The Jasper Forest

by Julia Gray

  It was nearly dark outside, and Terrel thought better of pursuing Amie. His news could wait for another day. Ever since he'd realized that time was no longer such a

  pressing problem, he'd had no more thoughts about trying to leave just yet.

  There was no question of making another attempt at night - his blood ran cold at the very thought - and he was convinced that even if the villagers would let him go during the day, the fog would not. The cloud layer separating the valley from the outside world would remain an impenetrable barrier until the time was right.

  Knowing that he had to solve this problem himself, with no guidance from Alyssa and the ghosts, had concentrated his mind effectively. And he also felt a personal responsibility now. His friendships with Esera and Amie meant that he cared about what happened to them and their community. And though he still hated the lack of sun and sky, he had even begun to appreciate the place itself a little. He was determined to earn his title, to prove his worth as the Messenger.

  But this was presenting him with an apparently insoluble dilemma. Now that he believed the valley's curse stemmed from the elemental in Talazoria, he had another reason for wanting to make contact with the creature. Indeed, it might be the only way to restore the babies to health. Unfortunately, as the Messenger, he was forced to stay in the valley. He couldn't leave until he healed them. And he couldn't heal them unless he left. His unknown road seemed to have come to a dead end.

  'There must be another way,' he muttered, talking as much to himself as to Esera.

  'You'll find it,' she said loyally.

  'It'd better be soon, then,' he replied. 'Parina hasn't got much time left.'

  They were taking their morning walk together, a habit they had fallen into.

  However, there was a greater purpose about today's stroll. Terrel had already checked on her baby's dreaming several times, each in a different place, and had found several minor variations - but no comfort. Now the two friends had returned to the lakeside, one of their regular haunts.

  'I always feel calm here,' Esera said, looking out over the expanse of dark water. 'Peaceful.'

  The day was the brightest Terrel had experienced in the valley. Although the layer of cloud above was as thick and unyielding as ever, the air below was relatively free of mist, and they had been able to see much further than normal. The air even felt warmer than usual.

  'It is nice here, isn't it?' Terrel agreed.

  'Mmm,' Esera murmured. 'Romantic'

  Terrel was mortified to find heat rising in his cheeks. He tried to turn his face away, but - true to form - she noticed anyway.

  'There's so much colour in your face already, I don't see why you need any more,' she remarked, making matters worse. 'Don't worry,' she added, smiling.

  'Just because I let you hold my hand doesn't mean I have any designs on you.'

  'What would you want with me anyway?' he said, trying to laugh off his embarrassment.

  'There's more to a man than his physical appearance,' she told him.

  That's easy for you to say, Terrel thought. Esera seemed beautiful to him now, in spite of her pallid complexion. But he kept this opinion to himself.

  'And I bet you'd make a much better father for this baby than its real one,'

  she added.

  Terrel was astonished by her comment, and he had no idea whether she was being serious or not. He blushed again, hating the way he was betrayed by his own skin.

  'Oh dear,' Esera said, looking at him. 'Poor Terrel. I'm sorry. Perhaps we shouldn't come to the lake any more.' Then she frowned. 'What is it? What's the matter?'

  Terrel was lost in a memory that had been summoned by her casual words. All of a sudden his awkwardness was forgotten, and he reached out and grabbed her hand.

  'Come on,' he said, setting off along the shore and pulling her along with him.

  'Where are we going?' she asked, laughing.

  'I'm going to take you out in one of the fishermen's boats,' he told her.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  'You want us to do what?' Tavia exclaimed.

  'It's not as crazy as it sounds,' Terrel replied. He was so excited he could hardly keep still.

  'I think you'd better explain why you believe this is a good idea,' Amie said calmly.

  Terrel and the elders were sitting around the outdoor table once more, but this time — at Terrel's request — the other villagers were all gathered there to hear what was being said. He wanted everyone to be part of the decision; if they agreed to his proposal, they would all be involved, one way or another.

  An extra bench had been provided for the more heavily pregnant women, but Esera was sitting next to Terrel, and was clearly enjoying her role as one of the central figures in the proceedings.

  Terrel gave the villagers a brief version of his reasoning about a curse that might have become embedded in the very ground of the valley, and told them why he thought this would affect only the unborn babies. For once he did not feel nervous or awkward speaking in front of so many people, even though he knew they were all hanging on his every word.

  'The only real clue we had about the nature of the curse,' he went on, 'was the fact that it seemed to vary in intensity, depending upon where you were in the valley - but it wasn't until Esera told me how she always felt calm and peaceful when she was near the lake that I began to get an idea. If I'm right, the curse was aimed not at you, but at the water - and the greatest concentration of water here is in the lake.'

  'But surely that would make the curse more powerful there,' Amie said.

  'You'd think so, but in fact the reverse is true. Don't forget, this force is coming from underground. So if someone is out on the lake, it would have to come through a considerable depth of water to reach them - and I don't think it can. When Hellin took Esera and me out in his boat this morning, I looked into her baby's dreams. They were peaceful for the first time - just as they ought to be.' He paused as a buzz of conversation ran around the gathering.

  'And how did you feel?' Amie asked Esera.

  'There was no real difference,' the girl explained. 'Except that for the first time in ages I wasn't worried. I was just calm and happy. I didn't know why until Terrel explained it to me.'

  'After that I wanted to be sure,' Terrel said, taking up the story again, 'so Hellin and I took each of the other five women out onto the lake in turn. The results were all the same. In themselves they didn't feel much change, but what I saw of the babies convinced me that their condition improved dramatically.'

  'So all this supposition rests on what you saw?' Amie commented. 'Nothing else?'

  'That's right,' Terrel admitted, 'but I'm sure what I saw was genuine.'

  'And he is the Messenger,' Liana added, her eyes bright with new hope.

  'Did the babies' illness return once they were back on land?' Amie asked.

  'Yes,' Terrel replied. 'Almost immediately.'

  'I'd be glad to go out on the boat again,' Esera offered, 'so Terrel can repeat his examination.'

  'Me too,' Parina added forcefully. 'I'm the one who's got the least time left.

  I'm already convinced the Messenger's instincts are correct, but if you want more proof, I'll do whatever you like.'

  'There's one more thing,' Terrel said. He had wondered whether to even mention this last point of his argument, and if he'd been in any other country he would probably have kept quiet. But all dreams were important to the people of Macul. 'I realized this morning that I'd been here before. In a dream. It was a long time ago, when I was many miles away from here.' In fact he'd been in a prison cell in Tiscamanita, wondering if he was going mad. 'At the time I thought it was just a scene from my imagination, but I know now that I saw this place - the dripping trees, the mist, the lake. I even saw some of you,'

  he added, glancing at the row of pregnant women. And you were in a large wooden house built upon the surface of a lake.' He did not add that the same dream had also contained other equally improbable images and land
scapes. That was something he didn't even want to think about at the moment. 'I think we have to try to build you that house.'

  'I think so too,' Esera stated boldly.

  'We all do,' Parina added in her role as spokeswoman for the other mothers-to-be.

  ''Can it be done?' Tavia asked, looking round at some of the faces in the crowd.

  It was Hellin, the fisherman who had become a ferryman for the earlier part of the day, who answered.

  'It can,' he stated simply, his gruff voice carrying the weight of knowledge.

  Tavia nodded, then glanced at each of the elders in turn.

  'Are we all agreed?' It was a rhetorical question by then, and received no answer. 'Then let's do it!'

  The rest of that day passed in a blur of activity. Hellin and his group of fellow craftsmen asked Terrel to join them, and they discussed a seemingly endless list of questions concerning the building of 'the hospice', as it was now called. This was the first time he'd had extensive dealings with any of the men of the valley, and because they all had vastly greater expertise in practical matters than he did, he felt completely out of his depth.

  Nevertheless, his opinion was sought frequently — and his contributions were listened to attentively.

  By an unspoken agreement, Hellin had assumed the role of coordinating the project, and Terrel worked with him most of the time. Others came and went, beginning various preliminary tasks or seeking out information needed by the planners. Several of the elders were involved too, and their advice was taken into account. Everyone in the village - even the children - seemed to be helping somehow, and Terrel marvelled at the way his original idea had galvanized the entire community.

  During the course of their discussions, it was agreed that Hellin and Terrel, with Esera's help, would choose the exact site for the hospice. The plan was for the three of them to take to the water in the fisherman's boat, and for Terrel to monitor the condition of Esera's baby while they were afloat, to see whether there was any advantage to one spot or another. The assumption was that the deeper the water below the hospice the better the protection would be, so the building should be as far from the shore as was possible within the bounds of practicality. It was also decided that it should float upon the surface of the water rather than rest on stilts driven into the bed of the lake. As Terrel pointed out, they wanted to try to avoid any direct contact between the hospice and the ground below. No one knew how the curse was transmitted, but if water was the barrier, then they did not want to leave any gaps in their shield. This arrangement would also have the advantage of mobility, as they'd be able to move the hospice from one place to another if they encountered any unexpected problems at the chosen site. They also had to decide how the building should be tethered to the shore. Any system of ropes would leave it at the mercy of wind and currents - gentle though they generally were - and would mean that the only way to approach or leave the hospice would be by boat. The alternative was to build a wooden walkway, which could be supported by stilts - at least for the first part of its length. If this was sturdy enough it would effectively anchor the hospice in place, and would allow the women - and anyone visiting them - to simply walk to and from the building.

  As for the size and design of the hospice itself, the only obvious criterion was that it had to be large enough to house six women, with scope for more if the experiment was successful. At Hellin's insistence, Terrel described as much as he could remember from his dream, but he deferred to the carpenters and boatmen when it came to deciding on details. It was already clear to him that the community possessed all the necessary skills to complete the project

  — and, more importantly, they were also displaying the enthusiasm and determination that would be needed to carry it through.

  At the same time, arrangements were put in place to begin gathering the necessary raw materials. It was obvious that, first and foremost, they were going to need a great deal of wood. Various groups were detailed to fell trees, ready for cutting and shaping, and two empty huts were to be taken apart, so that the planks and beams used in their construction could provide mature timber for the hospice. Some of the boatmen were detailed to gather the necessary oils and other substances needed to make the wood waterproof, while others agreed to take the pregnant women out onto the lake in their craft, so that they could spend as much time on the water as possible before their new abode was ready for them.

  As evening came, and darkness put an end to their frenetic activity, Terrel was feeling tired but elated. The plans were already much further advanced than he had expected. Even so, it was clear that building the hospice was going to be a major undertaking, and with Parina's baby due within a month, it was going to be a race against time. However, such was the spirit of optimism that Terrel felt all around him that he was sure it was a race they were going to win. And even though his physical limitations meant that he would not be able to help with the actual labour, it had already been made perfectly clear that the villagers regarded his part in the process as not only necessary but crucial. He had actually begun to feel like the Messenger.

  Imana often ate with him now, and it was during their meal that night that an innocent question from the girl drove a wedge of uncertainty into Terrel's burgeoning confidence.

  'When the hospice is finished, the women will spend as much time there as possible,' she said. 'That's right, isn't it?'

  Terrel nodded.

  'Ideally they'd spend all their time there while they're pregnant,' he said.

  'And possibly some time after their baby is born.'

  'So they'll be there at night?' Imana queried.

  'Yes. Of course.'

  'But the lake is outside the day-stone circle,' she said, sounding confused.

  'What about the darkness?'

  Terrel froze, a piece of nepp root halfway to his mouth.

  'I never thought of that.' If the women had to come ashore each night, the benefits of the hospice might be greatly reduced - or even lost altogether.

  'I'm sure you and the elders will sort something out,' Imana said blithely as she began to clear their plates away.

  Remembering his own unnerving experiences with 'the darkness', Terrel could only wish that he shared her faith in him.

  *

  After brooding for much of the night, Terrel went in search of Amie at first light. The villagers were already busy, and the boy dreaded having to tell the elder that all their efforts might be in vain. He found her organizing means of collecting and distributing food, but one look at his face convinced Amie that they needed to talk in private, and she led him to her own home. The rest of her family were already at work.

  'Imana's told me about the darkness,' Terrel began without preamble. 'The lake is outside the day-stone ring.'

  'Yes. I wondered about that.'

  'And you didn't say anything?' he said, amazed by her apparent calm.

  'This project has brought us all together,' Amie replied. 'Even if it doesn't work as well as you hope, it's got to be better than nothing. It's a relief just to be able to do something at last.'

  'But if the women are terrified of the darkness,' he protested, 'that might harm the babies.'

  'Then maybe we'll have to bring them ashore at night. Or we'll think of another solution.'

  'What other solution could there be?'

  'Perhaps the darkness doesn't affect the area over the lake,' she suggested.

  'Perhaps we'll find a way of counteracting it even if it does. We could reassure the women by having others stay there overnight before they do.'

  'Who would be willing to do that?'

  'I'd be happy to volunteer. So would Esera, I'd bet. And there'd be others.'

  'I could do it too,' Terrel offered, ashamed that he had not said as much immediately.

  'That would help,' Amie said, smiling. 'This is the Messenger's business, after all.'

  'We could have torches,' he said, becoming a little more enthusiastic now.

  'Fire bri
ngs its own dangers,' she pointed out, 'but it's worth considering.'

  'Perhaps I could stay out at the hospice with the women ... in another room or something. Do you think that would help?'

  'And perhaps some of their husbands could be persuaded to stay with them too.'

  'We'd better tell Hellin to make it bigger,' Terrel remarked.

  'You see,' Amie told him. 'It's not so bad when you start thinking about it.

  And if we fail, at least we'll know we've tried.'

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  After ten days of intensive activity, the hospice was declared ready for habitation. This in itself was a reason for celebration, and the fact that it occurred on a day already deemed propitious by the jasper - and which Terrel realized coincided with the full of the Red Moon - reinforced the general mood of optimism. There were still trials to be faced - not least the first night outside the day-stone circle - but an important step had been taken in the search for a cure to the babies' ills. The women and their escorts walked aboard their new home at midday, watched by the entire population of the valley. Terrel and Esera brought up the rear together, completing the slow-moving procession, and they stepped onto the walkway to a gradually swelling round of cheers, whistles and applause from the spectators.

  'You should turn round and take a bow,' Esera told him, grinning. 'Or wave, at least.'

  'Don't be silly. If I try that I'll probably fall in the water.' Although the walkway was protected by railings on either side, Terrel was not confident of his balance on the gently swaying boards. 'It wouldn't look too good if the Messenger drowned himself, would it?'

  'I'll save you,' Esera promised - and Terrel had the feeling that, pregnant or not, she would probably do just that.