Jane Doe and the Key of All Souls

by Jeremy Lachlan

  ‘Hickory,’ I shout, ‘get up! Arm yourself.’ He gets to his knees, looks at the bones scattered around him. ‘Yes,’ I shout, ‘grab a big one. A leg bone or – what are you doing?’

  The chump just sat back down.

  Violet kicks and squirms in Yaku’s arms. Shakes his hand away from her mouth and shouts, ‘If Hickory dies, John dies,’ but I can barely hear her over the roar of the crowd. Elsa doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. I can tell she’s torn, though, and that’s all that matters.

  Problem is, a guy near Violet and Yaku can see it, too. A weedy white man with a long blade strapped to his waist. A blade he’s unsheathing.

  ‘No, no, no,’ I say.

  The Gorani’s pacing up and down the far wall of the pit now, growing more panicked by the second, and Hickory’s just sitting there, doing nothing.

  The weedy man’s getting ready to toss the blade.

  ‘Elsa,’ I shout. ‘Stop him – that guy there!’

  But it’s too late. The blade flies through the air and falls down, down, down, landing right between Hickory and the Gorani in the centre of the pit. The crowd roars. The Gorani glances from the blade to Hickory and back again, calculating the distance, assessing the risks, crouching low, getting ready to pounce. Hickory stares at the blade, too, but doesn’t move a muscle. And that’s when I really get scared. When it really sinks in. He isn’t even gonna try for it.

  Hickory Dawes wants to die.

  INTO THE PIT

  I’m not sure when I get the bright idea to jump into the pit. One second I’m standing on the edge, shouting at Hickory, and the next I’m leaping, dropping, hitting the ground hard and rolling, diving for the blade before the Gorani gets there first. Somehow I make it, too. Snatch it up, spin around and skid to a halt with the blade held high. Piece of cake.

  Or maybe not.

  I haven’t thought this through. The Gorani may be weak, but it’s still twice my size.

  The tribespeople wave their arms and shake their fists. They’re so damn loud I can barely hear myself think. Even the bloody kids are joining in.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Hickory croaks.

  ‘Saving your skin,’ I say. ‘Get up.’ My hands are shaking. The blade’s heavier than it looks. I keep it aimed at the Gorani’s chest, higher and higher as it stands as tall as it can. ‘Feel free to help me out, by the way.’ The Gorani takes a step closer. ‘Anytime now.’ I scramble back by Hickory’s side. The Gorani bares its teeth and shrieks at us, and that’s when something clicks. I hate this place. I’m sick of this tribe, this world. I’ve come too far to die in a stinking hole. ‘Ugh, screw it …’

  I shift my stance, hold the blade high above my head, and scream my guts out.

  And it works. It actually works.

  The Gorani backs down and cowers against the wall, head shaking in its three-fingered hands. The crowd cheers, and before long they’re clapping as one. Chanting something, too. I can’t understand what they’re saying, but I don’t need to. They were promised blood.

  This is a battle to the death.

  The Gorani stares at me, bony chest heaving. I should want to kill it, even if it did flee Roth’s army. How many of its kind chased us through the Manor? They put us in chains. Would’ve killed us if Roth told them to. It’s a monster. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Hickory shrugs at me. Elsa has this fascinated, hungry look on her face. Yaku’s scowling – big surprise. Violet’s no longer struggling in his arms. She’s just standing there, watching me.

  Do it, her eyes are saying. You don’t have a choice.

  IwalktowardstheGorani,handstrembling. Adjust my grip on the blade. This should be easy. One swing and it’s done. One fell swoop and we’re free.

  But it isn’t easy. This isn’t like the time on the train, when we were fighting and fleeing for our lives. This is up close and personal. No masks. No guns. I can see the fear in the creature’s eyes. It’s so helpless, so weak. It was forced to fend for its life, but gave up the second I pushed back. It just wants to get out of here, like me.

  What if it just wants to go home?

  Clap. Clap. Clap. Kill. Kill. Kill.

  Hot tears prick my eyes. I cry out and bring the blade down as hard as I can, and it finds its mark, straight and true: lodged into the dirt by my side, blade-first.

  The crowd goes quiet. I step back, breathing hard.

  Everyone’s staring down at me, wondering what I’ll do next. Elsa’s wide-eyed, exhilarated. Had a change of heart. She glances around the dome, but doesn’t tell the guards to let us out. Instead, she nods at the guy who shoved Hickory into the pit, and he aims his gun at me. A few others in the crowd do, too. Four guns in total, locked and loaded, ready to fire.

  ‘Fine,’ I yell, ‘you wanna test me?’

  I yank the bandage from my wounded hand.

  ‘Jane?’ Hickory mutters behind me. ‘Bad idea.’

  ‘What do you care?’ I mutter back. ‘You were happy to die two seconds ago.’ I hold my hand up so everyone can see the gash in my palm, and shout, ‘You want blood? Let us go, right now, or I swear to the gods I’ll tear this place apart.’

  An uneasy murmur ripples through the crowd. Maybe our story has spread. Maybe they know I derailed a train. Maybe they know about the Manor corridor I tore apart to stop the river creatures.

  ‘Let us go. All of us. Hickory, Violet, me …’ I glance down at the Gorani. Feel responsible for the damn thing now. ‘It, too. You help us get the second key, get us back to the Manor, and you don’t lay a finger on us ever again.’

  I should probably cause a little quake to show them I mean business, but I’m exhausted and afraid. Hickory’s right. This is a bad idea. We’re surrounded by rock. If the power gets away from me, I’ll crush us all. I can’t do it. But the crowd doesn’t know that.

  I clench my fist and stand as tall as I can. Bold. Confident. Like someone who negotiates their way out of death pits every goddamn week. ‘I’m the third key, which means you have to do what I say.’ I nod at the men with guns and glare at Elsa. ‘All of you.’

  The ghost of a grin curls the edges of her lips. She translates what I said. Hams it up a little, too. Points at the pit and the dome, makes a few crumbling, tearing gestures. When she’s finished, the crowd stares at me, and I wonder if they’re about to flee for their lives.

  But then, one by one, they smile.

  ‘Child of the Makers,’ Elsa shouts, ‘welcome at last,’ and the crowd erupts into applause.

  The Gorani looks from me to the blade and back again, confused. Yaku releases Violet. She kicks at a bundle of wood and rope sitting on the edge of the pit, and a rope ladder unfurls down the wall. I slip the bandage back around my palm, wincing, and turn back to Hickory.

  He looks weird with his hair chopped off. His skull’s covered in nicks where the shears cut too close. His black eyes are glazed. I don’t know what to say. Why didn’t you fight? Nice loincloth? I settle on a simple, ‘You look terrible,’ and reach down to help him.

  ‘Get away from me,’ Hickory says, swiping away my hand. ‘I’m done. We’re through.’

  He tries to stand. Staggers and sways. Then he hits the floor like a sack of yams, out cold.

  AKI

  If you told me a week ago I’d end up stranded in a world of exploding shipwrecks, desert tribes and dirty bloody death pits, I’d have suggested you have a lie-down. If you told me a couple of days ago I’d save a stinking Leatherhead, I’d have laughed in your face.

  But here we are.

  We tried to get rid of the damn thing – took it out to the top of the cliffside stairs and told it to run – but it wouldn’t leave my side. Just blinked down at me and click-clacked its throat, softly, like a purring cat. Can’t say I blame it, really. The Gorani knows the score. Saw the tribespeople keeping their distance as we made our way through the tunnels. It knows they won’t hurt it so long as I’m around, but if it set off down the path alone? Who’s to say Yaku o
r some other chump with a gun wouldn’t get an itchy trigger finger?

  Thing’s got smarts, I’ll give it that.

  I decided to let it stay.

  ‘I’m just saying,’ Violet says now, ‘maybe you didn’t think this through.’

  We’re standing in our new quarters while the healers take care of Hickory in the next room. This main chamber’s kinda nice. Pillows. Rugs. An open cliffside balcony looking out over the desert. The suns must be nearing the horizon because the light’s gone deep gold. The torches in here have already been lit. The Gorani’s bent over a table overflowing with food, chowing down three-fingered fistfuls of cured meat and flatbread.

  ‘I was stuck in a pit surrounded by a bloodthirsty mob, Violet. Of course I didn’t think it through. I just –’

  ‘Decided to adopt one of Roth’s minions.’

  ‘I didn’t adopt it. And it’s an ex-minion, remember?’

  ‘Oh, that’s okay, then.’

  The tribe’s still celebrating all through the tunnels and up in the main dome: pounding drums, singing songs, making the mountain thrum. They may have missed out on a bloodbath, but at least I gave them a good show. Predictably, Elsa disappeared into the crowd before we’d even clambered out of the pit. I keep expecting her to show up, hoping she’ll apologise and spill the beans. Deep down, I know that’s never gonna happen. She’s probably drunk or passed out in a corner somewhere. If I want answers, I’ll have to get them myself. And I will. Soon.

  But first, our grubby new roommate.

  ‘It’s only for one night,’ I say. ‘Once we’re back on the road, I’m sure it’ll go … wherever it was going when it got caught. Besides, I don’t think it wants to hurt us.’

  ‘Yeah? What are you basing that on, exactly?’

  I shrug. ‘It would’ve done it already.’ He, I tell myself. He would’ve done it already. It’s clearly a guy. These Arakaanians really need to develop a better loincloth.

  The Gorani swipes a fruit platter to the floor.

  ‘Oi,’ I shout, ‘stop making a mess.’ He freezes, black-beady eyes fixed on mine, a strip of meat dangling from his mouth. Slowly, he sucks the strip into his mouth like a wriggling worm, swallows it whole, and backs away from the table. He’s so tall his head nearly scrapes the ceiling. I step closer, ignoring a grumble of protest from Violet. ‘If you’re gonna stay the night, you have to be quiet. And you’re not allowed to eat us. Okay?’

  The Gorani blinks at me.

  ‘You realise it can’t understand you, right?’ Violet mumbles.

  ‘Maybe not,’ I say, ‘but I’m damn sure he can read my body language.’ I take another step forward. ‘You’re not gonna hurt us, are you?’ He click-clacks his throat. I force a quick smile. ‘I’m gonna pretend that was a no. Um. You got a name?’ I hold a hand to my chest. ‘I’m Jane.’ I point at Violet. ‘That’s Violet.’ I repeat the motions over and over. ‘Jane, Violet, Jane, Violet.’

  ‘Jane –’

  ‘Violet,’ I say, ignoring her. ‘See?’ I point at the Gorani. ‘And you? What’s your name? Jane, Violet –’ It works. He rattles off a string of clicks and clacks and these strangled little gargles that make me want to clear my throat. I can’t make head or tail of it, but I do catch one sound at the end that’s different from the others. ‘Aki,’ I say. ‘Can I call you Aki?’

  The Gorani tilts his head.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes. Nice to meet you, Aki.’ I point at the corner. ‘Now, would you mind just … standing over there for a while, please?’

  Amazingly – without a single click or clack of protest – he stands in the corner.

  ‘There,’ I say to Violet, ‘see? He’s okay.’

  ‘You gave it a name. I can’t believe you gave it a name.’

  ‘Him. I gave him a name.’

  Violet points at Aki. ‘You stay there. I mean it. Come any closer and I’ll toss you over the balcony.’ And to me, under her breath, ‘We’ll have to sleep in shifts tonight.’

  Aki just stares at us. At me.

  ‘Probably a good idea.’ I nod at the curtain. ‘We have to keep watch on Hickory anyway.’

  It took three men to lug him from the pit. Two to carry him in here. Elsa must’ve given everyone strict instructions to look after him before she split. Sure, I caught one of the healers spitting into his water before we were shooed away, but apart from that they’ve been swell.

  ‘Reckon he’ll be okay?’ I ask Violet.

  ‘He’ll live,’ she says.

  ‘That’s the thing. I’m not so sure he wants to.’

  Feels strange to admit this, but the idea of losing him scares me, and not just because we need him. Truth is, I’ve come to think of him as a friend. A crappy, lying, backstabbing friend, sure, but a pal nonetheless. I don’t want him to die. But that look he gave me in the pit.

  I’m done, he said. We’re through.

  ‘He didn’t fight,’ I say. ‘He didn’t even try. Why?’

  Violet wanders over to a heap of pillows in the corner, plumps down and sighs. ‘Because he finally knows the truth. You weren’t there the other night, when Elsa interrogated us. When she told us about what – I mean, who you really are. Hickory looked like he’d had his heart ripped out. At the time, I thought it was shock, but now I wonder …’

  ‘Wonder what?’

  Violet sighs. ‘I think he was upset because he’d found out his big plan to destroy the Manor was never going to work. He can’t claim the Cradle for himself. The third key isn’t waiting for him on the foundation stone. There’s no ancient machine in there anyone can use to channel the Sea. He’s given up because the power lies within you, and he knows he’ll never be able to control it. It proves that … well –’

  ‘He was always gonna turn on us,’ I say, ‘in the end.’

  You’re wrong about me, he told me on the river, back in the Manor, but we were right all along. He isn’t our friend. He isn’t on our side. He was only ever helping himself.

  ‘I know you think we need him,’ Violet says, ‘but this changes everything. We can’t trust him. If he wants to stay here and die, I say we let him. Leave him behind.’

  I feel sick. Sure, I’m angry with Hickory. Hell, part of me wants to drag him out of bed, kick him in the nuts and toss him off the balcony. But leaving him behind just doesn’t feel right.

  ‘The guy was trapped inside the Manor for two thousand years, Violet. Do you really think it kept him alive all that time just so he could give up now?’

  ‘He helped us get here,’ she says. ‘Maybe that’s enough.’

  ‘I know he has a bigger part to play in all this,’ I say. ‘I can feel it.’

  The hustle and bustle in the next room intensifies. Clay pots rattle, medicine bottles chink. The curtain’s swept aside and the women hurry from the room, eager to rejoin the party. Most of them stare at Aki as they go, tutting under their breath. The woman who fixed my hand shoots me a quick, kindly smile. Then the guard outside closes the door. We’re all alone at last.

  ‘Stay there,’ I tell Aki, pointing again. ‘Um. Please.’

  He click-clacks at me, but obeys.

  Me and Violet step into the next room and pull the curtain closed behind us. Hickory’s sprawled on his back in bed, out cold: sponged down, bandaged up, wheezing with every breath. The healers have done a good job on his wounds. His bedside table’s scattered with pots of oils, pastes and powders. A few wooden spoons to stir them. There are two more beds in here, too. Another open balcony and a few flickering torches. It’s cosy. Outside, the golden light’s turning a deep blood-red.

  I’m not sure what to say, what to do. I swear I can hear the cogs ticking over in Violet’s brain, weighing up the pros and cons of letting him stick around.

  ‘I can’t imagine how terrible it was for him,’ she says, ‘stuck inside the Manor all those years. But wanting to tear apart the very foundation of the Otherworlds? Wanting to destroy everything and everyone in existence? What could drive so
meone to do that?’

  An image pops into my head. Hickory, sitting behind me in the boat, staring down at the water. He looked so lonely, humming that sad, sad song.

  A song about a girl.

  ‘Love,’ I say, surprising myself as much as Violet.

  ‘What?’

  A cool breeze blows through the balcony door. I pull Hickory’s blanket up to his chest and feel his forehead, just like I used to do with Dad. At least he doesn’t have a fever. ‘When me and Hickory were in the forest – before it tried to eat us, I mean – I started singing about coconuts.’

  ‘Why were you singing about coconuts?’

  ‘Um, because coconuts are delicious and nutritious, and – look, it doesn’t matter why. The point is, while I was singing about coconuts, Hickory started singing about a girl called Farrow. He told us he can’t remember anyone back on Bluehaven, but I think he can. I think that’s why he wants to destroy the Manor. He blames it for taking him away from her.’

  ‘Forgive me for not weeping,’ Violet says. ‘If what you say is true, it makes him even more dangerous.’ She puts her hands on her hips. ‘I’m telling you, the guy’s a ticking time bomb.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I say, and sigh. ‘Look, we can ditch him when all this is over, but until then … we’ve gotta keep him close. He’s coming with us, Violet.’

  ‘Fine,’ she huffs. ‘But we’re going to have enough trouble as it is dealing with Elsa. The woman’s lost it.’

  That look on Elsa’s face when I held out my hand.

  That ghost of a smile.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.’

  ‘How do we know she’s telling the truth about the second key?’ Violet asks. ‘What if she’s stalling? Taking us on a wild goose chase because she lost the real key years ago?’

  ‘She’s pretty determined to get to Asmadin.’ I fight back a yawn. Sit on the bed next to Hickory’s and gaze out at the reddening sky. ‘I’m sure the key’s there.’