The Jasper Forest

by Julia Gray

  'No. I'll leave him to you,' Farazin said. 'Is he still talking in riddles?'

  'Yes.' No one except Terrel paid much attention to anything Talker said. Even he could make little sense of the disjointed ramblings, but the occasional reminders of Alyssa's speech patterns had kept the boy interested. He had tried to question Talker about the star he claimed to have seen, but had been unable to get a sensible answer.

  'Do you really think he could be a healer?' Farazin asked, his own doubts obvious.

  'Yes, I do.' Terrel had tried to involve his 'apprentice' when he'd been asked to visit a sick child the previous day, but the girl's parents had objected -

  and

  Terrel had given way rather than cause any distress. That evening Talker had seemed dejected, his usual flow of nonsensical chatter reduced to occasional short utterances. Terrel had spent some time with him, hoping his presence would be a comfort, and realizing in the process that Talker was probably lonely. He was the last patient left in the infirmary, and his blindness not only isolated him but also prevented him from leaving the hut on his own, so he had to rely on visitors for any sort of human contact.

  'I just hope someone will give him a chance,' Terrel added.

  'You can't blame people for being wary of him,' Farazin said.

  'Because he's mad, you mean?'

  'And blind. He can't even see what he's doing.'

  'That doesn't matter. Touch is more important than sight. He may look odd, but I don't exactly look normal and people accept me.'

  'They do now,' the sky-watcher conceded. 'But some people had reservations about you before you proved yourself.'

  Terrel couldn't deny the truth of that, though the injustice still rankled.

  'How is Talker supposed to prove himself unless he's given the opportunity to try?'

  Farazin shrugged, then began to study his chart once more. Although something about the possible source of Talker's healing had just occurred to Terrel, he said nothing - but he wished that Alyssa was there to discuss it with him.

  It had been three days since he'd seen her and the ghosts, and he wondered when they'd return. He hoped it would be soon. During those three days it had rained almost continuously, and the level of the river had risen appreciably so that in places it was now a raging torrent. Although this hadn't caused any serious accidents so far, Terrel had the feeling that it was only a matter of time before his talents might be called upon again.

  The villagers had been forced to cut back on their prospecting, and this -

  combined with the loss of the Demon's Cauldron — made it a difficult time for many. As frustrations grew, it became more and more likely that someone would do something foolish.

  During the last few hours the deluge had eased a little, and there had even been a few glimpses of blue sky amongst the previously uniform grey of the clouds. But now a new squall blew across the village, bringing with it a fresh downpour that lashed the mountainside and churned up the surface of even the more placid sections of the river.

  'Does it often rain as much as this?' Terrel asked. Although the winter had apparently been relatively mild, he was used to a different climate, one that was ruled by the ocean — and where the islands were in the ocean. The wind and rain of the mountains of Macul seemed unusually violent to him. The only thing worse on Vadanis been the tornadoes — and they had not been natural phenomena.

  'Sometimes,' Farazin replied indifferently, rolling up his chart to protect it from a few drops blown in by the swirling wind. 'At least with all this cloud about no one can tell when I get the cycles of the moons wrong.'

  *

  When the rain finally stopped, Terrel walked up the hill to the infirmary and found that Talker had a visitor. Sitting next to him, apparently quite at ease in the company of a madman, was Davi. Terrel was delighted by this development, and was about to greet them when Davi glanced up and held a finger to his lips. Talker was holding something in his cupped hands. The ex-miner's fingers were dirty and calloused, but he moved them with a certain grace, and was now evidently treating whatever lay on his palms with great care. There was an expression of delight on his face.

  'Ri-deep.'

  Talker reacted by echoing the croak exactly, and then he laughed. His mimicry had been so precise that had Terrel not seen his lips move, he would have looked around for a second frog.

  'Ri-deep.' The real frog, which Terrel could now see in the blind man's hands, seemed similarly impressed.

  The croaking conversation went on for some time, reducing all three humans to laughter, before Terrel made himself interrupt.

  'Is this one of your pets?' he asked the little boy.

  'Not really. I just found her in the river and thought Talker might like to see ... to meet her.'

  'That was kind of you. Do you like the frog, Talker?'

  'Ri-deep,' the miner replied, grinning broadly. 'Feet of fish and wings of mouse.'

  'I think that means yes,' Davi said.

  'I think you're right,' Terrel agreed.

  'Many floating dreams in their bubbles,' Talker said, nodding. 'Many.'

  'Frogspawn,' Davi translated. 'She's pregnant.'

  Such an explanation would never have occurred to Terrel, but he could see how it might make sense.

  'Can you always tell what he's talking about?'

  'Not always,' Davi replied solemnly. 'You have to listen sideways.'

  That, Terrel thought, made as much sense as anything. Davi could not be much more than five years old, but he was a remarkable child in many ways. His friendship with Talker was only the latest indication of this. Apart from his unusual affinity with all living creatures, he had also taken the presence of the ghosts - and their sudden disappearance - in his small stride. At the time Terrel had not been sure what to tell him, but had decided in the end to stick to the truth. Davi had simply nodded, and commented that these ghosts 'weren't like the ones in the glade'. According to him, Elam and the seers had been

  'proper people', whereas the others were just shapes. He had also agreed, without demur, that the ghosts' visit would remain their secret. Davi had asked whether they would come back and, if they did, whether he could meet them properly, but after that he had not mentioned the subject again.

  For his part, Terrel had wondered how the little boy could have seen around that particular spectral corner, when neither Ysatel nor Kerin had been able to do so. Was it simply that his young mind was more amenable to "impossible'

  sights? Perhaps he had some special talent that was unique to him.

  'Can you teach me to listen sideways?' Terrel asked now.

  Davi cocked his head to one side - in a gesture that reminded Terrel of Alyssa

  - and frowned. 'I'm not sure,' he said.

  'Jewels burning,' Talker announced, turning his blind eyes towards Terrel.

  'Five shadows, one flame. Wings within wings.'

  Terrel looked at Davi expectantly, wondering whether this might be an obscure reference to the amulet from Tindaya, but the young boy just shrugged, evidently at a loss.

  'I don't know what he means,' he said.

  Talker twisted round, offering the frog back to Davi.

  'Jump legs deeper round.'

  Davi accepted the creature, cradling it in his much smaller hands.

  'I'll take her back to the river.'

  For the first time a touch of uncertainty entered Talker's expression. A moment later, he was looking distinctly anxious.

  'Mountain blood dreams,' he mumbled, then pushed himself to his feet.

  The others got up too, steadying the blind man as he swayed a little. Terrel was about to ask what the matter was, but then the question became irrelevant.

  A distant rumbling noise made his blood run cold. He knew immediately that this was no ordinary earthquake - there had been no internal trembling to warn him — but the ground was shaking nonetheless.

  Terrel left the others and ran out of the hut as fast as he was able, then turne
d to look up at the source of the noise. What he saw was worse than anything his imagination had already conjured up.

  High above them, on the far side of the river, a great wall of black mud was sliding down the mountainside, swallowing everything in its path.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There was nothing Terrel - or anyone else - could do. There hadn't been any warning, and the speed and power of the avalanche was so great that there was no question of trying to go to the aid of those directly in its path. The onlookers could only watch helplessly as the churning deluge rolled on. Within moments the entire eastern side of the village was engulfed and the only thing that saved the rest was the river bed itself, which contained the edge of the gigantic mudslide. As it was, the sudden impact created miniature tidal waves, set off explosions of foam and dirt, and diverted the river into a hundred new streams. All of these caused some danger, but the damage was negligible compared to the devastation on the far bank. In less time than it took Terrel to catch his breath after his dash from the hut, the shape of the mountainside had changed beyond recognition, and half of Fenduca was gone for ever.

  *

  In the days that followed, all those who were physically able to do so were kept fully occupied by their rescue attempts. It was backbreaking work, hampered by further falls of rain and the constant fear of another avalanche, and for the most part their efforts went unrewarded. Although a few bodies were recovered, no one was found alive, and most of those who were missing were eventually presumed to have died.

  It was much the same story with the village's property. Everything in the path of the mud had either been swept away, smashed to pieces or buried so deep that it was now permanently out of reach.

  The only solace for those coping with the disaster was that it could have been much worse. If the mudslide had happened in the evening, or at night - rather than in the middle of the day - many more people would have been at home in their huts, and the death toll would have been even higher. However, those from the eastern side had survived with nothing more than the clothes they stood up in, and many of the homes on the relatively unscathed west bank were now overcrowded with homeless refugees.

  A lot of people had been injured either in the mudslide or during the salvage work that followed, and Terrel was kept very busy, every waking hour filled with the need to ease some sufferer's pain, until he was close to exhaustion himself. His dizzy spells began to happen more often, but he dismissed Ysatel's concerned pleas that he get more rest, knowing that his healing talent was one of the few things that gave the villagers some comfort.

  He was helped in his efforts by several of the women and even some of their children, but also - most surprisingly - by Talker. Terrel had encouraged the blind man

  to try to help when it became clear that all possible avenues ought to be explored, and - in spite of some initial suspicion on the part of the patients and other villagers - Talker met with increasing success. Davi had become his

  'eyes', leading the blind man to anyone who needed him, and sometimes translating the miner's peculiar utterances into something the others could understand. Terrel was naturally delighted by this development, partly because it took some of the pressure off him, and partly because it gave Talker a new purpose in life. Before many days had passed, the ex-miner had been accepted into the community in a way that would never have been possible under any other circumstances, and he seemed much happier in himself. But he paid a price for his successes, in the form of periodic blackouts. Although none of these lasted as long as his earlier spell of unconsciousness, they nonetheless caused some anxiety. However, Talker himself seemed to take them in his stride, often waking and going straight back to work as if nothing had happened.

  Most people assumed that he had learnt his burgeoning skills from Terrel, but the boy knew this was far from being the whole story. Even if he had prompted their use, Talker must have had some innate abilities of his own, and Terrel wondered whether his sudden blindness might also have been a factor in their emergence. Was it possible that his healing was in some way compensation for his handicap, just as Alyssa thought his own talent might have stemmed from his injured limbs? Either way, Terrel was simply grateful for the extra help.

  Terrel lost track of how many people he helped to heal mselves during the aftermath of the disaster, but he

  was in little doubt as to which encounter had been the most memorable. Cutter had sustained only minor injuries in the mudslide, but he had lost his home and most of his possessions. Fortunately for him - and for several prospectors

  - his jewel pouch had been strung around his neck as usual when the catastrophe had happened, but he'd spent more time and effort than was sensible in trying to recover his other belongings. As a result some of his wounds had become infected and this, combined with his exhaustion, had left him vulnerable to illness. When Terrel had come to see him, the fever had taken hold and Cutter's eyes were wild, obviously seeing visions from the nightmare world he now inhabited. Although he seemed unaware of his surroundings, he had reacted to Terrel's presence - snarling angrily and waving hands made feeble by disease. Terrel ignored his evident animosity and tried to calm him, hoping that this would be the first step in Cutter's recovery. Eventually, overcome by his own weakness, Mitus had allowed Terrel to touch him, and soon after that had fallen asleep.

  He slept all night and all the next day, waking only when Terrel returned the following evening to check on his progress. The rest had clearly done him some good; the fever had begun to abate and his eyes, while still wary, were no longer full of dreams. He said nothing, answering Terrel's questions with either a nod or a shake of his head, but he allowed the healer to take his hand again. For the first time with a human patient, Terrel found himself falling into a different realm, 'seeing' beyond himself to a landscape of sensation and mystery. Although it lasted only a few moments, it was enough for him to be certain that Cutter was on his way to a full recovery - and from the frightened look of wonder on his face, it seemed that Mitus had felt something too. No words were exchanged, but by then none was needed.

  Adversity brought the people of Fenduca closer together, reinforcing their need for cooperation. After the initial necessities had been taken care of, the village elders asked various families and individuals to undertake specific tasks for the benefit of all. Some turned their attention to building new shelters on the untouched ground of the western side. The far bank of the river was still shifting, treacherous terrain, where each day brought fresh mudslides, so nothing was possible there - and with the infirmary full to overflowing and every available hut filled to capacity, the need for extra sleeping space was urgent. Others were asked to collect food - either by hunting, fishing or gathering early spring crops - and to distribute it to everyone in need. Firewood was urgently required too, and a number of the older children were sent to forage in the nearby woods. A group of men were instructed to return to their prospecting, on the understanding that any proceeds from their finds would be divided among those who were unable to return to work yet. In this way, Fenduca was able to continue trading with the outside world, albeit on a much reduced scale, and could acquire more of the things they needed to rebuild the life of their village. There was some grumbling about the division of labour, but for the most part the system worked well, and a semblance of normality began to return.

  Farazin's called a gathering for tomorrow morning,' Kerin said.

  'I know,' Olandis replied.

  'Lereth told us on the way up here,' Aylen added.

  The brothers had just returned from their latest fishing trip and, for the first time in ages, the family was able to sit round the fire together for their evening meal. The weather had relented at last, and the day had been sunny, with the promise of spring in the mild air.

  'Do you know what he wants to discuss?' Ysatel asked.

  'I think he wants to decide how soon we should go back to normal,' Kerin replied. 'The sharing's worked, up to a point, bu
t it's not a long-term solution. There's always some who think they're getting nothing but the tail-bones of the fish.'

  'But that's always been true!' Ysatel exclaimed. 'What about those families who haven't got anyone left to earn an ordinary living? What about the orphans, or the people still in the infirmary?'

  'No one's suggesting we abandon them,' Kerin said calmly, 'but can you imagine what would happen if one of the prospectors made a really big find, the sort of thing that would transform their life? Should he still be expected to share it with everyone else?'

  'There's only been a few allowed to work,' Olandis pointed out. 'Most of us haven't had the chance of a big find.'

  'I know that,' his father responded, 'but this sort of problem will arise sooner or later. In the end, people will have to learn to stand on their own two feet again.'

  'Even if they don't have two feet?' Ysatel asked indignantly. Both she and Terrel had tended people who were unlikely to be able to walk again.

  'We'll do what we can for those who can't help themselves,' Kerin told her, 'but am I supposed to put their welfare before that of my wife and children?'

  Ysatel looked as though she was about to say something more, but evidently thought better of it.

  'Nothing's decided yet,' Kerin went on. 'We'll see what the feeling is at tomorrow's gathering. The elders are going to want your advice, Terrel.'

  'Me? I'm not even—'

  'You're one of us now,' Aylen said, anticipating Terrel's reaction. 'You've proved that many times over.'

  'And if we're ever to return to normal,' Kerin added, nodding his agreement,

  'we need to know how the health of the village is likely to progress. Who else should we ask about that?'

  Although Terrel was now at ease with most of the villagers when he met them individually, the thought of addressing the entire gathering made him feel very nervous.

  'All right,' he said quietly.

  'Is the food ready yet?' Aylen asked. 'I'm starving.'

  Nearly,' Ysatel told him. 'We'll eat as soon as the others get here.'