Fire Lines

by Cara Thurlbourn

  We take it in turns to drink from the flask, then swiftly re-enter the woods and walk for another twenty minutes or so. We no longer seem to be heading in a straight line, but without sun or stars visible above us, I have no way of judging whether we have veered east or west. Up ahead, Tsam walks beside Alyssa. Garrett is by my side, struggling almost as much as Tsam did to slow his steps.

  “You don’t have to wait for me,” I say.

  Garrett laughs and pats me on the shoulder. “I’m not waiting for you, I’m watching you.” He laughs again, amused by his own joke. “You’re precious, Émi. We can’t let you wander around by yourself.”

  The thought hadn’t even occurred to me – that they’re here to make sure I’m protected. I understand what they’ve told me. I understand who I am. But it doesn’t feel real. I laugh too but it comes out wrong, like I’m trying too hard. Garrett doesn’t seem to notice.

  “She’s not always this spiky,” he says, cocking his chin in Alyssa’s direction, “but bringing you home to Abilene – it’s big. Incredible, really. The biggest thing since… Well, since they hid you in Nhatu in the first place. We have a lot to prove, us three.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask.

  “Until the Ceremony we’re technically still Fledglings. The Elders wanted to send Watchers for you. People with more experience. But…”

  “So why didn’t they?” I interrupt.

  “Tsam persuaded them. He didn’t want you to find out from a stranger about…” Garrett blushes, clearly unsure how to phrase the next part. “About who you are.”

  As Garrett continues to talk, the trees part to reveal a narrow river that curves sharply out of sight. The clarity of the water startles me. Once again, I feel like I must be dreaming. We follow the river around its snake-like bend until the rocky banks peter out, replaced by tall willowy grasses. Up ahead, on an earthy patch of ground between the water and the trees, someone has lit a campfire.

  Garrett squeezes my arm. “I’ll get some water on. You look like you could use something to eat.”

  He rummages in a bulging backpack propped against a nearby tree trunk and takes out a small wooden disc. He gives it a firm shake and it concertinas out into the shape of a bucket that he takes down to the water and fills to the brim. When he returns, he places the bucket right in the heart of the fire. I wait for it to blacken or start to burn, but it doesn’t.

  Tsam and Alyssa have disappeared, so when Garrett flops down next to the fire and prods it with a stick, I join him.

  “This must be a bit overwhelming?” he says, waving his lithe fingers at our surroundings.

  “You could say that.” I know I’m being curt with him but I can’t help it. Under different circumstances – if Garrett had been a boy from school or a friendly customer at The Emerald – I’m sure I’d have warmed to him, appreciated his openness and easy chatter. But as he smiles at me, clearly expecting me to elaborate on how I’m feeling, I can’t find the words. Not yet. Not now.

  Alyssa saves me from her brother’s kindness by emerging from the trees with a small leather pack. She hands it to me. “There are some clothes and boots in here. Supplies, too. It’s yours now, don’t lose it.”

  “Where’s Tsam?” I ask.

  “Scouting,” she replies. She glances between the trees. “There’s a spot over there where you can change.”

  I thank her and take my pack into the wood.

  Back under cover, I inhale deeply and close my eyes. I try to take slow, meaningful breaths but my thoughts keep returning to the wall. My mind conjures wicked visions of what the Cadets might be doing to my mother, to Nor and to Hedge. Even Amin.

  The visions threaten to overwhelm me, to suck me down into a spiral of darkness. My temples throb. With all the strength I can muster, I snap open my eyes and shake the pictures away.

  Inside the pack I find a pair of jodhpurs, a vest and a jacket. I unbutton my tunic and allow it to puddle around my feet. Then I look down at the scarlet sash that pinches the flesh of my upper arm. The sash I never take off. The sash that, even when I sleep, must stay in place. In the shade of the wood, it looks like a gaping wound against my translucent skin. I pull on the jodhpurs and the vest.

  Then I start to pick at the sash.

  Gently, at first, as if I should be afraid of tearing it. But, when the knot refuses to loosen, I start to tug and pull. It continues to defy me. I become breathless, frantic, desperate to be free of it. I’ve almost given up when a voice calls out behind me:

  “Here, let me help.”

  Alyssa.

  She takes a delicate blade from her belt. “Keep still.”

  I watch as she tucks the point of the knife under the sash. Then, with a single flick of the wrist it floats to the ground. I stare at it. It is nothing more than a scrap of fabric that will rot amongst the leaves and the worms.

  “Alright now?” Alyssa asks.

  “Thank you.”

  It’s the only reply I can manage.

  When we return to the campfire, Tsam is sitting beside Garrett with his legs stretched out in front of him and he leans the weight of his body back on his hands. Garrett sprinkles the contents of a small hessian bag into the bucket of simmering water. He turns at the sound of our approach.

  “Grub’s up in ten,” he says.

  Tsam pats the ground beside him and I sit down.

  “Better?” he asks.

  “Yes, thank you.” My heart still hurts, but at least my clothes are a little fresher.

  Alyssa doesn’t mention the sash. “Anyone know where Kole is?” she asks.

  Garrett and Tsam shake their heads.

  “Kole?” I ask.

  Alyssa’s tone sharpens. “A Taman. The Elders said it was necessary for him to accompany us. Valuable skill set, apparently.”

  “He’s not so bad,” says Tsam. “A little frosty, but he’s one of the best fighters in Tarynne.”

  Garrett nods, enthusiastically. “We saw him once at a display. Remember, Lyss? We were there for Da’s birthday? He’s the youngest Taman ever to reach Top Tier. He was incredible.”

  “You sound like a Tamanyte,” says Alyssa, and I can tell from her tone that she’s not paying her brother a compliment.

  Tsam laughs loudly and thumps Garrett on the shoulder. “We’ll see if we can get a sketch of him for your wall. Émi’s great at sketching. Perhaps she can do one for you?”

  Garrett scrunches his face and turns huffily back to the fire as Tsam and Alyssa chuckle at him.

  “Tamanyte?” I know ‘Taman’ are elephant riders but I’ve never heard of ‘Tamanyte’ before.

  Tsam laughs. “That’s what they call the little doe-eyed Fledglings who swoon after the Taman. Kole is a real favourite of theirs.”

  I can’t help laughing and the sound surprises me. “Well,” I say, “if Kole ever shows up I’ll ask him to flex his muscles and pose for me.”

  Alyssa laughs when I say this, and so does Tsam. I feel pleased with myself because I’d forgotten that I can be witty. But then I realise they are looking past me at something else, or someone else. I turn and my mouth gapes.

  “Kole,” Alyssa says. “This is Émi…”

  Nine

  Kole is at least six feet tall. If I’d encountered him without first knowing he was part of our group, I would probably have assumed he was here to assassinate me. With broad shoulders and thick arms, he strides forward and bows.

  At first I think he is wearing a mask, but as he draws closer I realise it’s a deep purple, butterfly-shaped birthmark that covers his eyes, part of his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

  “Émi,” he says, nothing more. Just my name, as though it’s a greeting. I shrink back. I trusted Alyssa and Garrett without question, but there’s something about Kole that makes me nervous.

  The Taman doesn’t sit with us. He takes a cup, a smaller version of the concertina bucket, and scoops himself a portion of whatever it is Garrett’s cooking, then he carries it to a boulder ne
ar the river, where he sits cross-legged facing the sun.

  The sprinkles Garrett added to the water have created a thick-scented soup. I take a bowl and sip, blowing at the surface to help it cool. Its taste is utterly foreign; not a single flavour I can put a name to. I drink it down, all of it, then run my index finger around the inside of the cup. When I look up, Tsam is watching me.

  I drink three cups of soup and then, my belly bloated, I lean back and sigh. Looking at my bloodied feet, Tsam tells me I should bathe them before putting my boots on, so I follow him to the river. He instructs me to sit on a flattish rock, a few metres away from Kole. I do as I’m told but, when Tsam offers to help me, I tell him I’d rather do it myself.

  “Alright,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. He glances over at the campfire. “I’ll wait with the others.”

  I wash my feet slowly. I dangle them in the water and let them be soothed, then I roll up my jodhpurs and splash my legs. The water stings, but at least it will clean the scratches. From his nearby boulder, Kole inclines his head in my direction. It’s impossible to tell whether he is watching me. From this distance, his dark eyes melt into his birthmark.

  Slowly, he climbs down and wades into the shallow part of the river. He makes his way towards me. I stop my splashing. That twinge of uncertainty is back, hovering around my head, whispering: be cautious, be safe.

  Kole reaches into a leather purse on the side of his belt. My muscles tense. Now he’s closer, I can see his eyes. They flicker and I wonder whether he knows that I don’t trust him. He holds out his hand, offering me a clutch of purple leaves.

  “Crush them,” he says. “Rub them into the wounds.”

  I thank him and take the leaves, but when his back is turned, I slip them into my pocket.

  Returning to the fire, I strap my feet into the walking boots. Garrett joins me and nods approvingly at them.

  “What happens now?” I ask him.

  Garrett scratches his forehead and beckons for the others to join us. We gather in a semi-circle as Tsam kneels to spread out on the ground a detailed map of The Four Cities. I eat up every detail; it’s mesmerising. There is Abilene, surrounded by trees with the lake at its centre, Esyllt, on the west coast, Tarynne, with its curved rocky structure that hugs the elephants’ watering hole. And Nhatu. Square. Encased in flint.

  “The Council destroyed any maps like this,” I say. “The new ones just show Nhatu, surrounded by wasteland.” I move a little closer to the map and my skin prickles. “I never realised how close we were to the Islands. The Council talks of them, but makes them seem so distant.”

  “This is us.” Tsam jabs a finger to a spot somewhere in the southern region of the Alder Woods. “And we’re heading this way… east.”

  I tilt my head to take in the details.

  “We need to reach the edge of the woods, then we can fly.”

  “We can’t fly from here?” I ask.

  “The Sentries on the wall watch the woods day and night. They’d spot us straight away if we took off from here.”

  “Is that a bad thing? If they saw you, word would spread. People would realise the Council have been lying.”

  Tsam rubs his temples. “The Elders said we weren’t to be seen. They didn’t explain why but I’d guess it’s something to do with the treaty—”

  Alyssa cuts him off. “It’s not our place to ask why. We’re given orders. We stick to them.”

  In the woods, when she helped free me from the Red Quarter sash, Alyssa was kind, maybe even a little soft. But now she is back to being the girl on the wall. The girl who said my mother was dispensable.

  I don’t dare ask about the treaty so I scrape the ground with my index finger and ask, “How long? Until we’re back in Abilene?”

  “A day trekking through the woods, then one more once we’re out in the open,” says Tsam. “We’ve two horses waiting by the river. One for Kole and one for you. We’ll fly and you two will ride.”

  A little too quickly I say, “I can’t fly with you?”

  Tsam studies my face. “Maybe—”

  “No,” Alyssa interrupts, “you can’t. It’s too difficult. The extra weight. It’s not a problem over short distances but this is too far and we need our energy in case…”

  “In case, what?” I ask.

  “Just in case.”

  As our scrutiny of the map draws to a close, so does the day. The sun disappears behind the tree line on the opposite bank and the Watchers stoke up the fire. Kole takes the first lookout, positioning himself between the trees and the river, arms folded. Garrett and Tsam grin at one another and spread out on one side of the fire. Garrett takes a small pouch out of his pack and empties the contents onto the ground – a collection of pebbles, all different shapes and sizes with swirly symbols etched into their surfaces. He and Tsam take three each and set out the rest in the shape of a multi-pronged star. I can’t interpret the rules of the game; it is too fast. They exchange pebbles, balance them on top of one another, swap, take, line up – it’s dizzying. Beside me, Alyssa says, “They’ve been playing it since they were youngsters. I’ve tried, but I’m hopeless.”

  The game lasts no more than ten minutes. Garrett suddenly whoops and beats his fist on the ground, which I assume means he’s won. His outburst causes Alyssa to shush him, though the corner of her mouth curls in a reluctant smile. Garrett rolls his eyes but stashes the pebbles back in their pouch. Then he lies on the ground, arms folded across his chest, and releases an exaggerated yawn. Tsam gives the fire one last prod then follows suit, by which time Alyssa too is closing her eyes and wrapping her wings around herself.

  They are so comfortable, the three of them; at ease in their own skins. They know their history, their roles, where they’re from, where they’re going. But me? I am disjointed. I feel like they all expect me to be something I don’t know how to be. I’ve become hyper-aware of my thoughts, my movements, my actions. Now, as I watch them all slide into slumber, I’m left with the thoughts in my head, looping back in time to examine my life from new angles.

  I scroll through the memories faster and faster, searching for clues in the way my parents looked or spoke to me, scrambling to pin down feelings that might have told me who I really was. Did I ever feel as though part of me was missing? Did I feel different? Did I always know the sparks were inside me?

  The answer to every question is ‘no’. I always felt normal. My life was… normal.

  I release a frustrated sigh and roll over to face the fire. The weight of the last few days is beginning to drag down on my eyelids and the effort to make sense of everything is giving me a vicious headache. I shift a little closer to the fire. The flames are flickering and cracking, dancing, glowing orange, and white… and…

  I wake suddenly, panting. Adrenaline makes the blood pound in my ears, my heart judders violently against my chest. Despite myself, I must have fallen asleep. I look at the spot where Kole was sitting but he has been replaced by Tsam. He waves at me through the dark when he sees me sitting up and when I join him he drapes his left wing around my shoulders. His feathers are like silk.

  “Bad dream?” he asks.

  “Mmm,” I reply. Then, because the night makes it easier to be honest, I say, “I think I see her sometimes. Ava…”

  Tsam doesn’t say anything, but he must have guessed because he saw my drawings.

  “I never knew it was her. She was just there,” I whisper.

  “What does she do? In your dreams?”

  “She stares at me. Sometimes she holds my hand, asks me to go with her. Sometimes it’s like we’re children, laughing, playing…”

  “Tonight?”

  I pull my jacket closer. “Tonight wasn’t like the others. There were shapes that I couldn’t see properly – shadows. I was running. She was there but I couldn’t see her face. It was blurry, like a painting that was never finished.” I shudder. “And we were scared.”

  Tsam’s expression is unreadable; if he’s unnerved, he
’s not showing it.

  “Do you think it means something?” I ask him.

  He turns and looks at me. “I think it means that you’ve been through a lot. Your mind is just trying to make sense of it all.” His wing curls a little tighter around my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Émi. We won’t let anything happen to you.” He reaches out and turns my face to him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Ten

  The group begins to stir long before the sun comes up. Garrett makes more soup but there is an air of urgency this morning. There is no sitting by the fire or bathing feet in the river. As soon as the soup is gone, Kole extinguishes the flames and sets about destroying all traces of our presence. He carries the biggest pack, swung onto his shoulders as though it’s weightless. The Watchers and I carry smaller ones, across our chests instead of our backs, and Alyssa hands me a knife similar to hers to tuck into my belt. Tsam looks at her questioningly but Alyssa simply says, “It’s foolish for her not to be armed.”

  And then we are back in the woods.

  It doesn’t take much walking for us to come across vines and branches that are much thicker and more entwined than yesterday. No longer able to part them, we are forced to climb over and under them, and make lengthy detours around them. Despite this, I feel more confident in my boots and my jacket. I rub at my arm – at the place where the deep pink groove left by three years with the red sash is beginning to fade – and think of Nor’s last words to me before I left.

  Find your sister, and when Mahg’s dead in his grave… then you can come back for us.

  I raise my hand to the necklace she gave me, brush my fingers across the delicate wings.

  I will, I tell her, I’ll come back for you all.

  We’ve been walking for an hour or so when the ground begins to squelch under our feet and it’s not long before we are submerged up to our knees in brown swamp water. The tips of the Watchers’ wings trail on the surface, their pristine feathers turning the colour of dishwater, and I struggle to drag my already-tired legs through the sludge. Kole, however, strides ahead, parting the water with ease.