I was becoming obsessed.
I wanted to ask Noah if he would help me to find her, but maybe I was better off not asking anyone anything. If I didn’t bring it up, I wouldn’t have to try to articulate what I was feeling. But how could I understand what I should feel without talking to someone? I needed my best friend’s advice.
‘Catch twenty-two,’ Noah said.
‘What?’ Had I been thinking out loud?
‘You’re really not listening to me, are you? I said I was hoping to get my tandem hang gliding licence before peak tourist season starts, but I’m running out of time. It’s going to be hard to fit in enough practice hours. It costs a lot in petrol to drive all the way to the training centre only to find that the weather’s no good. I need money to get my licence, and I need the licence to earn more money.’
‘Tandem licence? They trust you to take some poor sucker up there with you?’ I wove two golden daisies together and tossed them into the air so we could watch them crash-land. Noah gave a half laugh but looked just a little bit offended, so I relented. ‘Perhaps in the holidays I will come gliding with you,’ I suggested. ‘I’ll pay for the petrol if you can get me a deal on a flight.’
He looked a bit uncomfortable. ‘Um, Lainie, it might be better if you don’t.’
‘Good on ya,’ I scoffed. ‘I’m not that unco. If I can ride a horse I can fly a hang glider.’
His blond eyebrows rose. ‘It’s hardly the same thing as riding …’ Then he sighed. ‘That’s not what I meant, anyway. I just don’t think Claudia would be too happy if I took you flying, that’s all.’
My lapful of yellow daisies scattered in a flurry of agitation. ‘Oh, come on! You can’t be serious! Who does she think she is? How dare she try to tell you what you can and can’t do?’
‘Because only you’re allowed to do that?’ he snapped back.
‘When have I ever—’
‘Oh, let’s see. How about yesterday when you told me I should get my Psych homework done instead of taking Claudia to the movies?’
‘And did you listen to me?’
He made a rude, dismissive noise. ‘Of course not! My point still stands, though. And how about all those times you keep telling me to—’
‘Okay, this conversation is going nowhere good,’ I interrupted.
‘You’re jealous.’
‘Why would I be jealous of you? I can’t stand Claudia. Her fingernails are too long and she ties her shoelaces funny.’
Noah’s lips twitched in spite of himself, but then he caught my eye with a challenging stare. ‘What if I’d asked you to come to the movies instead? Would you have still stayed home to study?’
My mouth kept working but all of my words were hiding somewhere behind my uvula. The cowards. I knew the correct response was ‘Yes, unless it was a movie by Peter Jackson or Tim Burton’, but there was a serious glint in his eyes that made me pause. What exactly was he really asking?
When I didn’t answer, he pressed further. ‘You’ve never had a problem with me going out with other people before. Weren’t you the one who “accidentally” let slip to Marko’s mum that he’d failed his maths test, and then faked being sick so Taylor and I ended up at the movies by ourselves?’
I clamped my lips shut so I wouldn’t be tempted to tell him how much Taylor had paid me for that little scheme. Thankfully, just then, a country and western ballad blared across the oval, signalling the end of lunch, so I reached for my bag instead of answering. But he didn’t let it go.
‘Claudia’s my first proper girlfriend,’ he explained, as if I didn’t know. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows had a little furrow between them. ‘I’m not certain about what the rules are.’
Those cowardly words must have been tickling the back of my throat because my laugh came out as more of a splutter. ‘Rules? Hasn’t your mum given you that talk?’
‘I mean with you! I don’t know if it’s okay for you to come gliding with me. I don’t know if I’m allowed to invite you both to watch the Nalong–Chentyn game, or come night fishing at the lake. Or if it’s weird for us all to go to a concert together.’
That hurt. We’d always done everything together.
‘Let me make it easy for you, then, Noah. I’m not going anywhere with you. Not until you work out what you want the rules to be. I won’t tell you what to do, and neither should she!’
As I stomped back to class I knew the stress I was under was probably making me overreact, but that didn’t mean I could stop it. Even if I’d wanted to.
Harry hobbled into the kitchen on Saturday morning looking weary but satisfied. He brought with him two large water drums that weighed him down so much he limped.
‘It’s as much as I could carry, Lily. It should help for a while.’
Aunt Lily looked relieved and helped him lift the containers up onto a spare stretch of bench. Harry changed the caps for ones with taps, turned the drums onto their sides, and then poured out some water into a glass. He took a big gulp then burped noisily. Yeah, supernatural custodian of the Garden of Eden. Sure he was.
‘Thirsty, Lainie?’ he asked.
‘There are bugs floating in your drink, Harry.’
‘You look like you could use the protein, you’re a bit peaky,’ he threw back.
‘I am reluctant to ask, but why are you drinking river water? I thought you believed that all our local water was contaminated by the mining.’
‘That’s why we need it. Let’s just say that this water isn’t exactly local. It comes from a bit farther … upstream,’ he said, rubbing his shoulder to ease the strain.
As in all decent faerie tales, the elves in my aunt’s stories lived at the bottom of the garden. Or, to be more precise, the gateway to Paradise where they lived had always been located somewhere between our farm and the Ashbrees’s. The river had been the source of much magic, because it flowed out from the garden and carried wishes in the springtime. Somehow my six-year-old brain had failed to understand that the river flowed all the way through the Ashbrees’s farm as well, so it couldn’t possibly have its source between the two properties. Nor had I known enough to question how the Garden of Eden could be here when the biblical account placed it somewhere in the region that had flooded around eight thousand years ago to form the Persian Gulf.
Enough was enough. Something had to be said. ‘Are you implying that this water comes from the Garden of Eden?’
‘Yes. Yes I am. Well, as close as I could get without crossing over the boundary.’
‘So those are Eden bugs you’re drinking?’
Harry gagged mid-gulp, spraying water across the kitchen. He threw me a dirty look, but then cocked his head to one side, peering at the water critically. Aunt Lily looked startled.
‘Unlikely,’ he decided. ‘The water passes through a cave system and has plenty of time to pick up our local wildlife before it gets to where I collected it.’
Fine. I was up for a gag. I wanted to see just how far they were going to take it. ‘Are you sure you should be telling me all this? Isn’t it all a big secret? How do you know I won’t start blabbing it all over school?’ I asked with mock sincerity.
The two old friends looked at each other. ‘What exactly would you say, and to whom?’ asked Aunt Lily, sliding onto one of the kitchen chairs.
‘What if I confided in the school counsellor that I thought you were both turning into crazy bush hermits?’ Yet even as I said it, I felt a twisting heaviness in the pit of my stomach. An overwhelming feeling of shame. I felt sick with it, and I hadn’t even done anything. I honestly didn’t think I could ever get the words out of my mouth to talk about Eden. It was a relief just to stop thinking about telling someone. The feeling was completely disproportionate to the circumstances.
‘I don’t think Scott Henry would see anything unusual there.’ Harry grinned. ‘Scotty used to call me
the Nargun of Nalong back when we played footy together. He once came out of a bad tackle and said I was half human and half rock.’
The Nargun was a rock monster that kidnapped children who came too close to its cave. At least that was what Aboriginal parents used to tell their kids in order to keep them away from the forbidden site where it lived.
‘Nargun? Really? How many more folktales can you throw at me?’
Harry’s grin was gone in an instant. ‘And who are you to decide if something’s a folktale?’ he bit back. ‘Every yarn contains someone’s truth. Don’t ever disregard someone else’s perspective. You’re better than that, Lainie.’
It felt as though he’d slapped me. Harry never got angry. Ever. Except for that one time Noah and I had nicked his old model boat and lost it in the river. Even then, he’d seemed more sad than angry. I turned to Aunt Lily who looked, if anything, even more furious. That, at least, I was used to.
I lowered my eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t think. And you’re right. I’ve been ignoring your perspective on this. If you believe it, then I need to stop being so …’
‘Cynical?’ Harry offered.
‘Disrespectful,’ I said.
He poured a glass of river water, and held it out to me, challenging me to make my apology a real one. It actually looked pretty clear – no visible swimmers. I’d been drinking from the river all my life and it didn’t bother me. It was all the other implications that made me uncomfortable. Accepting the glass, I took a swig. It tasted amazing. Like home.
Many restless hours later I swallowed my prickly pride and went to find the enigmatic farmer. The sun was just thinking about drifting towards the horizon and a mob of kangaroos were busy making the most of the crepuscular grazing time at the top of the hill. Harry had just put the tractor away and was bringing a mug of coffee out to his porch to enjoy the view. I quietly joined him. It was time I found out what he really believed.
We sat comfortably for a few minutes, as we had done hundreds of times over the years, but this time my mind was spinning with awkward questions. His kind eyes held a perception that felt so ancient I had to remind myself we had only celebrated his fortieth birthday a few months earlier, but on the other hand, his athletic frame and smooth dark complexion had often caused people to mistake him for someone much younger. According to some of the gossip in the pub, he was still one of Nalong’s most eligible bachelors. Weird town.
I fiddled with a loose strand of my hair. I had a lot on my mind, but didn’t have the foggiest idea where to start. Harry, as usual, knew exactly what I needed.
He cleared his throat. ‘Your aunt told me about the photo,’ he said. ‘And that she told you about me.’ His patient voice was irritating. ‘You want to know three things. Firstly, am I immortal?’
My shoulders slumped. He did believe it.
‘Secondly, do I have any superpowers? And thirdly, am I the only one?’
Actually, I had a lot more than three questions, but I wasn’t remotely ready for even those three. Hearing him come right out and talk about it like he expected me to believe him was so disturbing that I just sat there, picking at the hole in my jeans.
‘No, I’m not immortal. I’m not entirely human, but I am supposed to be able to pass as one, so physically at least I am more or less human, and have been since the day I was born. I doubt any medical tests would be able to tell the difference, although at the rate medicine is advancing, who knows what they might uncover? Doctors have always made me … uncomfortable.’ The way he rubbed absently at his still aching shoulder made me wonder how often he had avoided getting medical attention over the years. Farm work wasn’t always kind on your body, no matter how fit you were.
He peered at me as if assessing how I was doing so far, so I nodded. I was not going to lose my temper again. Or argue, if I could avoid it. I was going to sit still and listen to him try to explain how it was all supposed to work.
He took a long swig from his coffee mug before continuing. ‘The only “superpower” I really know anything about is being able to feel when people are getting too close to the cave system. It makes me uncomfortable, and sometimes I kind of have … well, visions. I can sense where people are. It’s a kind of warning system that even wakes me if I’m asleep. I also have some occasional insights into people’s lives. Nothing very obvious or specific, just hunches. I think it helps me to persuade people to change their course of action if they get too close to finding out things they shouldn’t. Usually just changing the topic of conversation at the right time is enough.’ He leant forward in his chair. ‘There are more … back up skills available to me if I need them, but luckily I haven’t had a lot of experience with those.’ A slight shudder went through him. Whatever experience he’d apparently had, it was obviously not something he wanted to talk about because he sat back again and looked away.
Frankly, that was a bit disappointing. He should have at least been able to fly.
‘You look somewhat unimpressed,’ he observed.
‘Well, honestly, I’d hardly class those as superpowers. I mean, can’t everyone kind of do most of those things from time to time?’
He shook his head, looking almost reluctant to continue. ‘No, Lainie,’ he admitted finally, swirling the dregs of his coffee. ‘Most people can’t do what you and I can. They’re all Cherubic traits, not human ones.’
Chapter 8
My mouth opened and shut itself a couple of times as the meaning of what Harry was telling me sank in. When my voice finally obeyed me it came out sounding a bit like one of the Chipmunks. ‘You and I?’
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t had your suspicions,’ he said. ‘Things have been changing since the miners started nosing around. Their activities have been triggering something in you. Visions, at least. Am I right?’
I thought back to the dream I’d had of my aunt chained to the bulldozer. How it had been correct down to the way her bra strap had been slipping off her shoulder because her hands weren’t free to fix it. There had also been the vision I’d had of Tessa in front of the mirror. But those were hardly the only visions I’d ever had. Ever since I could remember I’d been experiencing odd, random flashes of people’s lives—especially if they were lying or being deceitful about something. Noah had told me it was just déjà vu but now Harry was implying it was something else. And I couldn’t deny that the latest visions had been much more … specific.
If in doubt, fall back on sarcasm. ‘And Aunt Lily too, I assume? Does she turn into a demon if we feed her after midnight?’
‘You aunt is a completely normal human.’
‘Now I know you’re lying,’ I said, but I knew he wasn’t. ‘Okay, so where is it?’ I laughed.
‘Near the river there’s a—’
‘No! Where’s my letter? I know Australia is a long way for an owl to fly, but they’re very late. Still, I could probably agree to repeating at least some of high school if it means I get to—’
‘Lainie, please don’t. This is serious.’
‘Not a witch then? Fine. How about a half-blood daughter of a god? Can I control any of the elements? When do we leave for training camp so I can learn how to fight? Do I get to use a sword?’
The usually unflappable farmhand was so exasperated that he buried his head in his hands.
I stretched my legs out in front of me and tried again. ‘Please tell me that I can at least hunt demons.’ I peered around the small garden to find where Aunt Lily was hiding. Surely she was ready somewhere with a camera.
‘Lainie, please, this is no game.’ He looked me right in the eye. ‘We can’t do magic spells, we can’t control the elements, and we’re not demon hunters. We’re just farmers with a sacred duty to keep humans away from the land we belong to, and we only get given the power we need in order to do our job. No more, no less, and only when we need it.’
The bleak honesty i
n his gaze was a powerful thing, and once again there was a genuine sympathy there that completely undid all my sarcastic defences—way too quickly for me to be able to adjust. He was telling the truth.
Reflexive anger took over. ‘I’m sorry, but are you trying to tell me that I’m not human?’ I stood up, clutching my empty mug like a stress ball. My temper was becoming a slippery thing to hold.
‘There is no good way to break this news to you, Lainie. I’m so sorry, but you need to know. Your soul is linked to this place. It’s an undeniable bond that will shape every choice you make from now on.’ Then he winced. ‘You won’t be able to leave.’
I slammed my mug down on the porch railing. I didn’t know the correct etiquette involved in responding to the news that I was a Cherub appointed by God as a sentinel of the Garden of Eden, but I felt fairly certain that a dramatic storming out could probably be justified, just this once. I got about four angry strides away before Harry changed the course of my life with just six easy words.
‘Can you hear the river crying?’
I stopped like I’d seen a snake and turned, desperately searching his eyes for the truth. ‘You hear that? In your sleep?’
‘I always hear it,’ he replied, staring to the northwest. His ageless brown eyes revealed a deep longing that reflected the grief of the music far too well.
‘Is it always so sad?’
He stood up and walked over to me, then took my hands in his. As soon as his calloused fingers touched mine, my head was filled with wordless song, beautiful and devastating, yearning for something lost, calling …
‘No, Lainie, it used to energise and sustain me, like a drug. I could never stay away from the river for long, but now …’
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