She murmured a reply when he said good night, then a cold blast of night air drove her lethargy away. Both Casco and Cobar had gone. She looked across the fire into Huldar’s eyes. He smiled and fed another small piece of coal to the flames.
The silence stretched on.
He lifted his mug. “These nights … they remind me of home.”
“I didn’t know it got so cold on Lentath.” Andel took another sip of jhavo.
“Hmm,” he nodded, “it does … in the highlands where my family live.”
“I was thinking of home, too,” said Andel. “The sun, the moss … barefoot and warm.”
Huldar smiled. “Oh, yes, barefoot and warm would be nice.” He poked the fire. Sparks swarmed up and vanished through the smoke-hole.
“Did you camp out often, as a child?” she asked.
“We Lethians rarely stay indoors,” Huldar nodded, “especially those of us who dedicate to the life of the Breath. We want to feel it all around and listen to its songs. There is always more to learn.” He gave her a quick glance then returned to the flames. “It must be different for you Trianogi.” He looked up again. “You must miss your home and your family.”
Andel thought for a moment, comparing her gentle early life with the more rigorous one he’d described. “It is different,” she said. “I was not raised for a life of environmental challenges or dedicated at an early age to my studies, but my family were perhaps a little bit Leth-like. Rain or sun, we were often outdoors. Sometimes Father would take us on weeklong hiking trips through the wild places of Frith. And there was our uncle, Shamkarun Roshu, the navigator. He took us all over the known. My brother loved it, loved the chime. He wanted to be a navigator too – an explorer.”
“What happened to him?”
Huldar’s voice was gentle, but when she tried to tell him about her brother’s accident, her throat closed over. Her hand went to the small stick she still carried.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, no. It’s just that …”
His mind radiated calmness and peace, but underneath she sensed his concern.
I have lost loved ones too, he said.
She took another sip of jhavo and let it slip down her throat. “It was late,” she whispered. “We were on Germane, the Trianogi world with the twin suns?”
Huldar nodded, I know it.
“Then you know the dangers. There are rocks that form there, minerals that can be found nowhere else. They say that the planet will be habitable one day, that its orbit is changing. A strange world. Mystical. That’s why we Trianogi love it so. But it’s harsh.”
His eyes were on the flames, but she could feel his care like a warm cloak, ready to listen, wanting to know.
“My family went there.” She bowed her head. “Father thought we would enjoy the experience of sunrise from the high plateau. We arrived after dark, when the tides had passed. Camped not far from the Djan’rū. Uncle Roshu said he’d be back before sunrise. We would shelter as the dawn passed over us, then leave before the winds began. We pitched our tent near the remains of a stone hut someone had built, but the gravitational surges had been too much for it. My brother, Aan– Aanjay – isn’t it silly? After all this time I still have trouble speaking his name.
A strong memory of Aanjay’s face came back to her. She could almost hear him. Look, sis! Come and look! It was never fully dark on Germane. In her mind’s eye she saw it again as if it were yesterday.
They scrambled down a crevasse together and into a narrow cave.
It was dim and musty.
“I want to go back now,” Andel said.
Don’t be silly. There’s nothing here. I scanned it.
I want to go back, she said again. The premonition of danger hung like a storm cloud. She could almost hear the thunder. But Aanjay scrambled further in. Here, he said, and handed her a small piece of stick with rounded ends. Beautiful, isn’t it?
She studied the intricate designs. Did bugs make these? She smiled and tried to hand it back.
No, you keep it, he said. Explorers need specimens to study!
Her fingers played over its satiny surface as she followed him deeper into the cave. I wonder how it got so smooth, she said, and why the ends are all rounded.
There’s rocks here, Aanjay said. Shiny ones with green streaks. You like rocks!
On the far side of a yawning fissure there was a pile of pebbles, each one almost perfectly spherical with a surface like polished green glass. He stepped delicately around the hole, then picked one up and threw it to her. They were cool and slick to touch. The green was banded like layers of moss frozen in ice. How did the stones get so round, she wondered, like the stick?
The sensation of danger escalated.
The cave shook. Dust and rubble fell from the ceiling.
“We have to get out!” she cried. “Aanjay, come on!”
Andel felt her mother’s call and started for the opening, but behind her Aanjay screamed. His mind clutched onto hers – a tumbled blur as he fell through the fissure, then striations of worn rock-face as he landed in a tunnel underneath. Agonizing pain came from his leg.
It’s broken, he cried. Help me, sis!
The thunder in her chest increased, and she realized it was not her heart, but the cavern itself. The spherical stoned shivered. Grit shuddered from the cave walls – and then she knew. Water! Water had shaped the stones!
She ran to the edge of the fissure and teetered on the edge. Aanjay looked up. His leg was all wrong. If she lay down, she could almost reach him. Air blew against her face.
Take my hand! she cried.
She remembered his touch, his desperate grip, the feel of his skin slipping, her fingers stretched, then left cold as the flash flood boomed through the tunnel. Then there was only the thunder. Spray blasted her face. She screamed when his death-cry came – My brave little sister. Take care of Mother. She loves you so much …
As if from nowhere, her father snatched her up and sprinted for the opening. Behind them, a churning spume filled the cave. They barely made it to safety before the water jetted past them and arced to the canyon floor so far below. Aanjay’s body was never recovered.
“How old were you?” Huldar asked.
She wiped tears from her eyes. “One hundred and sixty summers. He was five-ninety, almost of age. Our uncle arranged an interview for him with the Navigators’ Guild, and he had been accepted. The trip to Germane was supposed to be a celebration.”
Fresh tears blurred her eyes. He wanted to explore, to see everything.
Aye, he did. And now you are seeing it for him. Huldar’s soft brogue washed through her mind.
“If I had left when I knew it was dangerous, if I had stopped him … I didn’t make him listen.” … Didn’t listen to myself.
It wasn’t your fault, Huldar said. When she didn’t respond, he gave a gentle smile. “What can we say to those whose song is no longer heard,” he recited, “to those whose charm was silenced, loose threads unfulfilled? Breath blows and carries desire … sorrow and joy, the twins, each in the other’s shadow.” He made a small bow. “Kaskarudjan Imahtara of Trianog.”
Andel blinked back fresh tears. “Thank you,” she sniffed. “Imahtara was a great poet, revered by all Trianogi. I read her works as a child – Aanjay and I – we both did, but I don’t remember that piece. It’s very beautiful,” she added.
Huldar reached into Qalān and retrieved a small book bound in soft suede. He stroked the cover fondly. “My mother gave me this,” he said. “Maybe it was handwritten by Imahtara herself. If not, someone has gone to a lot of trouble to preserve her works.” He handed it to her. “You’ll find it in here.”
She held the leather bindings to her nose and breathed in a faint perfume. Samarkala?
Huldar smiled. “Borrow it, if you like. It has often comforted me.”
Really? She clasped the book in wonder. But it’s priceless – irreplaceable!
Thank you!
My pleasure. Huldar inclined his head. Andel watched his long legs unfold as he climbed to his feet. “And now, I’m off to sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow’s a big day. We’ll go back to The Hat and see if your unique theory has substance.”
“Good night …” She held the book to her heart, close to the keepsake Aanjay had given her so long ago. And thank you again.
The tent flap closed. Andel explored the book’s cover with sensitive fingertips. Slipped between two pages was a red ribbon: she opened the book at that point to find detailed drawings of flowers and creatures intertwined against a starry night sky. Had Kaskarudjan Imahtara made the illustration herself? Among the figures was another poem with characters written in red-gold ink – perhaps it was his favorite passage. She held it to the firelight and read …
… Time is all we have,
Love is all we are,
Time and love,
El’s boundless gift.
RESCUE
The smell of warm grain and fruit drew Huldar from sleep. He pushed aside his snug furs and pulled on clothing as quickly as he could, guilty for having slept late. With a rueful smile he remembered his late-night conversation with Andel. His impulsive gift had seemed right at the time, but now he felt awkward.
He wrapped his jacket tight and followed his nose to the cookfire.
She was next to Casco, eating already. She smiled at him and he returned it with what he hoped was a suitably casual greeting, comradely – yet warm. He accepted a breakfast bowl from Cobar. The fruit was one they had collected in the east, fragrant and sweet, but the taste barely registered. He was supposed to go with her to The Hat today to examine that trace she’d found, but perhaps he should go with Casco. He needed time to settle his stomach. He waved his bowl toward Cobar.
“If you go with Andel to The Hat, me and Casco will be on the –”
“Nope.” Cobar shook his head.
Huldar blinked.
“Remember?” Casco said. “We discussed this last night. I need his help to examine the Long Island escarpment, unless you fancy a day or two being an anchor while I scale cliffs?”
He glanced her way and hoped she hadn’t overheard. It would seem as if he didn’t want to be with her – but he did. It was just that …
With her empty bowl held by her side, she stood and looked out to sea. A loose plait tumbled from beneath her fur-lined hood. He remembered the book again and emotion zinged his haze. He saw her turn and quickly looked away.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Yes … Andel and I will go to The Hat.” She nodded. “Stay in touch, you two,” he added. “In a few weeks the others will join us, then a few more and we’ll be away again and off to the north. We’ll come back here after that, so no tearing rush, but I’d like to get study fields collated before they get here.”
“North pole? Can’t wait.” Casco rolled his eyes. “Come on, Cobar, got your climbing gear sorted?”
Cobar grunted. “Two more weeks of peace.”
Huldar watched as they stepped through the portal, then turned to Andel. “Ready?”
On the fossil plateau, the weather was calm and sunny and they soon had their jackets off. Below them, the sea stretched onward beneath an azure sky.
“It’s like an endless bowl of blue cream – islands like lumps of fruit,” Huldar said.
Andel looked at him. “And you think I say strange things?”
Huldar tried to suppress the laugh building in his chest. “The islands … don’t they look like fruit to you?”
“Fruit and cream?” She peered at the ocean. “Hmm.” She pointed at some small cottony lumps just below the horizon. “Are those clouds, or perhaps a spun sugar confection waiting outside the bowl of the ocean for a giant invisible hand to sprinkle them over the top?”
“Definitely!”
As he released his laugh, a swarm of lizards flitted like a green shadow across the rock shelf below. They were smaller than varieties found on other islands, but still something to be wary of.
They made their way over the fractured surface. He glanced at the fossils embedded in the stone, treasures that would have to wait for another time. Today was Andel’s day. It would be up to him to protect her while she scanned the ocean bedrock for possible nacrite deposits.
Low bushes and shrubs grew in sheltered fissures, and when their legs brushed against them, showers of small, hopping insects scattered, bright as jewels. He indicated a larger, fluorescent green beetle, and Andel smiled with pleasure.
Look, she said, and shared the image of the lithe pink lizard that stalked it. Its head was motionless, three eyes measuring. Its front two legs were tipped with large serrated claws and cocked above its head like those of the voracious predators on the northern island. With no more warning than a flick of its tail, it leaped at its prey. Andel gasped. Its forearms wrapped the green carapace in a death grip and after a brief struggle the beetle went limp.
Venomous? she asked.
Must be, he replied. Let’s not try to pick it up.
Down on the reef, the air was still and humid. The sun blazed down, and they squinted against the glare.
“It was there,” Andel said. “By that outcrop, the one that looks like a weyfal, or, if you look at it another way, a piece of fruit.” She turned to him, her eyes bright. “Race you!”
He let her run ahead, thinking it would be easy to catch up, but soon discovered she was much better at running over the uneven surface of the reef than he was. She glanced back as she neared the target, eyes alight with excitement, and laughed aloud, but when she stopped her haze settled back around her like a cloak. She stroked the weyfal rock thoughtfully then opened her palm toward the sea and closed her eyes, preparing to feel for the nacrite she seemed so confident was there.
Wait, Huldar said. Let me scan for lizards first.
Oh, of course. When she smiled, he felt the corners of his mouth curl and he sighed inside. When he was with her, he could think of nothing sensible to say, and now he was smiling like an idiot just because she had smiled, and out of breath because she had invited him to run faster. What a fool he must seem! He settled his breathing and let his senses range, searching for the collective sparkle of a lizard pack. He found the dominant group foraging on the other side of the plateau. Several smaller groups were scattered to the west, kept occupied by a hatching of grubs.
All clear, he said.
She nodded and closed her eyes again. After a moment, she kneeled on the reef and put her palms against it in much the same gesture as he would use when feeling for Qalān. Her mind was still in light contact, but she was processing through talents he lacked and the information made little sense.
Her head tilted slowly as the interaction grew more complex. Light from her Tsemkar glimmered on the slick surface of the rock.
There! she said, and with the word came a sense of direction, south-east. Her voice rang with suppressed excitement. Nacrite has no physical connection to the rock around it – and that usually makes it hard to sense – but there’s mountains of it! This could be the cause, just as we suspected!
Her sense of triumph gusted through him, a feeling so wondrous that he almost laughed aloud, but when she saw him react, the sensation was quickly pulled back beneath her veil.
My apologies, she said. I should be more disciplined.
Please, don’t apologize. Such an exciting moment, and I am pleased to be sharing it with you. His heart raced. Had he said too much? Would she think him too forward? He kept his questions firmly lidded and smiled into the middle distance in what he trusted was a leaderly way.
If she sensed his turmoil, she shared nothing of it. He prepared to stand guard as she divined deeper into the rock. The exact location of the nacrite was vital knowledge. He was every bit as keen to find answers as she was.
She stood up and, with her eyes still
closed, set off across the reef, walking with complete assurance on a steady trajectory heading for the sea. He followed, ready to guide her around any obstructions she may not sense.
Two paces from the edge of the reef he stopped her.
He waited, one arm held out to keep her from falling into the sea. Her head turned as if scanning. A wave sloshed over their feet. Foam hissed and bubbled. Lucky the waters are calm today, he thought to himself. Had the swells been bigger, they may have been prevented from accessing the reef at all.
At last the images she shared with him slowed and he received something that made sense – a dense cluster of nodules bobbing in the lightless waters.
Excitement surged between them. It’s trapped beneath a layer of basalt! she said. A vast slab that extends to either side of where we are now. The formation … it’s as if an enormous shelf – miles long – has fallen into the sea. The friction of the nacrite has caused erosion, a series of domes on the southern edge, and it’s trapped there, concentrated. When the moons are in alignment and have their greatest tidal pull, the rock must be destabilized. A giant fulcrum! When the balance is tipped the whole assemblage suddenly tilts …
… Causing the wave!
Yes!
Amazing!
But the nacrite can’t escape beyond the lip of the dome, so it stays there, and then the weight slowly pushes it down again.
Andel stood motionless, her mind enmeshed in rock and nacrite. No part of her physical body betrayed the excitement of the spirit it contained. Without thought, he stepped closer. Their hazes almost sizzled when they touched. She remained statue still, but he knew she was acutely aware. His arm drifted closer as if drawn by her infectious energy.
HULDAR!
He blinked, stunned by the force of the call. Like a startled bird, his moment with Andel fluttered and was lost.
HULDAR, HELP ME!
Lind? What is it? He tried not to sound annoyed. It must be important if she had called to him from so far away.
I’m trapped! she cried. There’s wasps; they’re swarming! I may have broken my ankle. I don’t know what to do!
Planet Walkers Page 13
