Fire Lines

by Cara Thurlbourn

She straightens herself. “Where are they? Did you see? Where did they go?”

  Garrett shakes his head. Ava still isn’t speaking. Then I hear something.

  “Shush,” I tell the others, holding up a hand.

  There it is again.

  I follow the sound, wading through the snow, and when I see them I don’t even try to hold back my tears. They are staggering towards us, holding each other up. I can’t get to them quick enough and, when I do, I don’t know who to check first. My fingers flutter over Kole’s arm but he steps away as Tsam hugs me to him.

  “You’re alright?” I ask.

  “I’m alright,” he says. “A bit battered, but alive.”

  Kole is rubbing his thigh. Something has sliced an angry gaping wound across it but we have no medical supplies – they were in his pack.

  “On the bright side,” says Garrett, puncturing our panic, “we’ve reached the bottom quicker than we expected.” He pauses and looks around, unsure whether he’s overstepped the mark, whether it’s too soon for jokes, but Tsam thumps him on the shoulder and grins. “Always find the silver lining, don’t you?”

  They hug and all five of us laugh, not heartily, but with the exhilaration of having nearly died and managing not to.

  There is no time to rest, and no way the Watchers can carry us any further, so we begin to trudge in the direction of the foothills, hoping to reach the horses by nightfall. Just as the sun is beginning to dip under the horizon, we see the tree where we left them. Except, they’re not there. Tsam checks his compass and tells us this was definitely the spot, but they must have wandered off, and any elation we felt at surviving the avalanche quickly fades with the knowledge that our trek back to Tarynne will take twice as long without them.

  Alyssa and I gather firewood, while Kole and Tsam rest, and Garrett fusses around Ava. She is still silent, staring into the distance as if she’s vanished from herself.

  We having nothing to eat, just water and a handful of oats Garrett had been storing in his pocket. We have no medicine either, and the gash on Kole’s leg is beginning to worry me. Noticing me looking at it, he beckons me over and asks if I’ll help him dress it.

  “There are some dark green weeds by the stream,” he says. “They’re not as strong as lilac weed but they’re from the same family.”

  I nod. “I’ll fetch them, wait there.”

  When I return, Kole has torn two pieces of fabric from his cloak. I soak one piece with water from the fire and use it to clean the wound. Then I crush the green weeds as best I can and smear them onto his skin, binding them with the second piece of cloth.

  “Thank you,” he says, meeting my eyes and keeping them a little longer than usual.

  When I return to the others, I realise Tsam has been watching me and it makes me blush. Feeling guilty, and not sure why, I ask him if he needs any cuts attending to. He tells me he’s alright, but gestures to Ava.

  “I’m not sure she is, though. She hasn’t said a word since—”

  “Since she nearly killed us,” Alyssa finishes for him.

  Garrett looks over then, from his spot next to Ava, and strides across to us. He crouches down in front of Alyssa and takes her hands in his.

  “Now, you listen to me, Alyssa Minik. What you did – throwing away her things. It wasn’t right.”

  Alyssa flinches.

  “It was unkind, and unnecessary and you nearly got us all killed.”

  There’s a sharp intake of breath from Alyssa and her eyes burn. “Me?”

  “Yes. You. She’s different from what we expected, but perhaps we could try and have a little empathy.” He’s looking at me now. “Émi, your life in Nhatu wasn’t easy but at least you had people. Ava had no one up there. We don’t know how long Søyen’s been dead. She could have been alone for years.”

  “You don’t know that,” says Alyssa.

  “No,” says Garrett, “but I know it’s not my place to judge her because she’s different from us.” Then he stands up. “You need to apologise to her, Alyssa.” And he walks away.

  When we settle down for the night, Ava is the first to fall asleep but I’m not far behind her. I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping, or how close to morning it is, when her scream wakes me. She is crouched with her knees tucked under her chin, rocking backwards and forwards. Garrett is trying to get her to look at him, but she keeps pushing him away, so I try. “Ava,” I say, gently, stroking the only bit of skin on her arm that isn’t covered by either glove or tunic. “It’s alright. We’re all okay. No one was hurt.”

  When I say that, she lifts her head, tears streaming down her thin cheeks. She pulls me close, with such urgency that I almost topple over.

  “He tried to kill me,” she whispers, looking past me at Tsam. “He doesn’t want me here. He hates me. He thinks I’m dangerous.”

  “Ava, what do you mean? What happened?”

  Gripping my arm, she hisses. “He tried to kill me. Smother me in my sleep.”

  I look back at Tsam, who shakes his head at me, eyes wide and alarmed.

  “Ava,” I say, “Tsam wouldn’t hurt you, he’s our friend. You must have had a bad dream.”

  Quivering, Ava looks down at her hands, then at Tsam, then me. I sit down beside her and let her rest her head on my shoulder, patting her oily hair.

  “Shhhh now,” I tell her. “No one’s going to hurt you. We’re here to look after you.”

  Ava stiffens, then lets out a sob, and collapses into me. I hold her, whispering shhhh, it’s alright and humming the melody Ma used to hum when I was small and unwell. It seems to soothe her and, eventually, she curls back into sleep. Afraid to move for fear of waking her, I beckon Tsam over and he crouches beside me.

  “Ém,” he whispers, “I have no idea…”

  “It’s fine,” I say, shaking my head because it’s ridiculous that he’d think for even one second I’d believe he would hurt Ava. “I just think we need to be careful with her. Gentle, like Garrett said.”

  Tsam nods, squeezes my arm, then retreats before Ava wakes.

  Twenty

  The next morning, Alyssa’s embarrassment at being told off by her brother still burns in her face.

  “I’ve never seen him like that,” I say to her, as we stomp out the fire and drink the last of our water.

  She lowers her head. “He’s right. I shouldn’t have done that. The way she was last night. She’s fragile.”

  I nod.

  “Something must have happened to her to make her like this,” says Alyssa.

  “Maybe the things in her pack were all she had of her father’s,” I offer, thinking of the notebook that I still carry.

  Alyssa nods and I watch from a distance as she goes to apologise to Ava. Then it’s time to leave.

  Back when we were travelling with the horses, we crossed the plains between Tarynne and the mountains in no more than ten hours. But without them our journey takes much longer, and we are forced to continue walking into the night. There is nowhere to shelter and once the sun dips below the horizon, it turns bitterly cold.

  Ava is huddled at the back of the group beside Garrett, shivering despite the fact that she should be more used to the cold. She worries endlessly with the scarf at her face – patting it, pulling it and retying it. And she won’t look at Tsam. When he speaks, she turns away as if she can’t bear to be reminded he exists. Tsam takes this deeply personally. I tell him she’s just confused but I can see that my words don’t help.

  Kole is struggling too. My nursing has done little to fix his wounded leg and he is limping badly. It is strange to see him injured. He looks vulnerable. I haven’t forgotten the unease I felt when we first met, but when he stumbles and I catch him, allowing him to lean on my shoulder, I feel the tension shrink.

  We have been walking through the plains without a rest for almost two whole days, when we reach a collection of rocky caves and decide to stop. The caves obscure our view of the horizon but the sky above is heavy and grey. It look
s as though a rainstorm is brewing but Kole says that’s impossible – this is the dry season. We peer up at the sky, shielding our eyes. The darkness is unnatural, and we still can’t agree what is causing it, so Garrett offers to fly ahead and find out.

  At first, his movements are slow, leisurely almost. Then, he turns back. He seems to be flying more quickly now and I exchange a worried glance with Alyssa. Within moments, Garrett is hurtling towards the ground beside us.

  Alyssa grabs my arm. “He’s coming down too fast.”

  We move to catch him but Garrett tumbles, rolling over and over and wrapping himself in his wings to shield his body from the jagged ground.

  Alyssa stoops over him. “What happened? Are you alright?” She checks him frantically from head to toe, looking for wounds, but he sits up and takes hold of her arms. “I’m fine, Lyss.” Then he looks at Kole.

  Kole’s eyes flicker from Garrett up towards the horizon and back again. I watch him take a deep breath and straighten his shoulders.

  “Kole, I’m sorry.” Garrett shakes his head.

  “What have you seen?”

  “It’s smoke… so much smoke. I think Tarynne is burning.”

  Kole wavers for a moment, then starts running. I call after him and when he doesn’t reply I follow him. Ava shouts at me to wait but I ignore her. Beyond the caves, the entire skyline has turned black and the milky limestone of the Second City is barely visible. Kole stands, feet apart, hands stretched out, his palms pressed together as if he is praying. As I approach, he buckles onto the ground. I kneel beside him and slip an arm around his shoulders. I want to tell him that it might not be as bad as it looks but there is so much smoke, more than there was in Abilene, much more.

  Kole leans in to me, almost imperceptibly, but when we hear the others approaching he stands and brushes himself down. “We need to move,” he says. “Quickly.”

  Alyssa bites her lip. “Kole, I don’t think we can. It’s almost sunset.”

  “We kept walking last night, why not tonight?” I ask, urgently.

  “There are jackyls here, Émi. They’re nocturnal. If we’re out there, exposed—”

  Kole doesn’t wait for Alyssa to finish. “Then you stay,” he says, striding on. It’s clear he has no intention of waiting for a group decision.

  No one else moves. Alyssa turns to Tsam. “Tsam, we can’t.”

  Tsam looks at me, then nods slowly. “Alyssa’s right.”

  Speechless, I rub my temples. Tsam puts his hand on me but I shake him off. “You’re serious? You’re going to bunk down and get a good night’s sleep whilst his home burns to the ground? What if it was Abilene? Would we be having the same conversation?”

  Calmly, Tsam says, “Yes, we would. Sometimes it’s necessary to put logic above emotion.”

  He sounds like a different person, someone I don’t recognise. In the distance, Kole’s silhouette is fading and I can’t wait any longer. “Fine. You stay, but I’m not.”

  When I catch up with him, Kole is walking as quickly as he can but his face is etched with pain. We walk past sunset and into the night, where the light of the moon stretches our shadows into elongated desperate versions of ourselves. As we draw closer to Tarynne, it looks as if the sun is starting to rise, but it can’t be, it’s too early. I shudder as I realise that the glow comes from the city, engulfed in flames. I daren’t look at Kole but, more than once, I have to steady him when he stumbles.

  Just before sunrise, a breeze drifts over the plains, carrying the unmistakable sound of the elephants. Icy fingers creep up my body. “They sound like they’re…”

  “Crying,” Kole finishes. “They’re crying.”

  We follow the sound all the way to the bathing pool. Here, every bush, tree and blade of grass is scorched or flickering with orange flames – it looks as though the worst of the fire has raged through here already, but still the flames don’t die.

  Inside their caves, the elephants are calling. Kole dives into the pool and swims to the other side where men, women and children are running frantically to and from the water’s edge, filling up their buckets and hopelessly trying to drench flames that refuse to go out. By the water, a boy of ten or eleven is nursing a young elephant, whispering gently in its ear and smearing a thick brown paste into a burn on its flank. Kole and I each grab an empty bucket and take a place in the line to fill them, but the flames do not abate.

  An hour later, the fire towers over our heads. My eyes are watering and my throat constricts with every breath of smoke that I inhale. The anguished noises from inside the caves are dying down, and the beads of sweat and tears on Kole’s face bleed together as he calls out to Maya, desperate for a reply. Our faces are black with smoke and my arms feel like they are made of lead. When I stop to pour a jug of cold water over my head, someone taps me on the shoulder.

  “I have an idea,” says a voice.

  It is Ava.

  Garrett, Alyssa and Tsam are standing behind her. They must have carried Ava all the way here to catch up with us. “We can both make fire, can’t we, Émi?” she says.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then maybe we can put fire out, too.”

  I shake my head, too tired to understand what she’s saying. “Put it out? How?”

  “Follow me,” she says, unwinding her scarf from around her face and slipping her hand into mine.

  Ava and I walk towards the flames at the entrance to the cave, where they are at their fiercest. Kole spots us and pulls at a neighbour to stand back. Soon, everyone is lowering their buckets and staring at us.

  Now, Ava is different. She’s not the monster on the mountain, or the scared little girl who needed me to hold her. Even her voice is more measured. She turns to me and takes both of my hands in hers. “When Father first taught me, he told me to use my emotions. Anger makes fire. Sadness can stop it. Understand?”

  I think so. I tell her I’ll try, even though I’m shaking, and the two of us step forwards, bringing ourselves as close to the flames as we dare. The heat licks our faces. I feel the sparks bubbling inside me and I try to make them cooler, bluer, like ice, like water. Ava takes my hand and together we breathe deeply. I think of the day my father was taken away, I think of Ma, of Nor and of Kole’s face when he saw the smoke, then suddenly my memories merge with Ava’s and I see Søyen reading her a bedtime story. I see his body at the bottom of the ravine, a shadowy figure standing over her, embracing her, then waving goodbye. We open our eyes and reach our intertwined hands towards the flames. I pull the melancholy out of myself and channel it into the fire. I imagine it as a pale blue light, sweeping over the flames, pushing them back down into the ground… and it works. The flames sputter and begin to fade.

  “They’re putting them out!” a voice cries. I hear Kole order whoever it is to be quiet and everything becomes still. The world slides away. There’s nothing but me, Ava and waves of despair. Soon, the fire is nothing more than flickering embers, and the Taman are able to pick their way across them into the caves. From the limestone steps, Healers appear with baskets of bottles, creams and plants.

  Our work is done and we lower our hands, unlinking our fingers. Tsam herds Ava and I away from the caves. We are both shaking. He tries to make me sit down, but I shrug him off and go to find Kole. Inside the caves, a scene of quiet chaos is unfolding. Healers and Taman kneel before elephants, smothering them with remedies whilst they chant.

  I find Kole and Maya somewhere towards the back. Maya looks unharmed but she is bucking from foot to foot and her eyes are darting from Kole to the entrance. Kole is speaking smoothly, trying to calm her, but when I approach he stops.

  “She’s lost Niri,” he explains. “He was by the pool when the fire started.”

  I step forward and Kole reaches out to stop me. “Careful.”

  I approach more slowly. “Maya? I saw a calf outside, his leg was injured. It could have been Niri but I’m not sure.”

  Maya’s eyelashes flutter. She looks at Kole and he
tells her, “Okay, we’ll go and see.”

  He walks beside her out of the cave, stroking the tip of her trunk, but when we are outside and she sees the calf, Maya releases an ear-splitting cry and charges towards him. Niri tries to stand and stumbles, unsteady on his injured back leg.

  “Steady, Niri,” says the boy guarding him. “Let her come to you.”

  The calf stops, swaying his trunk from side to side as his mother approaches. When Maya reaches him, she sweeps her trunk over his body from head to foot, then sniffs at the injured leg, before pulling him close and rocking him against her.

  Tears prick the corners of my eyes but before I can let myself cry Tsam calls me to where he and Alyssa are standing. A short distance away, Ava is sitting with Garrett. He has his arm around her as she wipes away tears.

  “Is she okay?” I ask Alyssa.

  Alyssa looks over at her brother and my sister. “Garrett will look after her,” she says. “Don’t worry.”

  Tsam smiles at me and rests his hand on my arm. “Well done. You were amazing.”

  I smile back but I’m finding it hard to forgive his unwillingness to walk through the night. Tsam scuffs his foot and asks me to fetch Kole. “We need him to gather his Elders. We need to know if this was Mahg.”

  Kole is reluctant to leave Maya but, eventually, I pry him away. We pass clusters of Taman and Healers tending to the elephants but the rest of Tarynne is unscathed by the fire; it looks as though the elephants were the target. The thought hurls a knot of nausea up into my mouth. It was deliberate. Calculated. Trapping them there. Leaving them to burn.

  The Tarynnese council chambers are halfway up the pinnacle. A circular pool has been carved into the floor, in the centre of which a fountain bubbles gently. The northern side of the room is completely open, as if someone forgot to build a wall there, and remnants of smoke give the view a hazy greyish tint that is dizzying to look at.

  Ava has re-wrapped her face in her scarf and is picking at the singed edge of her left glove. Garrett sits beside her and Alyssa lingers by the back wall.