by Jon Mayhew
The Corporal glanced about his campsite and seemed to wilt. Ness followed his gaze, frowning. Now she had a proper chance to look at it, the place looked as though it had been ransacked. Crates lay tipped on their sides, empty sacks draped over them, here and there a barrel poked out of the sand, and Ness could see the remains of other tents collapsed and half buried. She thought of Sergeant Major Morris’s cluttered but orderly cottage. The only thing the Corporal and Morris appeared to have in common was a khaki uniform. Grubb’s jawline seemed to waver with indecision whereas Morris’s jutted out defiantly; his shoulders sloped where Morris’s were square. Grubb was a broken man, as far as Ness could see.
‘I’m on me own now,’ the Corporal said in a low voice, stroking his palm over his balding head. ‘Can’t keep the place as shipshape as I’d like.’ He gave a cough and straightened his back. ‘Anyway,’ he said, raising his voice and striding over to one of the submerged tents and rummaging in the sand. ‘I think I might ’ave something better.’ He stood up and revealed a belt with a flourish that reminded Ness of a conjuror. ‘It belonged to one of my boys.’ Grubb looked away. ‘He . . . Well, he don’t need it now.’
Ness wrapped the belt around the carpet and yanked it tight, buckling it and slamming a wooden crate over the whole lot just for good measure. She looked up and saw Grubb scurrying towards the edge of the oasis.
‘You don’t seem very surprised by my appearance,’ Ness called, catching up with him. ‘Or by the carpet, for that matter.’
Grubb gave a twisted grin full of crooked teeth. ‘I’m a corporal in the Fourth Hinderton Rifles,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen most things. You learn to not be surprised by anything.’
‘How did you end up here?’ Ness asked, taking a moment to stare around at the desert. The edge of the oasis was to their left. Thin tree trunks crushed close together, shaded by green leaves. Even in the narrow shadows between the trees, Ness thought she could see movement.
Grubb gave a sigh. ‘I told you. I’m a soldier. The Fourth Hindertons are special though.’ He stopped. ‘Were special. I don’t suppose there’s many of us left now, if any.’
‘Why not?’ Ness said.
The Corporal seemed to shudder. ‘It’s an old story,’ he muttered, glancing into the shadows. ‘As the British empire grew, us soldiers found ourselves in stranger and stranger lands. Sometimes we were up against . . . Well, let’s just say against things that shouldn’t exist. It’s a big world and there’s more in it than we understand.’
‘So the Hinderton Rifles were formed to fight these . . . things?’ Ness said.
Grubb turned suddenly and grabbed Ness’s hands. ‘Demons, monsters, wraiths and ghosts, bloodsuckers and night crawlers!’ he gabbled, his eyes wide. ‘I’ve seen ’em all. Killed ’em all. Seen me mates killed by ’em.’ He stopped and shook his head. ‘The bloodsuckers are the worst – they change people . . .’
‘I . . . I’m sorry,’ Ness murmured, easing her hands out of his cold grasp. She remembered Morris’s sometimes strange, haunted behaviour. She didn’t know why but she didn’t want to mention Morris to this man. ‘So what brought you here?’
‘The Amarant.’ Grubb’s eyes glowed. ‘We were an expeditionary force sent into the desert to find this oasis. To find it and destroy it if we could.’
‘Destroy it? Why?’
‘It’s a place of mischief and evil,’ Grubb said, shaking. ‘It was our mission to go in and cut the trees down, every one, raze the place to the ground. Fifty men came ’ere.’
‘Fifty men?’ Ness echoed. ‘And you’re the only one left?’
Grubb looked down, licked his lips. ‘We sent party after party into the oasis. The trees just swallowed them up. They never came out again – well, not all of ’em.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ness frowned.
‘Oh, listen to me,’ Grubb said, his voice a little too loud, a little too cheery. ‘All doom and gloom. Wastin’ time telling horror stories. We’d better find that pal of yours quick time!’
‘Right, come on,’ Ness said, dragging back the branches at the fringe of the oasis.
Grubb caught her elbow. ‘I wouldn’t recommend actually goin’ in,’ he muttered, craning his neck and squinting his eyes.
‘But I can’t just waste my time wandering around the edge,’ Ness snapped. ‘Azuli could be injured in there.’
‘You go in and you’ll be lost in a second, dead in a minute,’ Grubb hissed.
‘What’s in there that’s so dangerous?’ Ness said, pursing her lips. ‘You started to tell me but then clammed up.’
Grubb flinched a little and then settled on an old tree trunk that was white and bleached by the sun. ‘They say that all this round ’ere used to be the Garden of Eden.’ Grubb swung his hand slowly over his head. ‘Until the good Lord took it all away up to heaven. But one little bit was left behind, see.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard that before,’ Ness said, screwing up her face to stare around at the desiccated scenery.
‘Trouble is, so I’m told, this ’ere oasis is so soaked in ancient magic that it became like a magnet, drawing all kinds of strange things from the spirit world. Ghosties and ghouls and the like.’ Grubb’s voice was little more than a whisper and Ness shivered despite the blazing heat. ‘They can’t resist it, y’see. Drawn to it like moths to a candle flame. It’s like a gateway. An outlet where all manner of fiend and afrit comes a-tumblin’ into the real world. So, I’m sorry to say that if your friend is in there, he don’t stand a chance against ’em.’
They wandered along the edge of the oasis for what seemed like hours. Grubb would squint into the shadows from the brightness of the desert, wary of even stepping into the shade cast by the trees. From time to time he would pick up a broken branch and poke it gingerly into the undergrowth but he wouldn’t venture any further. Ness would barge forward only to be yanked back.
‘I’m tellin’ yer, it’s suicide to go any deeper,’ Grubb whined.
‘I won’t give up on him,’ Ness finally declared, stamping back towards the camp. ‘I have the carpet – I can fly over, search for him that way.’
Into the late afternoon, Ness flew back and forth, criss-crossing the oasis, peering into its depths. Sometimes she thought she saw something shift or squirm in the darkness beneath the leaves, but she never saw any sign of Azuli. At times, she hovered, dragging back the uppermost branches of the trees and calling his name into the emptiness below. No birds sang, no animals roared. All stayed silent and Azuli did not call back.
Ness felt hollow and empty. She had found the Oasis of the Amarant but all she could think of was Azuli. She bit her lip and swallowed hard.
Lowering the carpet beneath the canopy, Ness peered to the ground. It was like being underwater; a blue shadow tinted everything. How could a place that once sustained the Amarant feel so desolate and deathly silent?
The shadows grew darker, forcing Ness up and out of the oasis. Evening was coming. She gave a final shout and a sigh before turning the carpet back towards Grubb’s camp.
A fire crackled outside his tent by the time Ness returned. The flames wobbled, casting long shadows and making Grubb’s face seem even more twisted. He squatted, warming his knobbly fingers over the flames.
‘No luck?’ he said as Ness sat opposite him, binding the belt around the carpet.
‘No,’ she said, staring into the flames. The darkness surrounded them and Ness felt as if the sphere of flickering light was all that remained of the world. She picked up the canteen and drank deeply. Then she stopped and frowned, holding the container up to the light. ‘Where do you get water from?’
Grubb looked at her across the fire. ‘Funny you should ask,’ he said, settling himself on his haunches. ‘And it’s a bit of a story. We came ’ere ten years ago. All one hundred of us. We lost a few on the way, as yer do.’
‘You said fifty before! You lost half your men just getting here?’ Ness frowned.
‘These are cruel lands,’ Corporal Gr
ubb said, giving a lopsided grin that faded as he continued. ‘The first group of twenty who went into the oasis just didn’t come out again. Never saw ’em, never knew what happened to ’em. The captain and a couple of men went in to find ’em.’ The shadows seemed to shift around them. Ness could hear the sound of sand sifting through something; a hissing, shushing noise. Grubb continued, apparently unconcerned. ‘The captain came back this time. He was different though. Changed.’
Ness looked from left to right. The ground seemed to be moving under her. She jumped up. ‘What’s happening?’ she demanded.
Grubb stared at her. ‘I watched ’im drain the blood from every last man ’ere and they all changed in turn. Then he came to me.’
A pale hand punched up through the sand to Ness’s left, then another to her right. Behind Grubb, a figure in torn khaki heaved itself from the ground as the sand around it sank into the space beneath. A young man, tall with a thin beard over his pointed chin. His hair was long, slicked back. His skin was leprous white, lined and dry. He grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the firelight.
‘But he let me live, see.’ Grubb turned to face the creature. ‘Got yer another one, captain, sir.’ He saluted.
More figures dragged themselves from the sand.
‘I find them blood, they get me water from the pool. Easy, really. Sorry an’ all but it’s me or you. I’m sure yer understand.’
Truth is brighter than the light,
Falsehood darker than the night.
‘Riddles Wisely Expounded’, traditional folk ballad
Chapter Twenty-four
The Pool
The bloodsuckers stood all around Grubb now, leering at Ness. She could see that they had been ordinary men once, soldiers in khaki. The remnants of their uniforms hung from their pale bodies. But their faces looked harsh, pointed in nose and chin. Cruel fangs filled their mouths and sharp talons tipped their long fingers. At the front stood the younger man, their captain, his sinewy arms folded as he appraised Ness with greedy, crimson eyes.
‘I don’t enjoy it,’ Corporal Grubb said, his voice almost apologetic. ‘But I was dyin’ of thirst first time ’e came to me. See, they can’t live without blood an’ the daylight kills ’em. They can live in that dark oasis fer a bit but they ’as to go underground eventually. They needed me. Made a deal, we did. That water from the pool, it lasts for months, never goes green. You’d be amazed ’ow many folks come lookin’ for this place even now.’
‘You’re a monster,’ Ness hissed, edging backward to the wooden crate.
The carpet rattled and bucked inside as if it sensed the danger and wanted to get away too.
The captain gave a low chuckle and took a step, signalling to two of the other bloodsuckers. The pair loped forward, reaching out for Ness. She ducked beneath the arms of one and kicked the legs out from under the other. The bloodsucker howled as he tumbled backward into the fire. Flames licked their way up his bone-dry clothes, consuming his desiccated flesh. Howling, the creature stumbled off into the night.
But the other swung round and grabbed Ness about her neck. Ness could smell the creature’s rank breath on her cheek; feel his cold, dry skin against hers. She kicked back at him as the captain advanced, flanked by the remaining soldiers. Ness flipped herself forward, doubling up and sending the creature behind sailing over her head. Without pausing, she kicked over the crate that held the carpet. The carpet bounced off the ground, still held by the leather belt. Ness pounced on it, fumbling at the buckle. Cold hands grabbed at her, pulling her back. Ness punched out, trying to get the belt free, but her stomach lurched as she was dragged to her feet.
She was held now, a soldier at each elbow, gripping her tight. The captain stepped towards her, laughing as Ness lashed out with her feet. The firelight glowed on his white cheek as he opened his mouth close to hers.
Then he stopped.
‘What’s this?’ he hissed, pulling back from Ness’s neck and staring at Grubb.
‘What d’you mean?’ Grubb rubbed his hands together and scurried forward. ‘She’s a girl. A human girl. I couldn’t ’ave got a better feast for you if I’d chosen her meself!’
‘She’s not for us,’ hissed the captain, turning on Grubb.
‘Not fer you?’ Grubb whined. ‘I don’t understand . . . I . . .’ His eyes widened as the soldiers dropped Ness and started to pace towards him.
‘She’s not for us,’ the captain repeated. ‘But we hunger.’
Ness didn’t wait to watch. She threw herself down again, gripping the carpet with one hand and freeing the belt with the other. The carpet flapped open, rippling for a second. She pulled herself up on to the front. Something snagged it as it took off. Ness glanced at the weight that had suddenly thrown itself on to her back.
‘Don’t let them get me,’ Grubb sobbed as he gripped on to her hair, the carpet – anything to stop him from slipping.
‘Don’t! You’re pulling me down,’ Ness hissed. Her fingers slid along the carpet as Grubb tried to scrabble over her.
‘They’ll kill me,’ he sobbed, slipping slightly. ‘I don’t want to be like them.’
But the carpet had other ideas. With a flick and a twist, it sent Grubb sailing downward. Ness couldn’t pull her gaze from his startled face as he dwindled down towards the pale figures around the firelight below. With a gentle thump and a cloud of ashes, Grubb hit the ground, landing by the fire. Ness squeezed her eyes shut as the pack of bloodsuckers threw themselves at the twitching body, but not quite in time to blot out the image of flame licking across Grubb’s uniform and the fountain of red that hissed in the heat of the fire.
Something whipped her face. Ness opened her eyes but could only see the darkness of the oasis. The carpet had flown straight into the canopy of trees.
‘You did that on purpose,’ Ness snarled, yanking at the front.
But they were already deep into the jungle. Branches and creepers tore at Ness, wrapping around her and threatening to drag her off the carpet. Briars ripped at her cheek. A thick overhanging branch loomed in front of her. Ness forced the carpet beneath it but her shoulder glanced off another limb that protruded from the great tree trunk.
A sickening stab of pain lanced up her neck and down her side as her arm flapped free, broken like a straw and now being buffeted by the foliage around her. The trees pulled and tore at her hair. The carpet twisted over as if wringing itself out and, with a scream, Ness plunged down, bouncing off branches and ripping through thorns until the leafy ground rose up to meet her.
The impact forced every breath of air from Ness’s body. The crack of ribs and the thud of her weight on the earth filled her ears. She curled up, writhing in silent agony on the ground until, not caring what happened next, she let herself slip into unconsciousness.
How long Ness lay there, she wasn’t sure. She opened her eyes a crack. Bile filled her throat, forcing her to roll over and vomit into the soft, mossy ground. Her whole body throbbed with pain. Her ribs, her arm and shoulder all pulsed agonisingly. The canopy she had fallen through allowed only a few ghostly shafts of sunlight through. It was daytime, then. She tried to sit up but pain burned in her shoulder and she fell back, groaning. Flies danced in and out of the pillars of grey light. She realised that she lay in a clearing; the thick jungle formed a wall that circled her.
Something thrashed around above her head. Ness squinted up. An indistinct silhouette wriggled and twisted as if trapped up in the canopy. Then a closer sound made her heart pound. Footsteps breaking through the undergrowth. Ness grunted, trying to get up, but fell back wincing. Nausea pressed at her throat again. Her arm lay useless at her side, throbbing with pain. The cracking of twigs grew louder. I’m helpless, she thought.
The sound came nearer. Gritting her teeth, Ness pushed up with her good arm. Her ribs burned and her shattered arm swung like an excruciating pendulum. Gasping with every move, she managed to stagger to her feet. The clearing tipped and swung around as she struggled to stay upright. With a m
oan, she staggered backward, trying to keep her footing, but the ground vanished from under her and she felt herself falling.
The cold hit her. Icy, wet. She glimpsed a figure emerging from the shadows but then the black water she had stumbled into engulfed her, roaring in her ears as she sank beneath the surface.
For a second Ness felt weightless. Her pain receded and the freezing water revived her. Freezing? How can that be? Even in the gloomy clearing, the heat had been unbearable.
Ness kicked her legs, amazed at the lack of pain. She sliced at the water with her good arm and instinctively brought up her other arm. No pain! No break! Although underwater, she opened her eyes to inspect her arm.
And then something gripped her ankle and began to pull. What little air Ness had held in her body bubbled to the surface as she let out a silent scream in the blackness of the water. Something was dragging her down. A hand with fingers of icy iron.
All wish for knowledge but none wish to pay the cost.
Traditional proverb
Chapter Twenty-five
Death Dream
Ness floated in blackness. Water filled her mouth and throat. She felt its coldness in her lungs but somehow she wasn’t drowning. She didn’t even feel a sense of panic. Beneath her a dim light glowed. She stared down, drifting towards it, pulled as if by a current. The light grew stronger and Ness watched as a scene flickered into view.
She recognised the nursery straight away; her bed with its flowered bedspread, a fire crackling merrily behind the guard, dolls and toy soldiers scattered across the thick rug. Ness could only see the back of the little girl’s head as she sat on her mother’s knee, her black hair tied in rags, but Ness knew she looked on her own younger self. Her mother’s long blonde hair spilled down her shoulder and over Ness’s. Ness could smell her perfume. They wore their nightgowns and shadows danced on the walls to the wavering of a candle flame. Her mother held a book open and read to Ness.