Land Beyond Summer
Page 6
First of all, she realized the visual anomaly she’d just experienced had to do with her eyes adjusting to their new strength. Despite all the miracles that had occurred, the hill wasn’t really moving. Tentatively, she turned her head and took another look at the yellow side of the mountain. It was fine now. Except that it did seem bigger somehow. From where she was sitting, she couldn’t see an end to the yellow on either side.
The question was: what to do next? Before they were attacked by the mysterious cloud — for she had no doubt that it had been a purposeful phenomenon just as the destruction of Mrs. Norse’s letter had been no accident — they had decided to go visit the lady who had brought them here. But by bad luck, Fay was not in the right location. The last she had seen of her brother, he was going down the red section, the correct section.
She decided it was time to keep calm by talking things over with herself. “You need to get to the red section where Mrs. Norse is,” she told herself and the universe at large. It was reasonable to assume that Clive would head for the house; but since when did reason have anything to do with a brother’s actions? He might even now be trying to find her, a far more impossible task than doing Mrs. Norse’s bidding. There was no avoiding the troublesome matter of reunion. An obvious first step had to be taken. She stood up, faced the hill and called out Clive’s name as loudly as she could, waiting about thirty seconds between shouts. After five tries, with not even an echo to keep her company, she had to give up before she lost her voice.
Next she marched straight up to the hill with a plan to follow it around until she reached the end of this section of forest. Even if the hill seemed bigger, it would only take so long to get where she was going. She was sorry she’d left her Batman watch at home. Suddenly she laughed, as she remembered the absence of the sun. Here she was thinking about seconds and minutes and hours in a world that had no way of measuring time! She wondered if Clive had brought his watch. She hadn’t noticed when they were on the hill.
At any rate, she had more serious problems to worry about, such as deciding whether she should go to the right or the left. She tried to remember how the colors had been laid out. It had been green, yellow, red and white. Choose the correct direction and the very next section of woods would be the right one.
She started following the edge of the hill, moving to her left. “That’s a bad choice,” whispered a soft voice from behind. She whirled around, but didn’t see anyone. “I’m down here,” the voice spoke again.
Lowering her eyes, just a bit nervously it must be admitted, she saw a familiar face licking a paw, and rubbing its head. It was Kitnip! For the first time in her life, Fay had absolutely nothing to say.
“You were thinking of trying to get to Mrs. Norse’s woods that way, weren’t you?” The cat was infernally calm.
Fay used all her will power and produced one hesitant word: “Kitnip?”
“I never liked that name. Made me sound like a drug addict, just waiting for my next whiff of the old catnip. Or else the name made me sound too cute for words.”
“But how…?”
“You want to know how I’m here. Fair enough, but there’s no time for that now, except to say that if Wolf and I hadn’t been rescued shortly after you left, we’d be in that great pound in the sky by now.”
“But how…?”
“If you weren’t such a smart girl, I’d think you’re repeating yourself. But we know better, don’t we? This time, you want to know how it is that I talk.”
“Yes.”
“No time for that either. Sorry.” Whereupon Kitnip had the nerve to rub up against her leg and purr. “Now let’s go, but not to Autumn. Since we’re already in Spring, our best choice is to make for the Hive. We must get there as soon as possible.”
“While it’s still daylight?””
“I have the distinct impression that there’s no night here, but I suppose I could be wrong.”
Fay had to admit the cat seemed to recognize the implications of their environment better than she did. She would like to have discussed the matter but Kitnip had other ideas. When a cat decides to really move, it is a challenge to keep up. In addition, Fay was exhausted from everything that had happened to her in one day. Kitnip darted off into the woods so quickly that Fay was lost before she started. “Kitnip,” she cried out. “Don’t leave me.”
Just as quickly as she had disappeared, Kitnip was back, standing on a tree stump, her tail forming a curlicue, like a question mark. The cat turned her head sideways as she said, “Sorry. You can’t help it that you’re physically challenged, what with only having two legs.”
“Please don’t rub it in. How much time do we have, assuming there is such a thing as time here. I don’t see how you’d measure it.”
“You humans make up a way of telling time no matter where you are, so don’t worry about it. There are two conditions: moving forward and standing still. Let’s get moving.”
“It’s just that I’m so tired,” Fay admitted reluctantly. “If I could only rest…”
The cat purred — or was it a hmmmmmm? — before she relented: “We can let you take a nap, but only for what you’d call an hour. You know, the way you’ve been acting lately, I’m worried you’re narcoleptic or something.”
Moving with great deliberation, Kitnip led Fay to a stand of pine trees. Fay had always loved their smell, and these were very large and beautiful. Underfoot it became thick with pine needles, and there were only a few pine cones to be kicked out of the way. She approved of Kitnip’s choice of bed for her.
“I’ll feel better after just a little bit,” said Fay, lying down on the soft pine needles, enjoying the feel of the hard ground underneath. In one day she would have gone to sleep outdoors twice, once with Wolf as her companion and now with Kitnip. But was she really in the same day, or wasn’t that a universe ago? She didn’t want to think about it.
Wondering idly how Kitnip had arrived (surely a cat didn’t receive mail), the last thing she saw was a patch of blue sky overhead, with limbs of the trees gently swaying against it; and the pine cones high up were black dots like so many eyes gazing down. ***
Clive landed dead center in a pile of autumn leaves that probably saved him from serious injury. He didn’t feel very grateful, perhaps because there was something else in the leaves, something under him that started reaching up, under his pants leg, with spidery, cold fingers.
Yelping, Clive bolted out of the leaves and started running. He didn’t really want to know what was behind him, but boys will be boys. Stealing a glance inspired him to run all the harder.
The pursuer was four feet high and seemed to be made out of both vegetable and metal parts. The head had the appearance of a crazy jack-‘o-lantern. The eyes were black holes, but something red swum inside. The mouth had teeth. The whole body moved like a machine with three legs, the middle one pushing over and over again like a piston. And the absolute worst thing about it was that it called out Clive’s name in a screaming falsetto.
Clive had seen more than enough. There was nothing else to do but concentrate on serious running. He was going so fast that he didn’t notice the second one until he’d tripped over it. This one was only three feet tall, but it was bigger because it was longer. It had eight legs, like a spider, and they were all metal, but the main part of the body seemed to be made of the same vegetable substance as the other one’s head. There was one stalk growing out of the center, and at its tip blinked an eye, which took this opportunity to slowly swivel around and consider one frightened human being.
This time Clive didn’t feel like he was running; he was flying. He had to get away from these monsters! Every sound he heard conjured up images of even more terrible things coming from behind. Maybe they didn’t climb trees, he thought. Maybe he should get off the ground. There was a big oak just up ahead, and it had a limb low down over the ground, in easy reaching distance which he grabbed without losing his stride. He hoisted himself into the air.
Unfor
tunately, he wasn’t holding on to a part of the tree. Instead, another of the creatures was holding on to him. It was elongated like a snake and didn’t seem to have any metal parts. It was all of one color, and was so dark that one didn’t recognize the shade as a kind of orange until one was right up against it. The way Clive was right now!
Falling to the ground, with the thing coiling around his body, Clive had the air knocked out of him. He was too stunned to do much about it but look up dazedly at the head of the monster peering into his eyes. There was a human face, but all shriveled and withered, like a shrunken head.
When he heard the rustling of leaves behind him, he assumed it was more of them coming to finish him off. He wondered what it would be like to die. His only regret was that he wouldn’t be around to help Fay find their real Mom and Dad. He was very sorry about that. He even felt sorry for his father for the first time since the beating. If Clive were about to die, he wanted to forgive his old man while there was still time.
Suddenly, there was a loud barking just behind his head. The thing holding him unwrapped itself and slithered away. As he started to get up, he saw another of the creatures moving off to the side. There were a half dozen of them. The sight of the spider one literally running up a tree made him sick to his stomach.
The barking repeated itself, louder and closer than before. The last of the creatures scurried out of sight. Clive couldn’t believe his ears, so he trusted to sight instead.
Sure enough, Wolf was standing next to him, guarding Clive with a ferocity he’d never seen in the dog before. With one last growl, Wolf ignored the enemy, and raised his head to look Clive square in the face.
“I got here just in time,” said the dog.
“It’s you, boy, but how can you talk?”
“I’ve always talked, you just never understood before. And I don’t like being called ‘boy’ anymore than you do.”
Clive didn’t know what surprised him more — that his dog talked, or that he had an attitude. “But how did you get here?” he asked.
“I couldn’t begin to explain, but I know what we have to do. We’ve got to reach the house before this invasion is over. Come on.” And with that, the dog started running; but he had gone less than one yard, before he stopped and looked back, to make sure that Clive was following.
Clive didn’t feel very well after what he’d gone through, but he could sense the urgency and forced himself to run hard, ignoring the pain. He was amazed about many things, not least of which was that the monsters seemed to be afraid of his dog. This knowledge gave him confidence to carry on. He was glad for Wolf’s consideration, when suddenly the dog disappeared behind a mound of earth, covered in moss. For a brief instant of alarm, Clive sympathized with all the times he’d deliberately lost Fay when she was following him in the woods. Little sisters will follow big brothers, no matter how annoying that might be.
He debated with himself over whether or not he should call out Wolf’s name — he laughed out loud when he realized that if Wolf said his own name it would sound like: “Woof”! Suddenly the decision was taken out of his hands. The dog returned, heading straight for him.
“Hide,” Wolf commanded. After the bravery the dog had shown, this could be no idle advice. Something really dangerous must be moving in their direction.
The two of them went behind the bole of a huge tree (it looked like a redwood) when the subject of Wolf’s consternation strode into the small clearing. It was Malak, the Dour One. It was Grandfather.
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Copyright © 1996 by Brad Linaweaver. All rights reserved.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DOUR SENDINGS
Fay woke up. She had been having a lovely dream about her family at the seashore. This was the first pleasant dream she’d had in months. But when she awakened, it was to another nightmare.
It was the same view of the pine trees waving gently against the blue sky, only something new had been added. At first she thought she was looking at the moon, but it was a face intruding into her halcyon dream of peace. Or could it really be called a face, when it was a pure white human skull? As it turned slightly, she saw an envelope of nearly transparent flesh around it, the clear, jelly-like substance that glistens on a jellyfish. A moment later, the whole body came into view and Fay did the only reasonable thing.
She screamed. Then she screamed again. The figure ran away, and she heard Kitnip’s voice scolding her: “You scared him away.”
“I scared him?” she asked incredulously. Then she completely forgot herself, and where she was, and with whom she was dealing. She blurted out: “You let that creature sneak up on me!”
“Calm down,” purred Kitnip. “I should have warned you about their appearances, but it just so happens that Tabriks are friends. They live in the glass hive.”
Fay screwed up her face, the way she always did when she was worrying. Kitnip could hardly believe how nasty her friend was becoming, especially when Fay launched into a tirade: “So now you’re telling me that I’m to blame if we have problems with these bone people, or whatever they are. How could I possibly know…”
“Humans,” commented Kitnip with a weariness that could only come from having experienced the subject of her displeasure for more than one lifetime (say about nine times at least). “You simply must calm down or I’ll leave.”
Now that was a surprise. She didn’t have the slightest idea how the cat had come to be here, but she just naturally assumed they would have the same purposes. As far as dealing with an animal, she had always prided herself on treating her pets with respect. But it was a very different matter when another mind suddenly came into the picture; and in such an unlikely package, too!
Fay was mad. She wanted to tell Kitnip to go live with the Tabriks if that’s the way she felt about it. But Fay didn’t need a lesson more than once, in which respect she was different from her brother. In her most formal tone she gravely addressed her former pet: “I believe I owe you an apology.”
Kitnip rubbed up against her leg and purred. She might suddenly be another person with an active mind; but she was still a cat as well. Fay relaxed, and started scratching the cat on the head, and gently crushing the ears the way she liked.
“All right then” said the cat. “We need to be moving on. I’m sure we can find the Tabriks before there’s trouble. Now there’s one thing about being courteous to Tabriks, besides not screaming when you see one. No human being can possibly pronounce their personal names, so it’s better you don’t even try. I found that out when I first arrived.”
“Can you do it?” asked Fay.
“No. Mrs. Norse brought me down in the middle of a party she was having for some of them and I didn’t have a mouse’s chance of making a good impression. But enough chatter. Let’s go!”
Whether Fay was rested or not, there was to be no more delay. In a place where the creature she had just seen wasn’t to be feared, she hated to think what something really scary might be like. Besides, she really did feel better after her nap.
“Before we go any further, we need to take something along for our protection,” said the cat. “You need to collect those pine cones.”
Now this was a strange request! There were about half a dozen of the cones scattered about, considerably less than might have expected from so many trees. Fay was learning not to question her unexpected benefactor — at least not all at once. Still, there was a practical difficulty.
“I hate to bring this up, Kitnip, but I don’t have anything to carry them in. I left my knapsack at home.”
“Yeah, I remember. It’s the red one made of Goretex. I guess you’ll have to take your top off and make a bag to carry them in.”
The funny thing wa
sn’t that Fay felt a sudden hesitation, down deep in her stomach, but that she could be embarrassed in front of Kitnip. They were just girls here. Her cat had seen her with no clothes on plenty of times. She used to take Kitnip into the bathroom with her when she would take a bath and the cat would get on the closed toilet seat and peer over into the water. When using bubble bath, it was especially funny because the cat would make batting motions at the bubbles, and when the suds would get on her paw, she’d hold it up in front of her, as if inspecting a trophy.
But it was one thing to have no modesty with a pet that Fay could view as hers, and quite another thing with a brand new person. Kitnip wasn’t hers anymore. Then again, cat people were always saying how easily they accepted the idea that nobody owns a cat. The quickest way to test that proposition would be to have their pets express an opinion!
This was getting nowhere fast. Why shouldn’t she take off her top? It was a warm day. Mother had tried to teach Fay to be modest about wearing tops back when her chest was completely flat, and she couldn’t see why she couldn’t have the same freedom outdoors that Clive had. When the first small bumps came, she realized that Mom had wanted her to practice. This was apparently what women did. They practiced a lot.
Well, this was a different world, and maybe it had different rules. She’d already stopped thinking it might be Hell. But there was plenty of proof that it wasn’t Heaven either. Maybe all worlds you could travel to, in your own body, were mixtures of good and bad.
“OK,” she said, and removed the top, noticing only for the briefest moment the current status of her small breasts. At least they were starting to be something. They reminded her of the pointy tips of inverted ice cream cones. That’s what Uncle Celko called them anyway. She thought of them more as little Hershey kisses. She hoped that one day they would be as full and round as Mom’s.
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why we need pine cones,” she said a bit sarcastically as she began to gather them.