Charlotte could still hear the chanting, but she could also hear the screeching and she shuddered, amazed at how much malice could be poured into one sound.
Tar’sel emerged from the water, spluttering and coughing up water.
‘Is there a little something you forgot to tell me?’ Charlotte panted.
‘Vorla bad, Nivasi badder.’ Tar’sel smiled weakly, his lungs on fire.
‘Just because I am so grateful we are still alive, I’m going to let you have that,’ Charlotte replied, gratefully filling her lungs with the sweet night air.
The eerie chanting still drifted through the air and Charlotte felt brave enough to look into the water. The Nivasi were still there circling, their eyes as full of hate as ever, but somehow they seemed unable to come near. Except one: a beautiful woman sat on the beach with them, one foot in the water and her verdigris hair wrapped round her like a sari. The rainbow colours Charlotte had seen in the water clearly came from this being and they still pulsed through the river from where her foot was submerged.
‘I apologise for my kin but you had better go now.’
‘You’re not like them.’ Charlotte knew she was stating the obvious but it was all her water-addled brain could manage right now. The woman laughed and it sounded like a wind chime made of seashells.
‘I am Asrai. We are quite distant relations,’ the woman offered as explanation. ‘When you hear the song of my sisters you will be safe in the water, though I would recommend you stay on land for the time being.’
With this, the woman stood up and walked into the river. As soon as her hair floated around her shoulders she dived, disappearing from view.
Tar’sel had managed to retrieve the travel packs and handed her the smallest. ‘Well, I think we should be following her advice. You alright to walk?’
Charlotte nodded. Swimming had been surprisingly easy but walking was a completely different kettle of fish. Being in someone else’s body was harder than Charlotte thought it would be. Anya’s body was strong but Charlotte moved like a robot, unable to make the foreign limbs respond to her commands without a lot of effort. She still had to consciously think about every move and now she was getting tired.
‘This is no good,’ Charlotte spluttered, collapsing to the ground. ‘I can’t go another step. You should have had Edessa for this, she would have been dancing by now.’
Tar’sel gave her a sympathetic look; he was tired himself and glad of an excuse to stop. He was silently quite impressed; she’d done a lot better than she realised and they were already well over halfway. The twin moons were both full and bathing the land in a silver glow but they were now hanging low in the sky and a cool breeze played through the tall grass of the plains warning of a storm brewing. The vast lakes of Morsea’a gleamed behind them. On the horizon the snow covered tops of the Zolt mountain range reared up over rainforest. At its heart lay the Mountain of Mourne, where they would find the entrance to the city of the Vorla.
‘We need to be off the plains before sunrise.’
‘Can’t we camp here? It’s as good a place as any.’
‘Not if you want to live, this is Rheadak country.’
Tar’sel noticed the sky was swiftly getting lighter; they had better move fast. Far to their left were a herd of the giant Rheadak asleep on the plain, but Tar’sel knew they wouldn’t be for long.
‘We have to move now,’ he said, gathering their things. ‘It’s really not that far, then we can rest.’
Charlotte concentrated, and stood up slowly. She seemed to be getting the hang of it which made her feel a lot better, and with renewed energy she followed Tar’sel towards a jagged cliff face.
‘We just need to get to the top of that then we can stop. They won’t follow us there.’
‘Can’t we just build a hide?’
‘This is my world, Charlotte. Please, trust me.’
An ear-shattering roar made them spin round to see the Rheadak groggily stretch their wings as tendrils of light snaked over the horizon.
‘Stand still,’ Tar’sel hissed. ‘They probably haven’t seen us yet. We’ll wait to see which direction they go,’ Tar’sel reassured Charlotte, but his heart sank as first one, then another of the Rheadak staggered to their feet and swivelled their long necks in their direction. A second roar and they started to trot, then gallop towards them.
‘RUN!’ Tar’sel screamed, pointing towards the river.
‘But the Nivasi…?’
‘I’d rather take my chances with them right now,’ Tar’sel panted, leading the way towards the river and a sparse covering of trees and scrub. He could feel the vibration of the Rheadaks’ heavy footfall and could tell they were gaining ground. He allowed himself to look back to judge their distance, just in time to see Charlotte fall.
She’s not going to make it, he thought.
Desperately, Tar’sel scrambled around in the dirt for something he could use as ammunition as he circled away from Charlotte and back towards the bottom of the cliff. His hand fell on a Matuse seed pod, jagged, heavy and full of acid; perfect! He took aim with his sling and fired. The seed pod met its mark, shattering on impact right between the eyes of the first Rheadak. The huge creature faltered, swayed, then fell like a stone, sending a tremor through the dry earth causing the others to stop and look towards Tar’sel. The largest let out a deafening roar, he’d got their attention now!
‘K’hul!’
Tar’sel ran like the wind, doing his best to dodge the lashing, razor-sharp tongues of the angry Rheadak. A blow to his shoulder sent him crashing head over heels to the ground with blood flowing down his arm. Something soft cushioned his fall and he was so grateful he didn’t look to see what it was, he could barely move. It wasn’t till the wide leaves of the Matuse plant sprang closed around him that he realised he wasn’t out of danger yet.
The Rheadak were confused, their prey had disappeared. He could hear them padding around outside. The mature leaves were thick enough to shield him from sight but one swipe of their tongue would cut the plant in two. Tar’sel’s heart was in his mouth and beating so hard he was sure they would hear. He closed his eyes and prayed. The acid sap of the flesh-eating plant began to ooze from the pores in the leaves and Tar’sel could feel it burning his skin; if he didn’t fight his way out soon he wouldn’t have the strength, but he couldn’t be sure the Rheadak had gone.
‘Tar’sel! Tar’sel?’
Her voice was low but full of fear. Taking his hunting knife he plunged it into the flesh of the plant and cut it open. He didn’t have the energy to weave.
‘Tar’sel!’
He was in a terrible mess. Charlotte somehow knew what this plant was; she also knew she must act quickly.
The river was close by and Charlotte managed to half carry, half drag him to the water’s edge. Bathing his skin in the cold water, she washed away all traces of the acid and dressed his shoulder with the mugwort and dock leaves that grew nearby. Starting a fire, she made a broth of the roots from her pack and fresh mussels, as well as bread from orris grain. She didn’t know how she knew to do all this, it must be muscle memory in Anya’s body taking over, but she was glad for it.
She couldn’t believe he had risked his life to save hers and she hugged him. Tar’sel flinched in his sleep and Charlotte cringed; she had forgotten about his shoulder. When Tar’sel slowly came round, she fed him some of the cooling broth.
‘I see you’ve got used to Anya’s body,’ Tar’sel croaked with humour in his voice.
‘There’s nothing like a Rheadak licking at your heels for motivation,’ Charlotte laughed. ‘But… I don’t understand how I knew what to do with you.’
‘Information stays in the body and mind; it’s only the consciousness that moves,’ Tar’sel replied, rather cryptically. Charlotte wasn’t sure she understood what he meant, but she nodded in agreement anyway.
*
The vortex was soon ahead of Edessa, the point where she had entered, and she was grateful. It ha
d been a long night.
To say Asrai was flighty was being generous and it had taken a lot to enlist her help in saving Charlotte but now Edessa could rest easy. Charlotte’s safety was secured – until she reached the home of the Vorla at least.
Without warning, Edessa felt as if her guts had been plunged into a bucket of ice. Red-hot pain shot up her arms as fingers touched her skin and nausea began to build in her throat. A shadow slithered across the ground with a life of its own – red electricity crackling at its heart.
Edessa screamed as she fought to break free from what lay before her, but the thing swallowed the sound. She suddenly felt herself falling before a vice-like grip closed around her neck and pulled. Her vision blurred and darkness descended.
Edessa’s body twitched violently in the hospital bed and a word rasped in her throat as she exhaled a final breath.
‘Raa…niiiii.’
In room 11 of the Crankshaw Wing a heart monitor let out a monotone warning as Edessa Stone flat-lined.
Rani Johari
Tar’sel’s wounds were beginning to heal but more importantly, the toxins were starting to leave his system. Anya’s healing herbs were working, but they were moving far too slowly and having to stop every half hour. This was going to add another precious day to their journey.
‘There has to be a better way, Tar’sel, we need to speed up,’ Charlotte panted from the exertion of having to support him as they walked.
‘Says she in the borrowed body.’
‘Exactly my point, even I’m moving faster than you,’ Charlotte retorted.
‘So what do you suggest? You don’t have the strength to carry me.’
‘This river, it leads right to the mountains, doesn’t it?’
‘Hai, more or less,’ Tar’sel winced in pain as he shifted his weight away from Charlotte.
‘We could try a barge? How long would it take to make another boat?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Not long but we need the right bark and… well, I’m not sure I fancy risking being drowned again.’
‘Asrai promised we would be safe so long as we can hear the singing.’ They listened carefully; it was still there, quiet but distinct.
‘OK let’s do it, but Anya’s boats are g’ami.’
‘Fine, if yours are better then you build, I’ll pull.’
Charlotte felt better when they were finally underway again. Tar’sel was asleep and all that could be heard was the sound of whooshing water as the little boat ploughed through the gentle current and Charlotte’s footsteps as she towed it along from the shore. The bletchan vine straps were strong and comfortable and the load was lighter than she expected. They were making good time and should make the foothills by nightfall, though there were already two ghostly white moons in the sky. Charlotte found she knew exactly which one was which and all the stars as well. Anya’s knowledge again.
Charrrrlooootte. The voice was so quiet she thought her ears were playing tricks on her.
Loooottieeeee. There was no mistaking it this time, Edessa… but how?
You need to sleep, sister; you’ll need your wits about you to deal with the Manush de Bar. Charlotte had to admit she was flagging.
Edessa, where are you? There was no response and Charlotte wondered if she was going crazy.
Get in the boat, sister, we will carry you.
We, Charlotte thought; her suspicious side was arguing that this was folly but she could feel it in her bones that she should do as the voice said. Trouble was, these were not her bones and she was pretty sure it wasn’t Edessa’s voice. Anya’s knife was instinctively in her hand the moment she heard the rustle in the reeds.
‘Hail to Charlotte of Stone.’ A Nivasi gleamed in the growing moonlight. ‘We are to carry you.’
‘Not likely after the stunt your last lot pulled,’ Charlotte replied, anxiously pulling the boat onto the nearest gravel beach.
‘Please, do not judge us by their foolishness, The Morrigan already punishes them.’ Charlotte froze at the name.
‘She is here?’
Nivasi laughter tinkled; there were at least three of them. ‘She is everywhere and she has ordered that we assist you.’
Charlotte wondered how many times she was going to have to be in the debt of this strange woman she knew so little about – most of which was bad.
‘You need only worry if you do not succeed in your mission,’ the Nivasi said as if reading her thoughts. ‘Nothing is given without a price. The Rani does not give easily, not even to The Morrigan, but she thinks you may have a chance.’
‘You pull anything and I’ll have no issue using this, you know.’ Charlotte flashed the knife at them to reinforce the point as she stepped gingerly into the small boat, still amazed at how much weight it took.
‘Interesting that you feel you would have time to use it, Charlotte of Stone, especially while you are asleep, but if that comforts you, so be it.’
Charlotte could not suppress a shudder as she looked into the cold green eyes of the Nivasi; she sensed it had much experience of killing.
‘Why is The Morrigan helping me?’
‘She loves that tree,’ the Nivasi laughed again, ‘now sleep.’
Despite her misgivings and the bright sunlight that poured over the land now, Charlotte fell fast asleep as soon as her head touched the make-shift pillow of her carry pack and the boat sped along the Morsea’a River to the gateway of the Mountain of Mourne.
*
The twin moons were high in the sky and gleaming brightly again by the time Charlotte woke from the cold. The boat was not moving and there was no sign of the Nivasi but the mountains around her told her they had finally reached their destination. Without thinking, she built a fire and had a broth bubbling away as Tar’sel woke.
‘Smells good.’
‘Nearly ready too. You up to eating?’
‘You really don’t know me that well, do you,’ Tar’sel chuckled, but the innocent comment froze Charlotte to the spot. She didn’t know him very well at all and yet here she was, her life in his hands in a strange land. When had she become so impulsively stupid?
‘Here, this might help.’ Tar’sel handed her a parka and she realised she had been shaking.
‘So, what now?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Well,’ Tar’sel spoke through a mouthful of broth, ‘I guess we use the door.’
Charlotte turned to see a silver door shimmering in the moonlight where only solid rock had been a moment ago. She stared at the intricate designs carved into the silver; at its centre was the same Ogham symbol penned in Peter’s book – the symbol that had been haunting her every move. It seemed to be appearing all over the place at the moment. Brushing her hand over the familiar but meaningless lines, the door bubbled and melted into the rock to reveal a cave with a staircase to its rear, a purple glow lighting the way.
‘Seems we are expected,’ she whispered.
*
Charlotte was unsure how high up they had gone but the stairs seemed to go on forever and she had the unnerving feeling the rock was watching their every move. Snow sat in drifts in the open-air hall they now found themselves in and she was glad to be out of the tunnel despite the cold. The stark light of the salt crystal chandelier and lamps provided no heat and the snow covered a highly polished stone floor that was cut to resemble marble tiles. At the back of the hall a small flight of stairs covered in a black woollen carpet led into the heart of the mountain. Before them a group of Vorla sat on cushions and silk throws reading and painting. They seemed to be deep in conversation though their lips did not move. They were completely oblivious to Charlotte and Tar’sel, who were wondering what to do next when one of the Vorla rose to their feet and approached them.
Charlotte gasped; the Vorla had an imposing attitude not least of all because it was over seven feet tall. This figure appeared female with crystal fangs and obsidian eyes – both of which twinkled in the light. Her skin had the look and texture of veined marble; she actually looked as
if she was made of stone.
‘That is because I am. Liquid stone.’ Charlotte jumped and the figure smiled.
‘You have the curiosity of a Vorla,’ she continued, crossing her arms and giving a deep bow. ‘We have been expecting you. My name is Durga. You must excuse my kin.’ Durga gestured to the group who still had not acknowledged them. ‘We communicate using a method similar to what you call telepathy; most of them have forgotten how to use their physical voices. I, however, am a renegade.’
Durga studied Charlotte’s green skin, pointed ears and single dreadlock before turning her attention to Tar’sel. Charlotte could see the conflict in his eyes. Should he run or stand his ground? Durga stared into him for minutes before speaking again.
‘Your companion is not of this world even though she looks like kin.’
‘My… my sister… she…’
‘An inter-dimensional body swap? Interesting.’ Durga’s eyes widened.
Charlotte jumped in spite of herself as the Vorla moved towards her again. ‘Stay calm,’ she repeated to herself over and over.
‘Reveal your true form, traveller,’ Durga commanded.
The Vorla lowered her face to Charlotte’s and stared deep into her eyes. Those black, pupilless eyes for some reason filled her with terror but she could not look away. After a moment the smile on Durga’s face disappeared and she backed away with a face like thunder.
‘Who are you?’ she hissed.
‘I… I’m Ch… Charlotte… Stone,’ she added the surname as an afterthought, though she doubted it would earn her any brownie points. The Vorla’s eyes flashed dangerously and Charlotte was all too aware of the sharp fangs protruding over the bottom lip but Durga merely turned on her heel and headed towards the stairs.
‘Come,’ she barked and Charlotte and Tar’sel followed, having to jog to keep up, which Charlotte was finding a struggle. It must be the altitude, she thought. How high were they?
Charlotte Stone and the Children of the Nymet Page 21
