amazed at just how big it was, and drifted off to sleep to dream of strawberries, panthers, and wondering what had driven people to paint a castle blue, and when.
Afternoon Hunting
"Eh? What? Ugh." Arcene reached for her sword, only to realize she had been jolted awake by the twitching of Leel's paws. "Stupid dog's probably dreaming she can chase panthers and they'll be scared of her." Arcene lifted her head off the warm belly of Leel and sat up, still groggy.
The sun was high in the sky, meaning it was early afternoon — there was still plenty of the day left. Time for more walking and the chance to just enjoy being free for a while.
She looked around, half expecting to see her son smiling at her — he had the most beautiful smile in the whole world. Being away from him was strange, he'd been a constant in her life now for seven years and there wasn't a day that he wasn't the center of her world. What would he be doing right now? Probably driving Letje mad, getting up to all sorts of mischief, roaming the endless rooms of The Commorancy, pulling knobs, pressing buttons, nagging Marcus to show him more of the never-ending weird stuff that made up his home.
He loved The Room For Clothes, the vast collection of outfits Marcus had collected over the years and obsessively categorized and re-categorized — he really adored the fashions of the ancient civilizations.
Arcene wanted a cuddle, wanted to play with her boy, marvel at how clever he was and how much he'd grown. But she also knew that this was doing her good, asserting her independence, becoming revitalized, proving to herself she was still the same person she had always been, and although she felt guilty for even thinking it, the truth was she was enjoying not having the responsibilities of bringing up a child, just for a while.
Still, a cuddle would be very nice right about now.
Leel stirred in her sleep, whimpering as her legs twitched faster. Arcene hugged the beast's belly, having to make do with Leel rather than her own flesh and blood, then set about breaking camp.
"Come on sleepy head, you can't just doze all day. We've got things to do, places to go, stuff to check out."
Leel opened an eye, hoping for food, and let out a low moan once she realized it wasn't time to eat.
"Come on, we're going."
Moving slow like a tortoise, Leel got up, yawned, and stretched out her lean body. She shook, bits of twigs and dirt flying in all directions. She was an impressive creature, almost like a small horse, but packed with lean muscle beneath her short blue-gray fur. Arcene smiled at her friend. It felt so good to have a dog, she'd always wanted one and now she had the best dog in the whole wide world.
Woof?
"Yes, now. Do you want a drink before we go? Silly question."
Leel padded over to Arcene and slurped greedily as Arcene tried to fill up the bowl with water, but Leel drank faster than she could pour.
"Slow down, slow down. You're so greedy." Arcene tried to push Leel's snout away but she may as well have been pushing against the ground itself. Sometimes she wished her dog was a little bit smaller, but then, that would make her just another normal dog, not special like hers. "Leel, stop! Let me pour it." Leel finally moved back and sat on her haunches while Arcene poured the water. "Should have brought a bigger bowl, didn't think this through." It was fine when they were at a stream, but having to carry water for Leel took up a lot of room and it was the most tedious of all jobs — Leel would drink and drink and drink, seemingly unable to fill her belly with sufficient water. "You're like a fish, like a fish dog. Take, good girl."
Leel slurped away while Arcene doused the fire with a little water then kicked soil on top.
Clang, clang.
"Leel, it's empty. Stop being so noisy. Jeez."
Arcene returned the bowl to the backpack, then struggled to get Leel to stand while she strapped it onto her back, doing up the numerous buckles to ensure it didn't slip off. Last was her sword, adjusted so it was comfortable — they were ready to go.
"Let's get into the shade, it's so hot out here. I feel like I'm melting into a pool of goo."
Leel bounded out of the clearing and back into the trees, Arcene right behind her. The cool of the shady woods was welcome and Arcene felt her spirits lift as they moved in deeper. The castle was some distance away to Arcene's left as they followed the edge of the forest as it skirted around the strange building.
Arcene couldn't help keep glancing over when there was a gap in the trees, wondering what was going on behind the walls and what secrets they were hiding. She shook her head, trying to knock back the insatiable curiosity that had got her into trouble so many times over the years.
Must resist, must resist.
She knew she was kidding herself, knew that there was no way she could give up an opportunity to explore. But how was she going to get inside? There had to be a way.
She almost turned around and headed back the way they had come, back to the drawbridge to see if she could find a way in somehow, but taking stock it made more sense to keep going and see what she uncovered when she was heading back in this direction, back to where Fasolt was supposed to pick her up when she made the call to Letje.
At the thought, Arcene had a sudden panic and whispered for Leel to stop. She fumbled in one of the outer pockets of the backpack and pulled out a large acorn.
"Good, it's still here."
This was no ordinary acorn, this was the equivalent to a flip-talker but without having to stay in range for the signal at The Commorancy to work. Arcene always seemed to lose hers anyway.
No, this was special. Years ago, when they were out on their mission to discover what had happened to the ever-diminishing population, they had gone to The Oak, a tree that stood amid the ruins of endless bridges, ramps and roads that Arcene learned had once been called Spaghetti Junction, a maze of roads on the outskirts of a large city called Birmingham, now little more than jagged shards of skyscrapers ruining the landscape.
The Oak was a tree warped into unnatural growth by a religious sect called The Eventuals, the leader of which Marcus had killed, and when Letje and Arcene had visited the tree Letje had given a little of herself to it, Arcene likewise. The power they had offered passed from The Noise through them into the tree, meaning that now the acorn acted as a personal messaging system, allowing them to stay in contact with each other through The Noise no matter how far apart they were.
Arcene still didn't understand The Noise, not in any depth, but nobody did, not properly. The Noise was the source of so much yet it wasn't an actual thing, it was a place but not a place, kind of the opposite of The Void, except The Void was where everything returned to eventually and where everything came from.
The Noise was what allowed you to talk without speaking, a special kind of energy that gave you the chance to see the truth behind the facade of a world invisible to those not Awoken. Well, Arcene was Awoken, she had mastered her own body, could see the sap rising in the trunks of the trees, stare at the earth and see as clear as day the worms and the beetles and right on down to tiny little specks of life, and she understood how every single tiny thing was connected, that it was all a part of the Whole, understand on an instinctive level that every single thing in the entire world was just as important as every other thing.
Basically it made her head hurt, so she kept to the normal way of living as much as possible. Her mind was not developed enough to take it all in — even with the halting of the aging process Arcene was still adult enough to know that it would never reveal all its secrets to her. Not now, not ever.