Honi’s heart skipped. “What is it? Gen, don’t do that to me!”
“Shh! Listen—I heard a noise, in the van…”
Honi started to say irritably, “Don’t be—”
And the words died in her throat as Chari appeared at the top of the steps.
“Chari!” Gen’s squeal made the ponies whinny in alarm. She backed away, clapping both hands over her mouth, and Honi stared at her sister in disbelief.
“Chari? Chari, are you all right?” Hope and fear mingled in her voice and she started forward. Chari’s face bore a strange and awful smile; she stared at Honi, through her, and with a shock Honi released that whatever she was seeing, it wasn’t the night and the meadow and the distant lights of Bruhome. Slowly, and with a peculiar limpness that brought her bare feet down with a heavy thump on each step, Chari descended to the ground, and started to walk purposefully away.
“Chari!” Honi’s fear was swamped by a wave of concern, and she ran to intercept her sister, catching her arm and tugging. “Chari, wake up! It’s me, it’s Honi! Oh, Gen, help me!”
Gen dropped the lantern and ran towards her, but before she could join her strength to Honi’s, Chari turned and looked directly at her sister. Honi recoiled from the unfocused eyes, the rapt but rictus smile—then Chari’s free hand came up and smacked her full in the face.
Honi stumbled back, lost her balance and sat down hard on the wet ground as Chari, unconcerned, turned away and continued walking towards the gate. Gen hauled her to her feet and for a moment the two of them could only watch in helpless confusion as Chari’s figure moved away into the gloom. Then Honi yelled, “Catch her! Gen, get her, quickly!”
They ran after Chari, caught up with her and grabbed an arm each, pulling her back with all their strength. Chart’s feet continued to move as though she were an automaton, and her strength was incredible, so that Honi and Gen found themselves being towed along behind her for several yards before they could dig their heels into the soft earth and drag her to a halt. Then Chari stopped. For a moment she stood rigid, frozen—then, so fast and so ferociously that the other two girls were caught completely unawares, she spun round, wrenching her arms free from their grip. Honi glimpsed her face, and her eyes above the unchanging smile were insane: she screamed, horrified, and Chari lunged at Gen, lifting her off her feet and hurling her away. Gen’s thin shriek as she flew threw the air cut off in a gasp and a sickening thud, and Chari turned to glare at Honi again as though challenging her to risk similar treatment.
“Chari … ?” Honi’s voice was a pitiful whimper. “Chari, what’s happened to you? Gen; she—oh, by the Mother!“ And, blinded by bewildered tears, she turned and ran to where Gen lay.
“Gen! Gen, kitling, are you all right?” She dropped to her knees, lifting Gen’s hair away from her face. Gen was unconscious: she’d hit her head on a half-buried stone as she fell, and blood was trickling darkly from a nasty gash just under the hairline. But she was still breathing, and—though Honi was too inexperienced to be entirely sure—there didn’t seem to be any bones broken.
She couldn’t leave Gen lying out here. She had to get her back to the caravan, then run to the town for Da, or Esty, or Indigo. They’d know what to do. But that would mean leaving Gen alone. There was no one else here to look after her; they’d all gone to the meeting. What if something happened while she was away? What was best? What should she do?
Honi raised her head and stared miserably at the empty meadow. Chari had vanished. Chari had hit her, and hurt her little sister, and gone walking off into the dark like all those strange travelers on the road. And she was alone; and frightened, so very frightened.
“Oh, Da …” The words broke from Honi’s throat in a gulping sob. “Da, come back! Please, come back …”
When Stead and Forth arrived five minutes later, they found Honi kneeling on the grass in a small circle of lamplight, hugging Gen close to her and still crying. Honi was too distressed to be coherent, and only when Forth ran to the caravan, looked inside and saw Chari’s empty pallet did they realize the essentials of what had happened.
“Chari!” Stead shouted into the darkness, his face drawn with terror. “Chari, where are you? Chari!”
“It’s no use, Da.” Forth gathered Gen into his arms. She was beginning to stir, he noted thankfully, and he judged that apart from a few bruises and a sore head she’d be well enough. “Even Honi doesn’t know which way she went. She could be anywhere!”
“But where are they all going?” Stead pleaded desperately. “Where?”
Forth saw lanterns approaching, heard the sound of voices. “Here’s Indigo and the others,” he said. “Da, perhaps Grimya can track Chari—it might be our only chance to find her!“
Hampered by the slower pace of the smaller children, Indigo, Grimya and the rest of the Brabazons had fallen far behind Stead and Forth, and were only now coming through the meadow gate. Forth ran to meet them, and in a few terse words explained what had happened, and asked Indigo if Grimya could help.
Of course I can, Grimya told Indigo as she overheard him. But we must waste no time. I think Chari is in great danger!
And without waiting for a further word, she ran back to the gate and started to sniff around.
Forth stared at her. “It’s as if she understands …”
“She does.” Indigo didn’t attempt to deny it; this was no time for charades. “Don’t ask me about that, Forth; just follow her. Hurry!”
Grimya had already picked up Chari’s track, and she was moving carefully away into the darkness. Forth called his father, and the three of them set off after the wolf, Stead shouting over his shoulder for the others to stay close by the vans and not move until their return.
At the road Grimya paused, but only for a moment before turning northward. Following her, Indigo recalled her own journey with Forth on the previous day, and shivered as she wondered how far along that road Charity meant to travel, and what awaited her at its end.
“We should have brought a lantern.” Forth’s voice cut into her thoughts as he loped beside her. “Road’s like a ploughed rut. All too easy to turn an ankle.”
“Too late for that now.” They were both breathless, clipping their words; the run from the town and the peculiar, stifling airlessness of the dark had taken a toll of their energy. And the dark was intensifying as Bruhome’s lights fell further behind, emphasizing Forth’s warning. Indigo could barely see Stead’s vivid hair before her, and when, experimentally, she held a hand out before her face, its outline was dim and blurred.
Grimya. She projected the thought urgently. We can hardly see in this blackness. Don’t leave us too far behind!
The she-wolf’s silent voice answered her. I dare not wait! I think there is someone ahead of me in the distance, and it might be Chari.
Keep in contact with me, then. Keep telling me where you are.
Yes. For now, all you need to do is stay on the road. There was a pause, then: The figure is closer now. I think it’s her, but I can’t be sure. When I know, I will call out.
For a while longer—it might have been minutes, it might have been mere seconds; normal judgment was distorted by the blackness and their own trepidation—the three stumbled on. Then suddenly a spine-chilling sound echoed distantly out of the dark: the full-throated, ululating howl of a wolf.
“Mother preserve us!” Forth started violently.
“It’s Grimya!” Indigo caught his arm to steady him as he seemed about to lose his footing on the uneven road surface. “She’s found her!”
Seconds later Grimya came racing out of the gloom.
Indigo! I’ve found Chari, but there’s danger! The black forest lies across the road ahead, and she’s walking towards it!
“The forest? Oh, no!” Appalled, Indigo spoke aloud before she could control her tongue. Stead looked at her in horror, then gave an inarticulate cry and broke into a run, careless of the pitted track.
“Stead!” Indigo shouted. “Be
careful!” He ignored her, and she swore. “Forth, hurry! Grimya says the forest lies dead ahead of us—if Stead runs into those thorns, they’ll impale him!”
Forth’s eyes widened. “Grimya says—?”
“I can’t explain; there isn’t time! Come on!”
They raced after Stead, who by now was some way ahead of them. Grimya overtook him, leaping at him in an effort to turn him aside, but he ignored her and staggered on like a mad drunkard. And then Indigo saw a greater darkness looming out of the unnatural night; a huge, shapeless mass that blocked the road ahead. She heard the malevolent rustling, the soft scraping of branch against branch, the faint, sinister clashing of the thorns, and she yelled with all the force she could muster.
“Stead! Stead, stop! If you value your life, stop!”
Stead was no more than ten yards from the deadly trees. And ahead of him something else moved in the gloom; a slight figure, pale, ghostlike, walking forward as though in a trance.
“Stead!” Indigo forced her legs to carry her faster, yet knew that she couldn’t hope to catch up with Stead before he reached the thorns. And, now only two paces ahead of her father, Chari stepped up to the edge of the monstrous forest.
The thorns parted. Their clashing rose to a sudden frenzy, and the misshapen branches drew back to form a black tunnel, like a gaping, ravenous mouth, leading into the forest’s impenetrable depths. Chari didn’t falter but stepped straight into the dark maw—and Stead, howling her name, made a blind, flying rush as he strove to reach her and drag her back.
“NO!” Indigo cried frantically. “Stead, come back! Grimya—Grimya, stop him!”
Grimya flung herself forward. Her teeth snapped together on Stead’s sleeve; he wrenched his arm up, trying to shake her off; then suddenly he seemed to lose his balance, teetering forward. His flailing hand caught a handful of Chari’s hair; Grimya leaped again, trying to renew her grip—
And the thicket snapped together like a trap at their backs, shutting all three behind a solid wall of thorns.
Indigo shrieked, “Grimya!” and hurled herself at the black barrier, beating at branches, leaves, thorns, struggling to force a way through. Her voice rose hysterically, screaming Grimya’s name again and again, until she was hauled back and wrestled violently to the ground, still screaming, still fighting. A weight crushed down on her, she tried to kick it away, biting, clawing, spitting: then pain flared at the back of her head, breaking through the madness, overtaking it, and suddenly she slumped back as the last of her energy fled.
She was lying on her back in the road, with Forth sitting squarely on her stomach. He gripped hanks of her hair in both hands; in sheer desperation, not knowing how else to overpower her, he’d banged her skull—not fiercely, but hard enough to hurt—against the ground until she stopped screaming and fighting; and now, as panic faded, they stared at each other in mutual, wordless horror.
“Grimya…” Indigo said in a small voice. “Oh, Forth …” She shut her eyes and her mouth twisted into an ugly contortion as she strove not to cry.
Forth scrambled upright, fumbling at his belt and drawing his knife from its sheath. “Maybe I can cut a way through. They can’t have gone far in yet.”
“No.” The pendulum had swung back; in the wake of hysteria came chill rationality. “It won’t work, Forth. No blade could cut through those trees.”
“I can at least try!” Forth ran to the thicket, knife raised, and started to hack at the branches. For several minutes he worked, slashing at the black vegetation, his curses growing louder and more furious; then at last he stepped back, breathing heavily and with sweat running down his face.
“I can’t do it.” He sounded like a bewildered child. “It’s not even making any impression!” And he spun to face the trees again. “Da! Chari! Da, answer me! Da!”
The unnatural trees rustled secretively, but there was no answering cry. Shakily, Indigo got to her feet. As she approached him, Forth turned blindly towards her with a sob, and they hugged each other tightly and silently, trying to ease their shared misery.
Finally Forth drew back. He was trembling, and his cheeks were wet, but here was a determined set to his face despite the fact that he seemed reluctant to meet Indigo’s eyes.
“We’ve got to go back,” he said. “We’ve got to tell the others.” A sharp, angry breath. “We’ll come back with torches. Maybe we can burn a way through.”
Indigo said hollowly: “I don’t think so. Whatever those trees are, wherever they came from, I don’t think fire can touch them any more than knives.”
He rounded on her. “Well, we’ve got to do something! Don’t you understand? Da and Chari are in there!”
“And Grimya.”
“Yes, and Grimya! And we’ve got to get them out!”
If it isn ‘t already too late. Indigo thought, and instantly regretted it. Grimya couldn’t die: that was a part of her own curse which the she-wolf shared. But she could suffer. And Stead and Chari were another matter …
She looked up at the trees again. Their tops were invisible, merging into the dense night. And their rustling sounded to her inflamed senses like mocking, sniggering laughter.
Indigo took hold of Forth’s hand. “Come on,” she said quietly. “Perhaps you’re right; perhaps fire will work. It’s at least worth trying. Let’s get back to the camp, quickly.”
They turned away, back down the road. The trees’ soft laughter seemed to follow them, until even the small, malign echoes of creaking boughs and whispering thorns were swallowed in the brooding silence of the dark.
•CHAPTER•VII•
“All right.” Forth glared at the circle of faces around the camp fire, his expression daring anyone to argue with him, and his eyes finally focused on Indigo. “It’s a good idea, and it should work. But you’re not going alone.”
“Forth—”
“I said, no.” Forth thumped the heel of one hand down on the grass for emphasis. “While Da and Chan are gone I’m head of this family, and what I say stands. Two of us go with you, or you don’t go at all. And don’t think we can’t make you stay if we have to.”
It wasn’t true, but Indigo let it pass. Forth needed this show of authority, not only to reassure his brothers and sisters but also to reassure himself, and to restore his self-esteem. On the nightmare journey back to Bruhome she’d heard him sobbing as he ran, and he knew it and was ashamed. She’d tried to tell him that there was nothing unmanly in tears, but he’d rejected her comfort angrily: as with the argument they’d had at the river—so long ago now, that seemed—he hated any suspicion, however misplaced, that he might seem like a child in her eyes.
She cast her gaze down. “Very well.” He had the right, too, she reminded herself: though she was solely responsible for this predicament, it was the lives of his father and sister, not hers, which were at stake. And—conscience aside—she admitted privately that the thought of companionship in what she might have to face was more than a little comforting.
“So,” Esty spoke up, “who’s to go and who’s to stay?”
“I go with Indigo.” Again Forth gave them all a challenging look, and no one dissented. “And I think there should be one other. Three will be better off than two if there’s any trouble, or if Chari or Da are hurt. We’ll have to decide who’ll be the best choice.”
Esty stirred the cooking pot. “That’s easy.” She looked up, and her green eyes met her brother’s determinedly. “Me.”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re a girl.”
“So’s Indigo, and it isn’t going to stop her. No, Forth; shut up and listen. None of us knows what might happen here while you’re away, and if there’s any more trouble we might need physical strength and the ability to fight. That means Cour, Rance and Forti. The other boys are too young to go—” There was an outburst from the three, and Esty waved a ladle at them. “Quiet! This isn’t a game, it’s serious. They’re too young. Harmi and Honi are both better than me at organizing everyone, and they’l
l make a better job of seeing that the camp runs smoothly. So it’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m the only one who can come with you.”
Forth looked helplessly at Indigo. He clearly didn’t like the idea, but Esty had pre-empted his arguments and he felt out of his depth. “Indigo? What do you think?”
Indigo regarded Esty for a few moments. Of all the Brabazon girls she was the most unpredictable; yet there was a core of strength to her. Esty was shrewd and knew how to look after herself; and her argument was sound. Provided her impulsive excesses could be kept in check—and Forth’s too, for that matter—they were the only logical choices.
She said, “I think Esty’s right. She should be the one to come with us.”
Piety, who hadn’t fully understood all that was being said but sensed intuitively that the family’s troubles were far from over, began to cry; a reaction to the chaos that her life had so bewilderingly become. Harmony, already beginning to slip into the role that Chari had previously held, went to comfort her, and Forth pushed himself back from the fireside.
“Right. Well if that’s settled, there’s no time to be lost. I’m going to get the things I’ll need; Indigo, Esty, you’d better do the same. Then I want to see Cour, Rance and Forti in Da’s van.”
“Honi’ll bring you some food,” Esty said. “No point us leaving on empty stomachs when we don’t know how long it’ll be to our next meal.”
The nature of the atmosphere around the fire was changing. There was tension still, but it was suddenly leavened by a positive feeling that the helpless hiatus of recent hours was at last broken. However, Indigo was aware that it would be all too easy, in the enthusiasm of the moment, to overlook one vital matter. Neither Forth nor Esty had any real grasp of what they might be facing if the plan she had devised worked. Brave talk was all Very well, but the reality would be different: even the strategy for getting through the thorn barrier might be their undoing if the Brabazons proved more squeamish than they claimed; and beyond that … she didn’t know what lay beyond that, but intuition and old experience told her that it could be worse than any nightmare. She couldn’t let them go into this unprepared: in all conscience, she must tell them what truly lay behind this quest.
Nocturne Page 9
