The two Brabazons were already heading towards their caravans, and she got to her feet, calling to them. “Forth! Esty! Before you make your preparations …” She hastened towards them and lowered her voice so that the others wouldn’t hear. “There’s something I have to tell you, and it’s vital that you should know it before we set out.”
Esty sighed impatiently, but Forth’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Something to do with what you said to me on the road?”
“Yes. And it has a bearing on our journey.”
“All right. We shouldn’t waste more time than we have to, but … come into the main van. We can talk there.”
And so, in the privacy of the van, Indigo told them her story: or rather, as much of her story as she felt they needed to know and would believe. She told them of her quest to find and destroy the seven demons, and of her discovery that the third of those demons was the motivating evil behind the blight that afflicted Bruhome. She told them, too, the truth about Grimya. And though she said nothing of her old, lost identity, or of the curse of immortality that was a part of her burden, she told them, hesitantly and painfully, of Fenran, whose life hung in the balance as hostage to her success or failure.
When she was done, there was silence in the van for some while. Then, very slowly, Esty reached out and took hold of her hand.
“Oh, Indigo.” The girl’s eyes were bright with emotion. “We had no idea; none of us.” She glanced quickly at Forth, who was watching Indigo with a taut expression, but he said nothing. “Such a terrible story. So sad. It’s like … I don’t know, like the legends we sing of in our shows, but—”
“Don’t be so crass!” Forth interrupted angrily. “They’re just folk tales. This,” he looked at Indigo again, more intently than ever, “is real. It’s happened to Indigo, and if all you can say is that it’s like some stupid children’s fable—”
“That wasn’t what I meant!” Esty retorted. “Of course I know there’s a difference: what d’you think I am?”
“Then you know that Indigo means exactly what she says when she tells us that rescuing Da and Chari is going to be dangerous, don’t you?” Forth’s anger was under control now, but it still simmered; and Indigo suspected that there was a little more behind it than simple if misplaced disgust for his sister. “When Indigo says we’ll be facing a demon, she means a demon. Not some make-believe figure from your romantic daydreams, but a—”
“I know what she means!” Esty fired back. “I know what a demon is!”
Indigo, who had watched the quarrel with growing disquiet, intervened.
“Forth, Esty: I mean no insult, but I doubt if either of you really understand yet exactly what it is we’ll be facing,” she said quietly. They both turned to look at her, but she forestalled any denials, continuing: “The truth is, none of us knows what to expect. This power, this—demon,” she was reluctant now to use the word, for it had planted too many preconceptions in their minds, “might take any form, or no form at all. We may not even be able to recognize it if we find it—”
“When we find it,” Esty corrected fiercely.
“Very well, when we find it. I told you my story because I want you to understand my reasons for making this attempt, and because it would be a gross injustice to lead you into danger unless you know the whole truth.” A small, wry smile curved her mouth. “I wish I could have told you of the demon without having to reveal my own predicament, but that would have left too many unanswered questions. Now, though, you’re armed with as much knowledge as I can give you. All we can do is hope that it’ll be enough.”
Esty, sobered, cast her gaze down. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound frivolous, Indigo. And Forth and I shouldn’t have quarreled.” She flashed her brother a defiant look, then returned Indigo’s smile a little pallidly. “It’s not an encouraging start, is it? You must be asking yourself whether we’ll be more trouble than we’re worth!”
“Of course I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true, but Indigo knew that it was far too late to reconsider. Forth had meant what he said earlier: she couldn’t stop them from going with her. She felt guilty, but she knew that even if she were to set out alone, they’d follow her, and the consequences of their entering the demon world without her to help them didn’t bear thinking about. However much of a liability they might prove to be, she had no option but to take them with her.
She said: “Let’s say no more of it, Esty. We’ve still got a lot to do before we set out, and Forth’s right about not wasting time.” She looked from one to the other of them. “Peace?”
“Peace,” Esty agreed eagerly. Forth hesitated, then nodded. “Peace.”
Indigo’s plan for penetrating the black forest was simple, if a little macabre. Things had changed in Bruhome during the last few hours; in one way for the better, in another for the worse. The feared riot in the market square had been averted after all: by a bizarre twist of fate the emergence of the sleepers had been the saving factor, for it had acted like ice-cold water on the crowd’s rising temperature, focusing attention away from personal terrors to something more shocking and more sobering. The townsfolk had been stunned into helplessness, unable to do anything but watch in blank incomprehension as the victims of the sickness, like moths drawn to an invisible flame, emerged from their beds and their homes and walked away into the night. A few hardier souls had tried to stop some of the walkers and had fared no better than Honi and Gen; with their failure, a kind of apathy had settled on the town, a numb acceptance that this, like so many frightening events before it, was simply another link in the chain, another manifestation of the evil that held Bruhome in the palm of its hand. They couldn’t fight it any more: the will was gone, shriveled with the crops, vanished with the lost loved ones, caged as the unnatural forest now caged the town. All they could do was passively accept the fate that no one seemed able to change, and weep for their own misfortune.
But though Bruhome was now quiet, it seemed that the evil wasn’t yet done with its victims. An hour after the last sleepwalker had left the town, two children—twins—slumped down at their family’s hearth and couldn’t be woken. Another hour later they rose, white-faced, smiling, oblivious to their mother’s screams and their father’s drunken entreaties, and walked out of the house and away eastward. Shortly afterwards, two men and a woman were seen moving purposefully along the eastern road. And in other parts of the town, in homes, taverns, even in the Brewmasters’ Hall where many had gone to share their distress with their neighbors, new sleepers fell and new walkers emerged. It seemed as though whatever beckoned to them, whatever slipped deep into their consciousnesses and called them away, it would not be satisfied until there was no one left.
And that news, brought by Cour who had ventured into the town before her return, had shown Indigo how she could defeat the barrier of thorns. She knew, now, where the sleepwalkers were going and why the directions they took were so random. They were being drawn to the forest, and the forest was all around them. As each blind wanderer approached, the thicket would open, admitting a new victim to whatever unholy world lay beyond. And where Stead and Grimya had fallen through into that world when the trees parted for Chari, so Indigo and her companions meant to follow the next sleeper who left Bruhome, and break through in their turn.
They gathered by the fire to make their farewells. Everyone was present, even Gen, who had recovered and showed no sign of her injury but for a light bandage tied rakishly about her head. Esty, self-conscious in a shirt and trousers borrowed from Indigo, hugged everyone in turn, saving a special kiss for little Piety, then made a show of checking the bag of provisions slung over her shoulder so that no one would see her uncertainty. Forth was falsely cheerful, telling the younger ones to be sure to make up a song about their exploits and challenging Cour to learn a complicated pipe tune on his hurdy-gurdy during their absence. Indigo felt she could say nothing, but when Rance and Honi, emotion overcoming shyness, ran to her and hugged her, she held tight to t
hem for as long as she could before stepping back. Then, all too hastily, the last words were said and the last kisses exchanged, and the three left the meadow and the diminishing group of waving figures beside the fire, and set their faces towards the town.
They’d gone no more than twenty yards before a shout halted them. Turning, Indigo saw Cour signaling wildly and pointing back towards the river: Forth drew a sharp breath, and she realized that another figure was moving up behind them.
“Earth Mother!” Forth said softly. “It’s an omen—it has to be!”
The travelers who had tried to leave Bruhome in the wake of the storm had all returned, sobered and cowed by what they had encountered outside the town. Most had sought the comfort of the local taverns, but after the abortive meeting in the square some had slunk back to the meadow encampment to wait fearfully for whatever might befall. Now, someone had emerged from a tent close to the river bank, and the moment she saw him Indigo knew that he had fallen prey to the sickness, and was now following the dreadful, inevitable compulsion that had carried off so many before him. She and her companions froze, and the man walked up to them and past them and on to the gate, staring fixedly ahead, unaware of anything around him.
“Follow him.” Forth’s voice was an eager, tense whisper. “Quickly. Don’t let him out of sight!”
Indigo saw fear in Esty’s eyes, but said nothing. She looked back at the camp again as the three of them started after the sleepwalker, and signaled a last acknowledgment to Cour, who stood alone and a little apart from the others. She raised a hand in thanks for the warning, and he acknowledged with a like gesture. But he looked bereft.
The entranced man turned northward from the meadow gate, taking, ironically, the same road that Chari had done. Indigo hoped the direction might be a good omen, though experience had taught her to be sceptical and she wasn’t about to place any reliance on the hope. Even if they entered the forest world at precisely the same point where Grimya, Chari and Stead had disappeared, the chances of being able to track them were remote. And if they did find them, what then? She hadn’t yet dared to consider that question.
The walker ahead was moving surprisingly fast, and keeping up with him wasn’t easy in the darkness despite the lantern Forth carried. Indigo could hear Esty muttering under her breath in time to her own steps; she wasn’t sure whether the words were a walking rhyme or a charm against ill luck. There was no one else on the road, and an eerie quiet hung over the land, intensified rather than relieved by the quick shuffle of their footfalls. Nothing moved in the rank grass by the side of the track, no other sound disturbed the stillness. Fanciful though the thought might be, Indigo felt that the land was holding its breath, waiting for some unspecified but certain event.
When they caught the first glimpse of the black trees blocking the way ahead of them, all three halted instantly. Esty, who hadn’t encountered the monstrous forest before, stared at the thicket in awed silence, but Indigo’s chagrin—and Forth’s, she saw when she glanced at him—had a different and more alarming cause.
The forest had moved. Even a few hours ago, when they’d tracked Chari along this very road, they had traveled, by Indigo’s calculation, at least another half-mile before coming upon the dark wall of trees; and on the day of the storm, when they’d set out on the abortive mission to the next town, the forest had been a good number of miles away. Now, though, it was clear that it was encroaching, closing in on Bruhome as a snare might slowly strangle its captive. How long, Indigo asked herself in trepidation, would it be before the supernatural wood reached the town itself, and engulfed it?
Forth, who had had the same thought, said tersely, “We daren’t let ourselves consider it, Indigo. We have to go on.”
She nodded, and Esty said sharply, “He’s going up to the trees!”
The sleepwalker had almost reached the thicket, and directly before him the thorns were starting to agitate. Their malevolent clicking sent a chill through Indigo and she turned to her companions.
“Esty, take both our hands, quickly!” Their fingers linked, Esty between Indigo and Forth. “We’ll only have a few seconds—now, run!”
They raced towards the sleepwalker, who gave no sign that he was aware of their presence, and as the black tunnel in the forest yawned open, Indigo made a grab for his sleeve. At sight of the gaping darkness, Esty’s courage suddenly faltered; she uttered a frightened whimper and tried reflexively to pull back, and for a precarious moment Indigo thought she’d lose her grip on their quarry. But then Forth lunged forward, snatching desperately at a handful of the man’s shirt. The lantern swung wildly as he tried to hold on to it and the walker together; the four of them swayed, teetered: then momentum carried them forward—and as the sleepwalker stepped into the tunnel that had opened like a devourer to welcome him, they plunged through the thorns in his wake.
“We’re through!” Forth’s cry was a hoarse yell of triumph. “We’ve done it, we’re—”
As though an entire world had opened its mouth and roared, a shattering tumult of noise hit them like a wall. Indigo reeled backwards, losing her contact with Forth and Esty as she jammed the heels of both hands against her ears in a frantic but useless effort to block out the din. Voices—thousands upon thousands of mad, unhuman voices, shrieking, howling, laughing, battering and buffeting her from all directions as she twisted wildly from side to side like a terrified animal in a trap. Her mouth was open but she made no sound; she could only gag and gasp. The titanic din rose to a crescendo and she fell on her knees, on her face, writhing blindly in the blackness.
“Stop! Oh, make it stop!” Someone else screeched close by her ear and she felt hands clawing at her. Indigo clung to her invisible companion, neither knowing nor caring who it was, and in the mindlessness of pain and shock she too began to cry out in protest.
And the appalling noise diminished. At first the change didn’t register on Indigo’s stunned brain, but suddenly a part of her that still hung frantically on to a vestige of reason realized that the howling din was receding. She could even hear her own voice through the tumult, and her screams broke off in a racking gasp as she struggled to raise herself from the ground. A hand pulled her up and in the darkness she made out the dim oval of Esty’s shocked face.
“Esty—” But she had no chance to say anything more before the appalling noise started to swell towards them again, roaring out of the blackness. Suddenly, a spark of angry memory fused with intuition in Indigo’s mind, and she realized what was happening. A trick—a warped trick, to stun the unwary, to cow them, to batter their minds—and she clasped Esty’s shoulders, shaking her violently.
“Shout!” Her voice was only just audible over the howling that rose like a tidal wave around them. “Esty, retaliate! Scream back at it—now, now!”
Esty didn’t comprehend, but she was too terrified to do anything but obey. They began to yell at the bellowing darkness, shrieking, screeching, hurling words, sounds, anything their lungs and throats could muster, against its appalling onslaught. For a hideous moment Indigo thought she’d been wrong, and that the ploy wouldn’t work: but then, perceptibly, the noise began to ebb once more.
“Keep shouting!” She howled the words with all her strength. “Don’t stop; whatever you do, don’t stop!”
They screamed like banshees in shrill disharmony. Now Esty too was beginning to understand, and her voice took on a furious edge as indignant anger replaced her fear. Twice the howling tried to swell again, but their cries beat it back: then there was a third voice joining with theirs, as Forth, belatedly realizing what was afoot, added his yells to lend them more power. And finally came the moment when Indigo realized that all other sound had ceased.
She held up her hands, and as their cries fell away there was litter silence. It lasted only a moment before Esty succumbed to a fit of coughing and turned aside, thumping a clenched fist against her own breastbone and swearing volubly between the racking spasms.
Indigo rocked back on her h
eels, shoulders heaving as she regained her breath. When she was recovered enough to speak, she looked up and said, in a weak but heartfelt voice, “Thank you!”
Esty gave one last, convulsive cough, then wiped her mouth and raised her head to meet Indigo’s eyes. “Great Mother!” she said hoarsely. “I promise I’ll never complain of having to sing for too long again!”
The spark of humor was grotesque in the circumstances, but none the less Indigo felt tension ebb a little. “Lucky for us that we discovered in time how to stop it,” she said.
“Lucky for us that you knew what to do, you mean.” Esty rubbed at her sore throat, then her hand fell away. “How did you know?”
Indigo hunched her shoulders and looked around her. Though the darkness was intense, she thought that she could just make out faint differences in the shades of blackness, the suggestions of tall trees crowding about them. There was grass beneath them, peculiarly dry but grass nonetheless. That much, at least, was physically real and stable. And by good fortune they seemed to have stumbled clear of the thorns …
“I didn’t know,” she admitted. “It was simply an intuition. But,” she shivered, “I’ve seen something like this world before. It didn’t look the same, but it had the same feel, the same atmosphere. It was a world of illusions; and I learned there how dangerous illusions can be. Then, when the noise struck us, I thought, even if this isn’t real, it could still drive us insane or worse, and I was too terrified to do anything but scream.”
“And when you screamed, it began to fade,” Forth said thoughtfully.
“Yes. That was what gave me the idea, the hope. I was trying to turn it back on itself—to reply to it, but matching illusion with reality.” Her eyes hardened. “I was real. It wasn’t. That was what I told myself. I was real.”
“And it worked.” Forth let out a soft, hissing breath.
Nocturne Page 10
