Euphoria Kids

by Alison Evans

  Iris stirs when I pass nearby, and I cover the torch but they’re already awake.

  ‘Hey,’ I say, crouching beside them. ‘We’re off now. Don’t forget your extra water in the fridge.’

  They nod, and I can see them slipping back into sleep. ‘Okay. Be safe.’ They yawn and close their eyes.

  ‘See you soon,’ I say, but I don’t know if they hear me.

  We slip out of the room and lace up our shoes. The kitchen light’s on.

  ‘Hey, Mum.’ I kiss her cheek. She’s made us porridge. ‘Aw, thanks.’

  ‘And some sandwiches, please take them.’ She nods to a stack of multigrain sandwiches next to her on the table. ‘It’s not a lot, but you shouldn’t weigh yourselves down.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  I put the cream cheese, avocado and cucumber sandwiches in my bag.

  ‘Please be safe,’ she says. She grips my hand a little tighter than normal.

  ‘We will be.’

  I hug her, and the boy and I basically inhale our porridge. The plan is that if Mahmoud or Iris’s parents come looking for us, we’ve just gone camping for the weekend. Mum’s covering for us because she’s the only person who gets what we’re doing. Which might not be the best plan, but it’s the only thing that can get me to the witch.

  Mum clutches her mug of coffee. ‘Send word if you need. I’m sure Iris could figure out how to.’

  ‘We’ll be okay, I promise. Don’t worry too much.’

  ‘Being a parent means constantly worrying, Babs. It’s just my job.’ She smiles at me.

  I hope we’re not gone for too long – if Mahmoud, Moss and Clover get worried it’ll be bad. And it’s not like Mum can tell them where we’ve actually gone.

  ‘Take this, will you?’ Mum says. She rustles through the mountain of stuff in the middle of the table, and eventually puts her hand in a pot. She gets out a stone and gives it to me. It’s clear with shards of black inside – the tourmalinated quartz Livia gave to me to pass on to Mum. When I handed it to her, she explained that gems with other gems inside them can mean two things, or be twice as powerful. This one is a good luck charm, and it’s protective. I rotate the stone in the light and feel secure in the spaces between the tourmaline. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘Just make sure you get home safe.’

  ‘We will.’

  We hug one more time, so hard I reckon my arms might fall off, then me and the boy go out the back door, through the garden, and into the trees.

  It’s still a little dark, though the sun is starting to rise. A magpie is singing, its voice curling around the eucalypts. A few butterflies flit through the trees.

  As we walk, I realise I’ve never gone down this path before. It just keeps going and going to the left, next to way more foliage than I’m used to – not just the national park plants, but the ones from the realm, too. The air’s thick with moisture and the smell of soil. We have to squeeze past trunks for a while. Then, as the trees ease off, the boy picks pine needles out of my hair.

  The tourmalinated quartz in my pocket warms up. I swallow. It’s probably fine.

  ‘Can you feel that?’ the boy asks.

  I turn around and see he’s shivering. It takes a sec for me to realise that because I’m holding the protection, I can’t feel the chill. When I take his hand, he relaxes straight away. ‘Cold fae must be nearby,’ I tell him.

  ‘How come it helps when we’re holding hands?’

  ‘The stone Mum gave me.’

  ‘And I guess you are made of fire.’ He grins. ‘Nice one.’

  I never thought of that. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I’ve barely come across them, and I’ve walked through the realm heaps in my life.

  We keep walking, hand in hand, for what feels like ages. My stomach rumbles, so we stop for a snack. I dig through my backpack for the muesli bars we packed last night, but they’re not in here. The boy checks his. Looks like we put them in Iris’s bag. ‘We’ve got trail mix?’ he asks, bringing out a bag full of nuts and dried fruit. I made sure we got the one with pineapple.

  We sit eating for a while. Soon, we hear something new. I strain my ears. ‘Reckon it’s Iris.’

  Neither of us says it might not be. We listen to the crunch of leaves underfoot, someone mumbling under their breath. Then through the trees we see a flash of red.

  ‘Iris!’ I say when I see it’s definitely them.

  A smile fires up in their face, and they wave. They half-jog over and gather us both in a hug. ‘How was your morning?’

  ‘We passed some cold fae, but they seemed to stay back as long as I had this stone my mum gave us.’ I show Iris the quartz. They reach out to touch it, and a buzz of static electricity jolts us both. ‘You get here okay?’

  They nod. ‘They followed me for a bit, too. But I’m okay. I made a protection sigil with the book, I think it’ll come in handy with your stone.’ They point to their chest.

  ‘Hm, okay, good. But maybe the cold fae know we’ll be here for a while, and there’ll be plenty of opportunity to get us off guard.’

  The boy swallows nervously. ‘Do you really think they know stuff like that?’

  ‘Probably. Here –’ I pass him the stone. ‘You should have it. Keep it in your pocket.’

  ‘Thanks.’ His fingers fold over the stone, he grips it tight. ‘All right. Let’s keep going.’ He nods, determined.

  The day is long, and Iris’s and the boy’s watches stop working. Well, they keep going, but they used to be synced up and now they’re showing different times. We only noticed because I tried to check the time on my phone, but it wouldn’t turn on.

  ‘When I met the witch,’ I say, ‘time went strange. Maybe this is that?’

  ‘Does that mean we’ll be gone for longer or shorter than the time outside the realm?’ Iris asks.

  ‘Last time it was shorter, I think.’ I try to remember the details. ‘Yeah, it felt like I was gone for ages, but then when Mum found me I’d barely been gone at all.’

  The realm feels different compared to all the times I’ve walked in it before. The air is closer, denser, wetter. There are insects on the ground I’ve never seen before, kind of like Christmas beetles but translucent.

  I notice Iris tracing their protection sigil under their shirt, over and over.

  We keep walking, mostly aimlessly. The cicadas are singing, and sometimes it seems we get real close to stepping on them. I almost feel like I know where I’m going, like there’s a deep hidden memory of how to reach the witch.

  ‘It doesn’t feel unsafe here,’ the boy says, when the sun is high in the sky. ‘I thought it would be scarier.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, not feeling as optimistic but not wanting to bring him down. ‘So far, so good. Let’s stop and have lunch.’

  The river is close by, so we sit on a big flat rock near it. While Iris refills our water bottles, I plate up the sandwiches, and the boy takes out the thermos of chai he’s been carrying.

  ‘Do you think we’ll have to camp tonight?’ Iris asks.

  I nod. ‘None of this seems familiar. You recognise it?’

  Iris shakes their head.

  ‘Do you think we’re going in the right direction?’ the boy asks.

  ‘Yeah.’ I don’t know how I know, maybe a memory, but it’s the right way.

  As the boy pours the tea into our metal camping cups, the sun begins to set. The birds start to quieten.

  ‘It was just like . . . lunchtime, right?’ I ask.

  The boy and Iris nod, looking around.

  ‘We better get the tent set up before it’s pitch-black.’

  I zip open the bag, and it’s super easy to put together. Me and the boy set it up while Iris gathers sticks for a campfire. Once it’s all ready, we keep having our tea and sandwiches.

  ‘Do you think this will
be one night, or will it be like, the rest of the day and the whole night?’ the boy asks.

  Iris and I look at each other. I shrug. ‘Dunno. Guess we have to wait and see.’

  We fall into silence, and although we only got up a few hours ago, I start feeling drowsy. But I know something’s out there. Can’t sleep yet.

  Iris seems to read my mind. ‘I feel like something’s there.’ They touch the ground and close their eyes, frowning. Their face shifts from concern to guilt. They open their eyes, and I turn to where they’re looking. It’s Saltkin.

  He’s a deep red, and he flies right up to Iris’s face. ‘I told you not to do this!’ He points a finger at them. ‘I’m trying to keep you safe. We don’t know what this witch can do!’

  ‘I couldn’t let Babs go on her own,’ they say. They look at me as if I could help, but I don’t know what to say.

  ‘This is a total rejection of everything I’ve ever taught you. How could you try to get around our bond, Iris?’

  ‘I couldn’t let her go by herself, and she would’ve. I couldn’t let her. I love her so much, Saltkin.’

  The campfire flares up when Iris says they love me. The fire in me burns brighter, too.

  Saltkin sighs, and he fades into peach. ‘I understand why you did this, Iris, but you’ve hurt me a lot.’

  They hold out a hand for him. ‘I know, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he says, ignoring the hand. Then he flies past them to sit next to the fire, and stares into it.

  I don’t know where to look. We finish eating in silence, Iris so heavy, then the three of us fall asleep in the tent. Saltkin stays outside, keeping watch.

  When I wake, it’s still dark. I have no idea how long I was asleep, but I’m alone in the tent. I lie still and listen to the crickets outside, to the boy and Iris chatting next to the fire. Can’t tell what they’re saying. I wriggle out of my sleeping-bag and put my pants on.

  When I get out there, the boy and Iris are huddled together. ‘Oh good, we were just about to wake you,’ the boy says.

  ‘Why?’

  A howl splits the night. Is that a wolf? I stumble a little in my rush to sit next to the others on the log.

  Iris is pale. ‘We’re not sure what to do.’ They trace the sigil through their shirt.

  ‘Hope for the best?’ I say. ‘I dunno. Are there wolves in the realm?’

  ‘What if it’s something else?’ the boy asks.

  Saltkin flickers into view, coming back from flying in the forest. ‘It’s okay. I’ll protect you.’ He throws a handful of powder into the fire, and it flares blue before returning to its regular colour.

  While the spell keeps whatever is howling away from us, we can hear its calls through the dark. They keep getting closer. One’s so close I feel like I should be able to see whatever is howling, should be able to reach out and put my hands in its fur, but nothing’s there.

  It feels like the night goes for a few days, but we don’t feel the need to eat, or go to the toilet, or even to shower. By the time a fresh dawn breaks through the trees, we’re ready to go on an all-day hike. Anything to get away from the howls that haven’t stopped till now.

  Saltkin says he has to leave, and he kisses Iris’s forehead before he goes. We wish he could stay, but he has things to take care of.

  We walk for a few hours in a row, not talking much. After we stop for lunch, we come across a ravine. It’s impossibly deep, and damp cold air seeps from it. We stand next to it for a while, contemplating the distance.

  Then I notice something growing in the ravine. ‘There they are!’ I say. ‘The witch flowers.’ Iris gasps, the boy pats me on the arm.

  I shiver. She’s so close.

  Do I really want to risk meeting the witch? And do I really want her to take the curse away? I frown. Of course I do.

  ‘Well, we can’t cross that,’ the boy says.

  ‘Looks like we have to, though,’ I reply. I don’t want to have put Iris and the boy in danger for nothing. We’ve come so far already.

  ‘Maybe there’s a bridge somewhere,’ Iris says, ‘if we walk along it for a bit. Or it’ll get smaller.’

  So we start to walk again, the cool air now making us all shiver. The birds aren’t singing, I realise, and the witch flowers aren’t growing in this part of the ravine.

  ‘There’s something in the trees,’ Iris says. ‘I can feel it.’ They sway. ‘I can see the air coming out of your lungs, I can hear your heartbeats . . . and the insects in the earth, the water in all the plants.’

  ‘Iris?’ I say. They sound strange, like an echo. ‘You told us where to go.’ I gasp when I realise. ‘The faerie bond!’

  Their eyes are rolling back in their head. I scramble to them, unsure how to help but I know I have to do something. They have to be okay!

  ‘Help me carry them,’ the boy says.

  We scoop Iris’s arms over our shoulders, walking them back the way we came, towards the flowers.

  ‘I’m sinking,’ they say.

  ‘Hang on,’ I say.

  We lie Iris on the ground.

  I need salt. Salt is cleansing. I’m digging through our packs. ‘Where is it?!’ I know I packed it. Mum wouldn’t have let me leave without it. ‘Fuck!’

  ‘All the worms in the earth,’ Iris says. ‘I can feel the water in your blood.’

  ‘Babs?’ the boy asks, tears in his eyes.

  I find the salt shaker and screw off the top, my hand shaking. ‘Open your mouth,’ I say to Iris, but they don’t understand or can’t hear. Their eyes are totally white now. I grab their jaw, force their mouth open, pouring in the salt. Don’t know how much is enough, have to guess. ‘The stone!’ I tell the boy.

  He puts it in Iris’s hand, curls their fingers around it.

  ‘Come on,’ I say, putting my hands over theirs. I will them to absorb whatever magic might be in the stone. ‘Please.’

  We sit, and we watch. Iris’s breathing slows. What if they die? What if this gentle plant person ceases to exist because of me? I lock eyes with the boy, and I start crying, too. Iris can’t leave, they can’t.

  Iris swallows, the sigil starts to glow through their shirt.

  I gasp.

  They slowly open their eyes and sit up.

  ‘You okay?’ the boy asks. I don’t think I can speak.

  ‘We’ve got to run,’ they say. ‘Now!’

  The coldness descends on us. I can’t move, but the boy and Iris take my hands, then we’re running. My backpack’s been left behind, but I’ve got the salt in my pocket. We run along the ravine and it seems to widen, wanting us to jump into its depths.

  The cold fae are close. I feel their sting on my heels and cry out.

  ‘Wait a sec,’ I say as I spot more flowers in the ravine. ‘Look at them.’

  The others keep running, don’t let me go.

  ‘No, no, it’s gotta mean something!’ I let go of their hands, icy tendrils on my back. ‘We have to jump!’

  ‘What?’ Iris yells.

  ‘We can’t run forever,’ I say, and I stop running. ‘Follow me!’

  I jump into the ravine, my eyes never leaving the flowers. Cold air rushes through me, skewering up my flesh, my bones.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Other Side

  It starts slowly, the feeling of being on the ground. At first I can sense the tips of the blades of grass against my bare legs, brushing the hairs there. The whole world smells like dirt, rich dirt. Then the firmness of the Earth creeps up, catching me from my fall, gently, curling me into itself. I lie here, being held by the planet.

  I hope this was a good idea and we’re not just dead.

  The Earth uncurls from around me, and I start to listen. There are whipbirds, magpies, bellbirds, birds
I don’t recognise. There is the rustle of the wind in the leaves, the rushing of a river, and then I hear the breathing of the others, as if they were right in my ear.

  When I open my eyes, slowly, blinking in the light, I see Babs and the boy spread out on the grass beside me. We’re in a little clearing surrounded by ferns and rocks and forest. There are flowers, too, the witch flowers, along with hundreds of others. Closest to me I can see blue-banded bees and other native species, as well as those ones that look like bumblebees but have purple heads. ‘Babs,’ I say, nudging her to get her attention.

  She rouses gently, coming out of the Earth’s hold. ‘We made it.’ She sighs. ‘Thanks for trusting me.’

  ‘It’s very calm here.’ I look around. I can’t feel the cold fae, can’t feel anything out of the ordinary.

  The boy sits up. ‘I smell smoke, like a fireplace.’

  Now that he says it, I can as well. The sun is setting through the trees, I realise, and all our things are strewn over the clearing.

  ‘We better set up the tent,’ I say, starting to stand.

  I gasp. From this angle, I can see a building through the trees. It’s small, made of mudbrick, tin roof.

  ‘There’s a house,’ I tell the others.

  ‘Do you think it’s the witch’s?’ the boy asks, coming to stand beside me.

  Babs stands too, and she stares at it for a while. ‘Yeah.’

  It doesn’t feel ominous to me. It just seems like a home.

  ‘Should we go up?’ I ask.

  Babs isn’t sure; she starts to flicker. She looks at me with wide eyes, and I pull her into a hug. I pat the back of her head, leaning into her. ‘It’s okay,’ I tell her. ‘Why don’t we just camp?’

  ‘No, we should go see her.’ Babs pulls away from the hug. ‘We’ve come this far, and I think we have to. I have to.’ She flickers once more, and then remains here. ‘You want to come with me?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say, as the boy nods.

  ‘All right.’

  We leave our stuff on the ground, and Babs leads us to the shack. As we get closer, we can smell food cooking, something garlicky. The day gets darker quickly, and the soft light coming from the windows is welcoming.