Nightpeople

by Anthony Eaton

  ‘Here, girl. Come and eat and let me take a look at you.’

  Hurriedly, she thrust the stone back into her clothing.

  On a strip of bark was a pile of meat, some hard desert nuts and a number of green bulbs, which Saria didn’t recognise.

  ‘Eat.’

  The smell of the food reawakened her appetite and while she choked down as much as she could get into her mouth, Gan carefully checked her over, swearing when she noticed Saria’s fingertips, still ripped from tearing at the walls of her cell and now seeping blood and fluid.

  ‘That bloody Dreamer Baanti,' She dug into another bag and pulled out a thick brown paste, wrapped tightly in large leaves. ‘This’ll hurt, right? But it’ll do you good.’ A handful of the paste was smeared onto Saria’s damaged fingers and a sharp stinging sensation rippled up her arms. A moment or two later, it was replaced by a strange coolness, and the pain vanished.

  ‘What is it?’

  Gan smiled, a mirthless grin.

  ‘Somethin’ from Dreamer Gaardi. He thought you might need it.’

  ‘Dreamer Gaardi?’ Saria grabbed the woman’s arm. ‘Have you seen him?’

  ‘Steady, girl. Nah, I haven’t seen him. Got it from Dariand while he was tryin’ to find you back in Olympic.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘Who? Dariand or Dreamer Gaardi?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Not far off, I imagine. Once Dariand found you, Dreamer Gaardi headed for Woormra to talk to Dreamer Wanji and clear the way there while we got you out. Dariand’ll wrap things up in Olympic and then meet us here.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘Dunno. We’ll see, eh? You should sleep now and we’ll see what Dariand wants to do when he arrives.’

  ‘What if they find us, though? Won’t they be looking?’

  ‘Hah!’ Gan spat into a clump of nearby scrub. ‘That Olympic mob couldn’t track an injured roo under the dayvault. All they got is Baanti, and he’s a poor excuse for a Dreamer.’

  She rose and tethered the camels in a shaded clump of scrub by the water, then came back, lay down in the shade, closed her eyes, and started to snore. Saria was only a couple of minutes behind her.

  She woke in the late afternoon and there was still no sign of Dariand. Gan was fast asleep and the camels were grazing where they’d been tethered. Down at the water, Saria splashed her face and studied her reflection in the greenish surface. Bags hung below her eyes and her hair was matted and tangled. The face looking back at her from the water was that of a stranger.

  A rustle in the bushes off to one side caught her attention and Saria turned. A large red and brown snake emerged from the undergrowth to drink. Scaled patterns shimmered the length of its body, and it flicked its tongue, tasting the air for danger. Saria knew it was aware of her and she slowly twisted her body towards it, carefully posing no threat. Sure enough, the diamond head remained low, no strike tension coiled into the snake’s body. Instead, it continued to regard her with dark eyes.

  Earthwarmth tingled into her, the old familiar feeling of power flowing up from the ground, but this time it seemed easier to get to. Saria probed gently outwards and, without any need to seek, slipped easily into the senses of the snake.

  The first impression was so familiar, so much like her childhood of reaching animals in the valley, that she almost giggled with delight. The waterhole was a deep pool of coolness, the snake’s sensitive nerves, its belly pressed against the ground, revealing every tiny tremble and shimmer of life around them.

  And the hidden gorge was filled with it: insects, coldbloods and rock-hoppers, all at various levels of activity. Gan slumbered below her tree, a still, warm brightness in the snake’s mind. The camels grazed indolently on a patch of scrub just beyond their camp. It was more life than Saria had felt anywhere since leaving the valley, and with a sigh of contentment she let herself slip deeper and deeper into the snake’s consciousness, swimming in its sensory awareness just as she’d soaked herself in the pool earlier that morning.

  Unexpectedly, the snake’s focus shifted abruptly. Something new was coming up the valley towards them, creeping from bush to bush, hesitant. To the snake, the creature reeked of danger and it immediately coiled tightly in on itself, preparing to flee.

  Gently, not wanting to alarm her host, Saria probed out towards the approaching creature. Her first thought was that it might be Dariand arriving, but somehow it seemed too small, and moved in such a strange way that she didn’t think it could be.

  The snake was agitated now, wanting to flee but held by the force of Saria’s will. Finally she pulled herself back and without hesitation the snake slid smoothly into a protective gap between two stones. As their link dissolved completely, Saria caught one final impression of the approaching creature – one of exhaustion and vague familiarity.

  Then the snake was gone, and Saria stood, brushing sand from the front of her robe. Whatever it was that had grabbed the snake’s attention, she could detect no sign of it with her own limited senses. She took a couple of steps towards the path along which they had travelled up the gorge.

  ‘You up, are you?’ Gan’s voice from behind stopped her. Saria wondered how long the old woman had been awake and watching. ‘How about you get some wood together, an’ we’ll make up a bit of food, eh?’

  ‘Is it safe to have a fire?’

  ‘I reckon so. This spot’s out of the way, unless you know where to look. Besides, I feel like a decent feed.’

  She rummaged in one of the bags and pulled out a sharpened spike of bone. It had a series of holes along its length and small barbs carved into the end of it. Saria, forgetting for the moment the approaching creature, watched the old woman.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  Next, the old woman plunged into the scrub, scrabbling around until she found a long, reasonably straight stick, then used thin straps of leather threaded through the holes in the spike to bind it to the stick, creating a vicious-looking spear.

  ‘Now, this way.’

  Gan made her way to the edge of the pool, tucked up her long robe and tied it around her waist, then, to Saria’s surprise, waded in up to her thighs.

  ‘Stay on the bank there. Sit real still and don’t make a sound.’

  For the longest time the old woman stood, rock still, the spear raised above her head and angled down. Saria watched, curious. Back in the valley Ma had sometimes used a spear to hunt rock-hoppers and lizards, but never anything in water.

  Suddenly Gan whipped her arm forward, and when she snapped the spear up something silver glinted and wriggled on the end of it.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You ent ever seen a fish before?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good eatin’. Not too many places in the Darklands you can get ‘em, though. ‘It’s another reason Dariand and me like to keep this spot to ourselves.’

  She waded back to the bank and pulled the fish off the spear, carefully easing the barbed end out so as not to damage the flesh. It was the strangest animal Saria had ever seen. Twice the length of her hand, it flopped around on the muddy ground, its mouth opening and closing desperately.

  ‘Good.’ The woman grunted in satisfaction and handed the spear to Saria. ‘Now, your turn.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Or you can go hungry, eh? Your choice. The secret is to be real still and patient; let them come to you.’

  In the creek, Saria tried to copy the old woman’s stance, raising the spear and pointing the white bone tip towards the water.

  ‘Don’t hold it so high, girl. You’ll end up movin’ your arm. Hold it closer to the end, too.’

  Saria did as she was told, and concentrated on staying still. It wasn’t easy. Her arm began to ache and her legs itched to move, to relieve the burning sensation building in her calves.

  ‘Jus’ concentrate on breathin’ slowly, right?’

  A shadowy movement near her ankles grabbed her attenti
on, and Saria plunged the spear down as hard as she could, but it twisted in her grip and slapped harmlessly on the surface of the water. The fish whipped away into the depths of the pond.

  ‘Careful. Can’t rush it, eh?’

  Rearranging herself, Saria raised the spear again and continued to wait. Five more times she lunged at brown shapes that flickered past her legs, each time missing. On the fifth occasion, and much to the amusement of the old woman, she lost her balance and toppled into the water.

  ‘That’ll do. Come out before you scare the rest of them off.’

  ‘No!’ Standing again, Saria waded across to where the spear was floating and retrieved it. ‘One more try.’

  This time, when the fish slid out of the darkness, Saria took a deep breath and fought back the urge to fling the spear immediately. Instead, she breathed slowly and evenly and waited.

  With her feet buried in the muddy bottom of the lake, she probed for earthwarmth, but before there was enough energy for her to reach out towards the fish’s mind, she realised that it was right there in front of her, where the spear tip would be if she thrust it. So she did, and the movement seemed almost gentle, slow and lazy, and then the spear was kicking in her hands and she was pulling the shimmering creature up from the water.

  ‘Good. Lucky, but good:’

  ‘Lucky?’

  ‘Took me two whole days of trying before I managed that.’

  At the water’s edge, Gan used a stone knife to scrape the slime and muck from the fishes’ sides, then to open them up, pulling their intestines out and throwing them back into the water.

  ‘Alright. Let’s eat.’

  The fish was bland, with a muddy flavour, but roasted over the fire it was the sweetest thing Saria had ever eaten.

  ‘One time you could get these everywhere. Every creek, every lake filled with them. Not now, though.’

  Saria tried to imagine the empty desert filled with water and fish, but the idea was too strange.

  ‘What was it like?’

  Gan snorted.

  ‘Don’t ask me, girl. I wasn’t about. This was long before the Shiftin’, before the burnin’. Before the Nightpeople, right? Back before the Darkedge. That far back.’

  ‘I don’t know much about that stuff.’

  ‘Eh? Why not?’

  Saria shrugged.

  ‘Didn’t Ma Lee teach you the stories?’ Gan glowered across the fire, the light making her expression even more fierce.

  ‘You know Ma Lee?’

  ‘Hmph.’ Saria took the reply as a ‘yes’.

  ‘She never taught me anything, just what jobs I had to do.’

  ‘That’d be right. Bloody miserable old bitch.’

  Saria smiled at hearing Ma described that way. Then she remembered that final night in the hut and the strange, wistful delicacy of the old woman’s touch on her head.

  ‘She wasn’t so bad.’

  Gan’s expression softened slightly.

  ‘Ay. I’m sure. But there’s no substitute for your own mother.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  ‘’Course you wouldn’t. Never had a chance, did you? I remember the night you were born. Bloody Nightpeople took your mum off quick smart.’

  Saria paused mid-mouthful.

  ‘You were there?’

  ‘Bit younger than I am now, but, yeah, I was there.’

  ‘So you knew my mother?’

  Gan hesitated a moment.

  ‘I did. Your mother was Jani, the bravest girl I ever met. And that night she got taken over the Darkedge. ‘Ent nobody seen or heard of her since, but that’s not surprisin’, eh? Nightpeople don’t give away their secrets. Not for free, anyhow.’

  Jani. Saria stared into the flames of the fire and said the name again. Jani. Just the sound of the word tasted good on her tongue.

  ‘What was she like?’

  ‘As I remember, she was a tiny little thing. But strong, eh? Could walk for days and hunt with the best of them. ‘Course, hunting was easier back then, but still, your mum had a feel for it like none of us ever did. It was like she just knew animals. She’d find ‘em when nobody else could. Only one near as good as her was Dariand.’

  The old woman took a mouthful of fish and chewed thoughtfully.

  ‘You look a bit like her, you know. Same eyes. And that tangle of hair you got – that’s from her, too. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I reckon you and your mum got a lot in common. For a long time, Dreamer Wanji thought she was gonna be the last one, too.’

  ‘The last one?’

  ‘The last baby. Hadn’t been one for ages before Jani. Not a clean one, anyhow.’

  ‘How come the Nightpeople didn’t take her when she was born?’

  Gan shrugged. ‘Same reason they didn’t get you. Wanji got her hid away quick.’

  The fish had gone cold but Saria took another mouthful and chewed it anyway, enjoying the soft texture, so unlike the roots and nuts she’d been brought up on.

  ‘Did you have any babies?’

  Gan looked away, a slight droop in her shoulders.

  ‘That’s not a question you ask a Darklands woman, girl.’

  ‘Oh.’ Saria hesitated, acutely aware of the sadness that had swept over the old woman.

  ‘S’okay. You weren’t to know. Don’t imagine Ma Lee taught you that, either.’

  ‘No, she didn’t,’ Saria admitted.

  For a while the only sound was the gentle wheeze of the camels and the crackle of the fire. Then, abruptly, Gan spoke.

  ‘One.’

  ‘One what?’ Saria’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  ‘I had one baby,’ Gan said. ‘A long time ago. Named him Dreni.’

  ‘Did …’ Saria began, but stopped. She was walking in territory she didn’t understand here, and suddenly realised that she had no idea what she could or couldn’t ask.

  ‘It’s alright. Ask. I’ve told you now.’

  ‘Did the Nightpeople take him?’

  ‘Nah. They came, but they didn’t want him.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Wasn’t clean. From the moment he came out, it was obvious to everyone that he wasn’t gonna see the night out. He was all blue and had only one eye. Wasn’t breathin’ properly, either. Poor little bugger never had a chance. Died before seeing his first daylight.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ It was all she could think of to say.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Gan shook her head, sweeping old memories back to where they belonged. ‘Serves me right for dragging up the past. Some things are better left forgotten.’

  ‘I asked you.’

  ‘You did. An’ it’s a valuable lesson for you to learn. Don’t go asking about things which aren’t your concern. Especially about things that happened a long time ago, right?’

  Saria nodded, although she wasn’t sure she agreed. If she couldn’t ask about the past, how was she supposed to learn anything about herself? She stayed quiet, though, and as if reading her mind, Gan anwered her.

  ‘Don’t worry. When you get to Woormra, Dreamer Wanji’ll tell you all the history you need. That’s what Dreamers are for, eh? For rememberin’ everything the rest of us try so hard to forget.’

  Then Gan settled herself more comfortably, went back to picking the flesh from her fish, and the only sound was the spitting crackle of the fire.

  Saria woke to voices. Gan and Dariand sat a little way off, talking. He must have come into the camp sometime during the night. She hadn’t heard a thing.

  ‘At least we got her back. That’s something.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound too good, though.’

  ‘Nah,’ Dariand replied. ‘It’s not good at all. At best Dreamer Wanji’ll get half the council with him. The rest all reckon they’ve had enough. And now Dreamer Baanti and Slander will be putting in their bit, and you know that Olympic mob …’

  Yawning, Saria sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. As soon as they noticed that she was awake, Dariand walked over and cro
uched in front of her.

  ‘You alright?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Good.’ He slapped her, hard. ‘That’s for running off.’

  Instantly awake, Saria gaped at him, too shocked to cry or even make a sound. The impression of his fingers burned on her cheek and his eyes blazed with anger.

  ‘Don’t you ever think you can wander away like that, not out here. You were lucky this time.’

  ‘It’s not my fault!’

  ‘Yes, it is. You chose this. You chose to walk off into the desert, you chose to get captured. You’re just lucky that Gan moves with Baanti’s hunters, and Dreamer Gaardi and I can track better than most, otherwise you’d probably be dead now.’

  ‘They weren’t going to kill me.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No.’ Saria faced up to Dariand as best she could. ‘Some of them wanted to give me to the Nightpeople, but Dreamer Baanti wouldn’t let them.’

  ‘Wouldn’t he?’ Dariand’s expression gave away nothing. ‘I should have left you with him, then.’

  ‘I would have been okay.’

  ‘Right. In that case, shall I take you back to Olympic? You sure looked okay when I pulled you out of that hole. You looked like you were doing really well.’

  Saria stared at him. She couldn’t believe he was angry with her. Not after everything that had happened to her.

  ‘I was trying to help you,’ she snapped. ‘I saw smoke and I thought I’d …’

  ‘You didn’t think at all. You wandered off into’ the plains in the middle of the day, on your own, after Dreamer Gaardi and I had both warned you how dangerous it was.’

  ‘It didn’t look far.’

  ‘It never does. And did you even bother to stop and think about what you were going to do if you actually got near their camp?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have …’ She caught herself just in time. Dariand still didn’t know about her reaching.

  ‘You wouldn’t have what?’

  ‘Wouldn’t have got caught,’ she finished lamely.

  ‘No? Then how did you end up in that hole at Olympic?’

  Saria couldn’t find a reply, so she stamped down to the water to sluice her face and hands.