Jodenny tried to pull Osherman’s hands away, but he was much stronger than her even when she wasn’t pregnant. “What are you talking about? When did I nearly die?”
“I swear!” Cohen said. “It wasn’t working!”
“Let him go,” Jodenny insisted, pulling again.
Osherman let go so swiftly that Jodenny stumbled backward and fell on her butt in the dusty yard. She was too startled to say or do anything. Osherman swiftly bent over her, contrite.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “You’re insane! When did I nearly die?”
He sat down beside her. Cohen, still gasping for air, remained standing against the cottage.
“Cassandra knew Homer,” he said. His rage had fled, replaced by weariness. “They first met when she was a child, stationed with her parents in the military base under the Jenolan Caves. To transport people—to transport us—he needed the Painted Child. My trip went fine, but you went into shock. He was frantic. I don’t think he expected that to happen. Luckily Tulip and his people were there. They took you to Cassandra’s farmhouse outside Katoomba, where she was able to save you. Then she brought you here. You were unconscious for most of it. But remember when you first woke up? How tired and sick you felt? That was why.”
Jodenny stared at him. “What does Tulip have to do with all this?”
“His people guard the Painted Child,” Osherman said. “For thousands of years. Cassandra’s parents, when they were running experiments, never figured out the pattern of when the time portal would open back here in Australia. Tulip’s people aren’t sure, either. But they always know when someone’s coming through. They say the gods come in their dreams and tell them. Sometime the gods tell them to stay away from the visitors, and sometimes they tell them to help. You were one they were told to help. Me, too, apparently.”
“I hate you,” Jodenny told him, struggling to her feet. She slapped aside his helping hand. “Truly and deeply. Has there ever been a time in our lives when you weren’t lying to me?”
Osherman looked wounded. “Like you told me that you talked to Cassandra? How long have you known about all this and not said a word?”
She turned her back on him. “Mr. Cohen, I would be very much obliged if you took me to the Jenolan Caves now. I want to see this Painted Child for myself. Because if my husband is alive—and he is, I know he is—it’s the only way I’m going to be able to find him.”
Cohen straightened his hat, which had gone askew under Osherman’s throttling.
“We should bring Tulip.” His voice was still shaky, but his resolve was evident. “He’s an excellent guide. His people have been exploring those caves for thousands of years.”
“I’m coming, too,” Osherman said.
Jodenny said, “No, you’re not. This thing only seats three people.”
Osherman held up the engine card.
Tulip didn’t shriek when they took him up into the air over Sydney, but that was because his eyes were squeezed shut.
“You can look,” Jodenny told him. “It’s beautiful.”
He shook his head. “Thanks anyway, missus.”
The colony really was beautiful from high above. Jodenny pressed her forehead against the canopy to look down at the streets and houses. There was the Australian Museum. Beyond it, St. Mary’s Cathedral. Hyde Park and the Royal Botanical Gardens were wide grassy areas, lush and green. Sydney Harbor was a glittering blue that led to the even bigger glittering blue and green of the Pacific Ocean. From up here she could see the city’s shape and energy as it built up and out; spreading down the coastline and inland toward the Blue Mountains, which Osherman said were not mountains after all.
“It’s a plateau eroded by rivers over the millennia,” he said as he flew them westward. “And the haze looks blue because of gum tree oil.”
She would have answered, but didn’t feel like speaking to him any further than absolutely necessary.
Turbulence made the airship lurch. Tulip uttered a quick word or two and then shut up again. His eyes were still closed.
Osherman glanced Jodenny’s way. She ignored him and fixed her gaze on the Blue Mountains, or Blue Plateau, or whatever he wanted to call it. Their journey took no longer than Cohen had promised. City gave way to countryside and river, then to dense wooded forest and jutting towers of rock. It took Osherman some time to orient himself to the landscape, and the onboard nav system, dormant all these years, wasn’t much help with local geography. Finally they set down in a clearing near a stream that pooled under a small waterfall.
“Tulip,” Osherman said, as the canopy lifted above their heads. “What do you think?”
Slowly Tulip opened his eyes. He climbed out of the airship, found his footing, and turned in a wide circle. When he nodded his approval, Osherman let out a sigh.
Jodenny refused Osherman’s help getting out of the airship. She reached out for Tulip’s help instead, and he obliged. The brief flight had left her feeling queasy. Or maybe it was the heavy mourning dress she’d been wearing since Darling’s funeral.
“I’ve had enough of this,” she announced, and ripped the petticoat out from underneath.
She left the undergarment in the airship as Tulip led them toward the waterfall. Along the way he picked up a big stick to use as a walking aide. Osherman did likewise, and scoured the ground for one for Jodenny as well. She accepted it without comment.
“Are you going to give me the silent treatment for the rest of our lives, Lieutenant Commander Scott?” Osherman asked.
“I thought I might, sir.”
He looked and sounded aggrieved. “If I made a mistake trying to protect you, I’m sorry.”
Jodenny let that comment pass without reply.
Tulip ignored their bickering. The forest here was lush but not as cool as Jodenny had hoped; sweat rolled down her back and she wished they’d had the foresight to bring canteens. They hiked along the stream a bit before entering a grotto. High walls of jagged rock opened to the sky. Lush greenery and thick flowers flourished everywhere, fed by a wide high waterfall that sent a fine mist floating through the air. Jodenny decided she could stay in this grotto forever, an oasis in the hostile wild land. Of course, the place was probably crawling with poisonous snakes and spiders, or plants with poison leaves, or some other morbid death risk.
Their time in the grotto was far too short for Jodenny’s liking. Tulip dug under some fronds on the ground and pulled out pitch-covered torches stashed there on an earlier visit. He slung a coil of rope over his shoulder.
“He’s well prepared,” Osherman said.
Jodenny saw a ripple in the pool beyond the rocks. Two small stones were floating their way toward her. She stared, perplexed. How could rocks float on water? They were moving her way quite deliberately and leaving ripples behind them. Greenish rocks, with dark centers—
Not rocks.
Eyes.
A crocodile, swimming steadily toward them.
She let out a yelp and backed into Osherman, who retreated as well. The giant reptile glided ever more steadily toward her, its snout now visible over the water. Tulip, however, was unimpressed. He waved the torch in front of the crocodile, scolded it in his own language, and held his ground.
Jodenny’s heart was beating so fast she thought she might die of a heart attack before the crocodile could chew through their bloody carcasses. In just a few cold seconds she saw how stupid it was to have ever left Sydney, how ridiculously ignorant she’d been of the dangers of the bush. How stupid to risk herself and Junior out here in the wild. It was hubris, hubris and denial, that had brought her out here—and now Junior, Osherman, and Tulip were all going to pay the price.
The crocodile lifted its snout, growled at them, and then veered toward the waterfall.
“You scared it off,” she said to Tulip.
“It’s not here to frighten us,” he said. “It was sent to guide us.”
With that, he followed the rock l
edge under the falling water and disappeared into darkness.
Jodenny took Osherman’s hand, squeezed it hard, and followed.
The darkness was disorienting, made only slightly better by the burning torch in Tulip’s hand. The waterfall pooling outside the cave was channeled by rock into an underground stream. Mammoth limestone stalactites dripped down from the ceiling in pale pinks and gold colors.
Osherman asked, rather nervously, “How far down are we going?”
“Long way,” Tulip said.
“Don’t you remember?” Jodenny asked.
“No. I wasn’t in very good shape when Homer brought me through.”
Jodenny concentrated on not losing her footing on the slippery rocks. The air was humid but not too dank. The floor was wildly uneven with limestone deposits and jagged rocks. She didn’t see how Aboriginals could come down here in their bare feet. She and Osherman needed both hands to get over some of the sharp formations, and though her dress kept twisting around her legs, she was glad for the fabric’s protection.
Junior wasn’t a fan of the climbing and voiced her dis pleasure by kicking, squirming, and punching Jodenny’s insides. It was ridiculously difficult, being pummeled from the inside while she tried to keep her balance on the outside. Tulip led them deeper and deeper, down sloping caves away from the water and light of day. The formations grew larger in size and the passages narrower in width.
“You come down here often?” she asked Tulip.
“Since I was a child.”
Osherman was out of breath. “For fun?”
“To talk to the gods,” Tulip replied.
They were so far underground and so deep into the maze that Jodenny wished she’d left a trail of breadcrumbs to follow back someday. If anything happened to Tulip or Osherman, she would wander around lost down here for the rest of her and Junior’s undoubtedly short lives.
“What gods are down here?” Jodenny asked.
“Rainbow Serpent, he made these caves,” Tulip said. “Long time ago, in the Dreaming. He and the other, they were locked in battle. The serpent came this way, carved his way through the earth, made all this.”
“What other?”
“You’ve seen them,” Tulip said, stopping for a moment.
Jodenny massaged her lower back. “Not down here.”
Torchlight played across Tulip’s face. “The gods are everywhere, missus. You know that.”
Osherman sat down, his shoulders shaking. Jodenny didn’t like the clammy look of his face. “Are you all right?”
“Caves,” he muttered. “Never liked them.”
She empathized. It was easy to imagine getting lost down here. Helplessly disoriented and frustrated by the labyrinth that had been carved by water through here over millions of years. The weight of the plateau pressed down on her, steadily squeezing, though the air still smelled good.
“Let’s go,” Osherman said, and pushed himself up.
They resumed their trek. Jodenny was exhausted clear through. junior had quieted down with just an occasional kick. The floor leveled off for a bit, and then dropped away into a staggeringly fearsome valley of enormous rock growths that looked impossible to traverse.
“You didn’t tell me it would be so hard,” she said to Osherman.
He squinted at her. “Actually, I think I did.”
“That was a joke.”
“Oh,” he replied. “I must have lost my sense of humor.”
The last part was the worst. A sheer drop of more than five meters led down to a valley of stalagmites sticking up like enormous daggers. The short way down was a series of ropes and vines that had looked well-worn with age. The longer way was a tunnel that had been worn away to a steep slide.
Osherman said, “We can still go back.”
Jodenny studied the slide and the ropes. She turned back to the tunnel.
“We’ve come this far,” she said. “We’re going all the way.”
Prior visitors had left some supplies among the rocks, including stubs of yellow candles. Tulip fashioned a loop that went over her shoulders and under her arms. He lit one of the candles from his torch and gave it to her to hold in the palms of her hands. He and Osherman grabbed their end of the rope securely.
“Be very slow,” she told them.
The descent was smoother than Jodenny expected, though maybe their definition of slow didn’t match hers. The roof of the tunnel was close and she kept one hand on her head to keep from banging it. If not for her candle and its small circle of light, she’d be in utter darkness. After about five meters of sloping progress, the rope stopped moving and she came to a stop.
Fear flashed through her, but she ignored it. She tilted her head backward. “What’s wrong?”
No sound from above. No sound from below, either. Just the heavy press of rock all around here, the deep and abiding silence.
Claustrophobia wedged itself under her breastbone and began to grind its way toward her heart. Jodenny lifted the candle, trying to see back to the small circle of the opening. “Sam? Tulip?”
She tried not to think of all the ways they could have come to harm—a spider bite, down here? That crocodile. Surely it wasn’t moving around down here.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Answer me!”
The rope abruptly loosened, plunging her downward.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Jodenny yelped. She tried to slow herself but there was nothing to grasp on to, nothing that her poor abused fingers could grab for a handhold. The slide narrowed and twisted like a fun-park ride and she tried to pull her knees up, desperate to protect junior. The candle tumbled from her hand and was lost. Total darkness, terror now, and she screamed involuntarily.
Already her descent was slowing, however. Within seconds she was left sitting on bare rock, her legs and butt tingling while she gasped for air.
Her whole body ached but she didn’t think she’d been injured, and junior was squirming in a way that indicated no harm had been done inside. Still, her heart was beating so fast she thought she might vomit, and she was trapped in the pitch darkness deep in the caves, and the silence was so vast it might as well have been a vacuum. For a moment she was almost sure she was in the middle of the cosmos before the stars were born. The formless void, with her riding a rock ledge like some kind of magic blanket. There was no beginning and no end, no point of reference to hold and map against.
Pragmatism returned. She pulled herself to her feet and called out Sam’s and Tulip’s names until she heard a shout back. The two men appeared out of the gloom a few minutes later, and Osherman checked Jodenny worriedly for injuries.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “What happened?”
“Rope got snagged,” he said. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
Tulip pointed beyond Jodenny’s shoulder. “There she is.”
The Painted Child was nowhere near as impressive as she’d been lead to believe. Sure, it was large—as large as any other Child Sphere in the Seven Sisters. Yes, it was covered with Aboriginal designs and figures. But the colors were muted with dust and age, nothing special in the torchlight.
Osherman tugged on her sleeve. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Tulip retrieved more torches from the side of the wall and lit them. Jodenny still wasn’t impressed. Slowly she circled around the Child. In her mind it was supposed to have scaffolding and spotlights. This was just a big round chunk of stone, hollow, with a dark archway leading inside.
Osherman was watching her carefully. “Going inside?”
Jodenny stayed several meters from the arch. “No.”
He waited.
Tulip sat on the rough ground and watched them.
Jodenny put her hand on junior’s bump. She was immensely tired of being pregnant, and this long hike hadn’t improved her disposition. Osherman had been right—without the airship, she would never have succeeded in trekking out here from Sydney. There was no particular reason to tel
l him so, though. Nor would she tell him that her legs ached and her back hurt and she had heartburn, though she hadn’t eaten in hours.
Cohen hadn’t been happy about being left behind and she wished now there’d been room for him. He could have pointed out exactly where in the underground cavern he’d last seen Myell. Then again, maybe that was a detail she didn’t need burned into her brain. For all her brave words she was afraid that he really wasn’t coming back to her again. Surely the favor of the gods ran out at some point as they went and found new humans to toy with, new fools to send careening across the universe on fruitless quests.
“Are you happy now that you’ve seen it?” Osherman asked.
“No,” Jodenny admitted.
He put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t swat it away. He said, “Let’s go. It’ll be sunset soon, and I’m not sure how that thing flies at night.”
Jodenny stared past the archway. “No. I’m not leaving.”
“You’re what?” Osherman asked.
“Not leaving,” she said. “Not yet.”
Osherman’s confusion deepened. “Why not?”
Jodenny dropped her gaze to her skirt. Her face warmed. “Because I think my water just broke.”
Something rough and hard nudged Myell toward the surface.
“Do I have to do everything for you?” a voice asked.
He broke from water to air and gasped in breath. The back of his head hurt as if it had been cleaved open with an ax. The lights hanging from the ceiling blurred and swung in his vision. Cold water pushed and pulled on him from all sides and he wasn’t sure he was even treading water correctly—it kept sluicing up his nose, and his ears were full of it, and he couldn’t stop choking.
He was sure he’d heard a voice, though. Even more sure that someone had pushed him to the surface. “Tom?” he asked. Of Cappaletto there was no sign. “Tom!”
No Cappaletto, no Bell. Darling and the rest had also disappeared. The ceiling was still trying to collapse into the lake and more rocks glanced off his shoulders and arms as he tried to protect himself. He knew it would be easier to simply sink into the cold black water but he started swimming away. His legs and arms didn’t seem coordinated; they flailed around like the floppy arms of a marionette cut loose from its strings. The Painted Child telescoped away in his vision, then was so close he could almost touch it, and then his face smashed up against something else entirely.
The Stars Blue Yonder Page 31