Lightning Tracks

by A. A. Kinsela

  She stirred, and Nick darted out of sight, his heart racing. He climbed to the top of the nearest rise and peered back down the hill, but no one followed him. Up here, the birds were even louder. The cacophony was the same as home, and for a moment he was back there, legs dangling off the side of the veranda and sipping Mía’s fresh coffee.

  He drew an unsteady breath. How could a place be so different yet so familiar? He could see mountains in the distance. If he was in Australia, they’d be the Great Dividing Range. Here, though, he didn’t know their name. He made a mental note to check Felix’s map. Beyond the indigo peaks, the sky glowed pink with the sunrise. Nick supposed he wouldn’t see white streaks from passing aeroplanes anytime soon.

  Cal approached, nimble and silent. He was slim and unassuming, and didn’t look much like a soldier. Even so, there was a subtle danger to him that prickled Nick’s deeper instincts. Nick had been in plenty of fights before. The aim was to cause as much agony as possible without inflicting any permanent damage. Yesterday was different, though. Cal hadn’t bothered with painful kicks and punches. He’d gone straight for Nick’s throat.

  ‘You’re up early,’ Cal said.

  ‘The birds woke me.’

  Cal nodded and rested a hand on the hilt of his hunting knife. He didn’t seem to notice when Nick edged away.

  ‘That storm will be on top of us this afternoon,’ Cal said, pointing to the clouds that gathered on the southern horizon. ‘It’ll slow us down. We won’t reach the city until sunset.’

  ‘You mean Auremos?’

  Cal’s burnt gold stare hardened with suspicion. ‘Yes. Auremos.’

  Nick flicked his dreadlocks out of his eyes and tried to sound casual as he said, ‘That’s a long ride.’

  ‘Not used to it?’

  ‘No.’

  Cal folded his arms across his chest and said, ‘I wonder what a merchant was doing out here.’

  ‘Felix? He said business was good.’

  ‘It’s the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘Why are you here then?’

  Cal huffed. ‘I wouldn’t be if I had a choice. In the last three days we’ve seen nothing but kangaroos, snakes, birds, goannas, and a bee keeper. At least a merchant would’ve livened things up a bit.’

  ‘Felix would’ve preferred to run into you.’

  ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘He tried to hurt someone I know. And he insulted me. So I broke his nose.’

  One of Cal’s eyebrows arched. ‘You weren’t travelling alone then?’

  Nick swallowed. He was beginning to suspect that nothing got past Cal.

  ‘She was, um, someone I was staying with, not travelling with.’ Nick cleared his throat. ‘I’m going to, ah...get a drink.’

  As he scrambled off the rocks, he felt Cal’s clear, amber gaze on his back.

  Throughout the day, Cal rode beside Nick. He didn’t say much, but every now and then Nick felt the heat of his unsettling stare. Artemis stayed at the front of the group, pushing on ahead then doubling back to let Pan and Miles know the state of the track. Almost always, her report was ‘no change’. The most eventful thing that happened was a small detour around a brown snake sunning itself on a rock.

  More than once Nick had to shake himself awake. He did not want to fall out of the saddle again, especially in front of the scouts. To occupy himself, he studied their weapons. They had a lethal mix of bows and arrows, curved swords, long hunting knives and short daggers. The hilts were plain leather or wood, and the arrow fletchings were brown or black. Except for Artemis’s, which were tipped with white, the bunched feathers rising above her bare, sun-browned shoulder like a clipped wing.

  ‘Hey, Nick! Catch!’

  Nick snatched a leather pouch out of the air as it was thrown towards him.

  Miles grinned. ‘Thought you might be thirsty.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Nick took a swig then offered it to Cal, who accepted with a nod.

  ‘You never told us what you’re doing this far west,’ Miles said.

  ‘I’m travelling,’ Nick replied.

  ‘I can see that. Are you visiting one of the villages out this way?’

  ‘Why would you think I’m visiting?’

  Miles snorted. ‘I’m not blind. There’s some Korelian blood in you. Besides, people out this way don’t have your accent. How long have you been away from home?’

  ‘A while.’

  When Cal tilted the leather pouch to get the dregs, Miles grabbed it from him. ‘Don’t be greedy, peaker.’

  Miles peered into the nozzle while Cal brushed spilt water off his shirt.

  ‘Are you trying to drink us dry? I can’t believe Valerius made us take you on this scouting mission. You’re useless.’

  Cal looked as though he wanted to ram echidna spines into Miles’s eye sockets.

  ‘I had a fair bit too,’ Nick said. ‘It wasn’t just him. Besides, it’ll rain soon. You can collect more water then.’

  Miles chuckled. ‘Don’t waste your breath on this one. He’s not worth the clothes he wears.’ With that, he wheeled his horse around and cantered towards Artemis.

  Nick expected Cal to urge his horse forward, leap at Miles, and pound him into the dirt. He didn’t. He just rolled his shoulders back and drew a deep breath with a measure of self-control that astounded Nick.

  ‘Cal, if I was you right now, Miles would already be spitting teeth.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be a fair match. I’m useless, remember?’

  ‘He must be pretty damn good to be better than you.’

  ‘He thinks he is. That’s all that matters.’

  Nick frowned. ‘Doesn’t he know what you can do?’

  Cal’s voice dropped to a low murmur. ‘No, and he doesn’t know about your Arai brand, either.’

  Nick rubbed his shirt where his tattoo was hidden and muttered, ‘Fair enough.’

  By mid-afternoon, a breeze had picked up, bringing with it the electrifying smell of rain. When the storm hit, Nick’s wet clothes weighed him down, and soon his horse was panting from the effort it took to push through the mud. Pan led them to a shallow rock shelter where they dismounted and shook the water from their hair. Artemis passed around some dry bread and cheese. When she got to Nick, she studied him with an intelligence that he reckoned could strip a person of all their defences in two seconds flat.

  ‘Thanks,’ he murmured.

  She looked about to say something when Miles flicked her sleeve.

  ‘We’ve got company,’ he said.

  Artemis followed his gaze and tensed. Nick saw what they’d spotted through the heavy rain. Three horses.

  ‘Who are they?’ Pan asked, squinting.

  ‘Maybe Bandála,’ Miles answered. ‘I can’t quite tell.’

  One rider dismounted and approached. His upturned collar obscured most of his face, but Nick still recognised David’s scruffy curls and charcoal eyes.

  ‘Shit,’ Nick muttered.

  Cal looked at him in alarm and drew his sword.

  ‘You’ve entered Bandála territory,’ Pan called. ‘State your name and purpose.’

  When David didn’t answer, she said something in a different language, but still he didn’t respond. It was as if he was testing them. Pan swung her bow off her shoulder, notched an arrow, and aimed for his chest. Artemis and Miles followed her lead.

  ‘Whoa! Don’t shoot!’ Nick cried. ‘I know him.’

  ‘Is he nallindéra?’ Pan demanded.

  ‘Uh...’ Nick had no idea what the word meant. He glanced at the white five-pointer star stitched into her sleeve and hoped David was wearing his copper necklace. ‘He’s Bandála.’

  The other two horses approached through the downpour, and Xanthe and Jinx slid to the ground.

  ‘Easy, scouts,’ Xanthe said. She was smiling, as if enjoying a private joke.

  David revealed his face and everyone relaxed, sheathing their swords and slinging bows back over their shoulders. Then they snapped to attent
ion and saluted, right fists pressed against their hearts. David and Xanthe mirrored the gesture as they stepped out of the rain. Jinx shook her head like a dog, spraying Miles with water.

  ‘Apologies for our reception, Rayámina,’ Pan said. ‘And you too, Xanthe. I couldn’t see you through the rain.’

  ‘We would have expected nothing less,’ David replied. ‘It’s always best to be careful.’

  Nick frowned. Since when had David answered to the name Rayámina? And why did the scouts salute him?

  Cal and Artemis took several rigid backward steps till they were at Nick’s side, pale and silent. Nick considered asking them for an explanation, but he suspected that now might not be the best time.

  ‘Do you need an escort to Auremos, sir?’ Pan asked.

  David nodded. ‘I want to be inside the gates by this evening.’

  As the scouts started packing away their gear, David eyeballed Nick, his expression fierce, and beckoned. Nick sidled towards him, stopping several feet away. David closed the gap with two angry strides, and Nick had to force himself not to flinch.

  ‘Have you told them anything about yourself?’ David muttered.

  ‘Er...only my first name.’

  ‘Good. Keep it at that. It’s safer.’

  ‘Why did they call you Rayámina?’

  David glanced at the scouts, who one by one were mounting their horses. ‘Because it’s my name, and it’s important they don’t learn anything else about you. Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘Why? What’s with all the secrecy?’

  ‘Stop asking questions!’ David hissed. ‘I’ll tell you more when we get to Auremos. In the meantime, shut up and try to blend in.’

  With a scowl, Nick climbed onto his horse and rode out into the rain. David and Xanthe led the way, so Nick made sure he was last in line. Jinx rode with Pan, both of them chatting non-stop in the language Nick didn’t understand. Miles and Artemis kept disappearing then reappearing to report on the track conditions. Nick tried a few times to strike up a conversation with Cal but all he received were short, guarded responses. He gave up after a while and sat back to watch the sodden landscape pass by.

  As the hills folded closer together, the bush became cooler, thicker, quieter. The smoky grey eucalypts dripped with rain and red-silted runoff trickled along the path. Except for the knotted dirt track they followed, Nick saw no signs of civilisation.

  When the rain stopped, the track widened, and a deep, narrow groove appeared in the mud. Sometime later, the scouts overtook a pair of work horses dragging a log the size of a telegraph pole. A barefoot man tugged at the bridles and snapped a twitch across their flanks to encourage them forward. Farther along, a woman balanced a basket full of feathery paperbark on her head. In amongst the trees, a boy collected honey from wooden boxes, capering from one to the next and waving a smoking branch.

  Then a mudbrick house with a thatched roof appeared. It blended so well with the bush that Nick almost didn’t notice it at all. A couple of old women wearing vibrant dresses waved to the Bandála scouts and called out. David reigned in his horse, forcing everyone else to stop as well. One of the women hobbled towards him, her tanned skin wobbling on her bony frame. She pressed her hands together as if in prayer and spoke to David in the foreign language, which Nick now supposed was Yándi. His response caused her eyes to widen, and she spun on her heels and gave a shrill whistle. An answering call came from somewhere deeper in the bush.

  ‘Um...what’s going on?’ Nick asked.

  With a quick shrug, Cal said, ‘I don’t speak much Yándi.’

  His abrupt reply made Nick suspect that Cal wasn’t telling the truth.

  More mudbrick houses sprang up among the trees. Cane baskets packed with sourdough loaves were spread along the wall of one building, and fresh animal carcasses were strung up under the eaves of the next. As a man sharpened an axe head on a grinding stone, sparks spat onto the road.

  Nick couldn’t help thinking that this whole way of life was so primitive. There was no electricity, no complicated machinery, not even the normal farm animals he was used to seeing. Dingoes wandered the streets, and wild, ungroomed horses like brumbies trotted between the stringybarks. Even the goats looked tough.

  A little boy with sun-bleached hair and grazed knees scurried to keep up with Pan’s horse. ‘Hey, Bandála. You got a new recruit?’

  Pan glanced at Nick. ‘Maybe. We’ll see how he goes at training. Don’t know how strong his maléya is yet.’

  ‘You need more people? I don’t have maléya yet either, but I can fight.’

  ‘I bet you can, little nallindéra. Perhaps when you’re older.’

  ‘You can count on me!’

  She chuckled.

  They passed more farms with rough wooden fences and stocky mudbrick huts. Evening settled, the clouds parted, and golden sandstone fortifications reared into view.

  ‘Wow,’ Nick breathed.

  Artemis steered her horse next to his. Her sleeves were rolled almost to her shoulders, exposing her toned arms, and he tried not to stare.

  ‘Have you been to Auremos before?’ she asked.

  ‘Ah...no. Not that I remember.’

  ‘Everyone says it was beautiful before the fire.’

  ‘What fire?’

  Her eyes narrowed, and he got the distinct impression he’d just failed a test. ‘The Arai set Auremos alight after the Bandála captured the city. It happened years ago.’ She glanced at David and lowered her voice. ‘Hasn’t Rayámina told you the history?’

  Nick huffed and muttered, ‘There’s a lot Rayámina hasn’t told me.’

  Artemis studied him in a way that made him wonder whether he’d revealed something he should’ve kept hidden. He turned back to the road and shut up.

  The Auremos fortifications were huge—Nick guessed at least ten metres high—and they curved towards the mountains in the east. A buffer zone of cleared land packed with orchards, vegetable fields and irrigation trenches surrounded the walls. Horses dragged ploughs through the dirt and people piled crates of food onto carts. The place was alive with activity.

  On either side of the closest city gates stood watchtowers, with coloured flags flapping from the merlons. Dying daylight fingered a row of portcullis teeth like a predator running its tongue across its fangs. Lining the top of the battlements were dozens of soldiers dressed in grey, with white stars stitched on their sleeves and swords hanging from their belts. Next to the gate was a line of what at first glance appeared to be rotten melons and rags on spikes.

  ‘What are they?’ Nick asked, squinting.

  Artemis glanced to where he pointed, and her face paled. ‘They’re...um...Arai.’

  ‘How can they be...?’ Then he noticed the pecked eye sockets, blood-matted hair, and remnants of black uniforms. They were heads, human heads, displayed on spikes, swarming with flies, and with Arai jackets nailed to crossbeams like a parade of gruesome scarecrows.

  Nick gritted his teeth as bile rose in his throat. He only just managed to hold down the contents of his stomach as he rode through the gate and under the battlements.

  ‘Rayámina approaches!’ someone hollered.

  Every soldier within earshot saluted. David returned the gesture then led the way through a maze of cobblestone roads. Splashes of colour caught Nick’s eye, and he saw clotheslines swinging above weed-choked alleys. The sandstone houses were packed tight together, none of them higher than two storeys, and all seeming to peek over the roof of the ones lower down the hill. Bower vines crept up walls and clogged windows. The streets were bustling, with stalls displaying fresh pastries and barrels of spices. People carried baskets of fruit and bundles of cloth on their heads, weaving through the crowds with the dexterity of tightrope walkers. A clutch of laughing kids raced around the scouts’ horses and kicked a leather ball up the street.

  Everywhere Nick turned he saw brown eyes and dark curls. These people were Yándi. His dad’s people. Never before had he seen so many people who loo
ked like him. His heart sang with a kind of recognition and yearning.

  What had the Arai done to incite such hatred of them? The question hit him like a blast of cold air, and he checked that his shirt was buttoned right to the throat.

  Chapter 15: The Auremos vaults

  ‘Rayámina! Where you been, nallindéra?’

  The shout caused heads to spin and people to spill out of nearby houses. Grinning, David reined in his horse and brushed the outstretched fingers like he was a rock star. With a scowl, Nick rode up the hill and away from the throng of admirers. He glanced back to find Cal close behind.

  ‘I’ll take you to the council chamber,’ Cal said, sounding as irritated as Nick felt.

  They’d been riding for at least half an hour, and Auremos showed no signs of ending. The formidable city walls were already half-hidden behind the sprawling sandstone houses.

  Nick and Cal urged their horses through an archway that was covered in grubby scuff marks, as if every pedestrian who’d ever passed had rubbed shoulders with the stones. Carved into the underside of the roof was a sun with clawed rays, like the giant blade of a circular saw. Someone had painted a five-pointer star over the top of it.

  The arch opened up to a busy plaza with shops that displayed iron pots, bundles of grass, leather boots and sandals, stools, rope, tubs of nuts and seeds, wooden cooking ladles, reed mats, candles, soap, and terracotta jars the size of gallon drums. Nick smelled something rich and spicy, and spotted an old woman spooning thick red liquid into bowls and topping it with pieces of torn flatbread. She swapped the food for copper coins, which she dropped into a bag at her hip.

  ‘Keep up, Nick,’ Cal called.

  ‘Yep. Sorry.’

  Nick urged his horse towards the imposing basalt building on the other side of the plaza then prised himself out of the saddle, shook out his stiff muscles, and trudged up the steps. Cal wrenched open the solid wooden doors and nudged Nick inside. The antechamber was covered in ancient carvings. Wherever a haloed figure appeared the face had been hacked off. Six totem poles of a different style flanked the walls, each with a bowl of coloured spice at their feet. Nick got the distinct impression that two different religions existed here, and that one was trying to eradicate the other.