by Maurice Gee
Dawn came up and looked at the bear. ‘He needs something for his wound.’
‘I must say goodbye to Soona,’ Susan said.
She saw Limpy and Soona walking towards her, hand in hand. Limpy’s face was flushed with triumph, and Soona was happy too, but a shadow seemed to darken her eyes as she looked at Susan.
‘Are you going?’
‘Yes. Home to Earth.’
‘It’s time for us to go,’ Nick said. ‘We can’t do any more here.’
‘But there will be a celebration. You must show us how to govern.’
‘No,’ Susan said. ‘O belongs to you. You can make it a good world now. You and the Folk.’ She put her hands on Soona’s shoulders. ‘Let me take off your wings.’ She turned her round and undid them. ‘Now you’re Soona the fishergirl. And Limpy, you can go to sea. You can be a fisherman.’
‘First I must help my father. We must set up a government. And get an army ready. And I must sail to Stonehaven and bring my mother back.’
‘Well,’ Susan said, ‘good luck with it.’ She did not want to think about armies. She wanted to get into the quiet of the bush. She kissed Soona and brushed away her tears.
‘Make a new flute, Soona. Promise me.’
‘I will.’
‘And think of me sometimes. I’ll think of you.’
‘Perhaps I’ll have dreams of Susan Ferris.’
Susan smiled. She embraced Soona. She waved to the Birdfolk in the sky. Then she and Nick and Jimmy and Ben and Dawn went along the arena and out through the main gate and up the road that led to Wildwood.
Chapter Twelve
Susan
They reached the banks of Sweetwater and turned towards the mountains. There was no need for hurry. They kept off roads and followed bush trails. Dawn found herbs and dressed Ben’s wound and they travelled at the bear’s slow pace.
In a village they exchanged Susan’s robes for a simple dress. She smoothed the homespun-cloth on her hips and looked at the black and silver garment in the village woman’s hands. It had the look of a dead thing, the skin sloughed by a snake. After that she walked more freely and sometimes hummed a tune as she went along.
From time to time Birdfolk passed overhead, flying down from the mountains. On the third day Nick counted more than a hundred. Then the Sweetwater turned north and they saw no more. Six days after starting out they reached a place where the river emerged from the base of a hill. ‘Why did we come this way?’ Nick said. ‘We must be miles from the cave.’
‘It’s straight above you, half a day’s walk,’ Jimmy said.
‘I’ll find Shy for you in the morning,’ Dawn said.
They made a fire and ate their evening meal. Ben slept with his head on his paws.
‘He’s like me, gettin’ past it,’ Jimmy said. ‘But he didn’ do too bad against that cat. Not bad fer an old age pensioner.’
‘Will you go back to Mount Nicholas?’ Nick asked.
‘Yeah. We’ll take it easy. One last trip fer ole Ben an’ me.’
‘What will you do then?’
‘Build a little shack and see me days out. By the river, where we can catch some salmon, eh ole feller?’
The bear opened one eye, closed it, snored again.
‘Dawn?’
‘I’ll go with them. Back to my friend.’
‘And we’ll go to Earth. I wish I could live in two worlds,’ Nick said.
Presently they heard the sound of Birdfolk. Yellowclaw and Silverwing walked into the light. ‘We saw your fire. We came to say goodbye.’
They brought news of a battle on the edges of the swamp. One of the Candidates had fled to the army and declared himself High Priest. But the army had defected and fought alongside the troops of the newly-formed Council. The new Priest was captured and executed. But the hunter priests and their dogs had fought on. The fight was fierce and many had died on both sides. ‘Without the help of the Birdfolk the battle would have been lost,’ Yellowclaw said. The priests were beaten. A few still roamed the swamp but they could do little damage. The religion of the Temple was dead.
‘Was Kenno hurt?’
‘He fought well. He sits on the Council now. Some say he will be President.’
‘What about Limpy?’
‘He has sailed to Stonehaven to bring his mother back.’
‘Soona? Is she all right?’
‘She sends her love,’ Silverwing said. ‘She has the stone-silk gloves and will take them back to Verna at Shady Home. And she said to tell you she has made a flute.’
Susan smiled. She felt that as long as Soona played her flute O would be happy.
In the morning, while the others made ready for the day, Jimmy took her walking in the bush. They went to the place where the river came from its cave.
‘They reckon this is the source of Sweetwater,’ Jimmy said, ‘but it ain’t, yer know. I found the source.’
He led her over a hill and down through bush into a valley. And there was the river again, running silently, as clear as glass. Pink and blue sand lay on its bed. The bush fell away and they came into a basin of hills with grass growing among weathered rocks. There lay a spring fifty metres across. Its surface stirred lazily with new water, and colours, pink and blue and green, shifted in it. Susan felt the water. It was cold as snow. It seemed to come from some pure source deep inside the mountains.
‘This is where she starts,’ Jimmy said. ‘And this is what I named after you, Susie.’
‘This?’
‘I thought you’d like it more than a waterfall.’
She looked at it. She looked deep into it. ‘Susan’s Spring.’
‘I just call it Susan,’ Jimmy said.
He left her there, and she spent the rest of the morning by the spring. She drank from it, she washed in it, shivering with cold, and seemed to wash away the last stain of the religion that had been named after her. When she followed the river down and climbed over the hill to the camp she felt that she had said goodbye to O.
Dawn was waiting with two Shy flowers. When they had eaten it was time to part.
‘You’ll be home by dark,’ Jimmy said.
‘Goodbye, Jimmy.’
‘I hope I don’t have no more dreams. I’m not goin’ inter deep freeze again fer anyone.’
‘Goodbye, Ben.’
They rubbed the old bear’s fur and hugged his neck. They hugged Dawn. She was the last Woodlander they would see.
Yellowclaw and Silverwing were circling overhead. All afternoon as Nick and Susan climbed into the mountains the Birdfolk kept them company. And when they came at dusk to the plateau in front of the cave, they dipped their wings, and cried their thanks, and dived like hawks down the flank of the land. They gleamed like sparks in the last of the sun, diminishing, dying out, against the dark of Wildwood.
Susan and Nick faced the cave. They held their flowers in their hands, and went inside to make their passage home.
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First published in 1984 by Oxford U
niversity Press, New Zealand
First published in Puffin Books, 1987
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Copyright © Maurice Gee, 1984
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ISBN: 978-1-74253-241-7