Ari Goes To War: (The Adventures of Ari #2)

by P. J. Sky

  Her thoughts were interrupted when a huge figure in a black robe entered the grotto.

  The Morning Star.

  When Starla saw him, she shuddered.

  The moist skin that covered his big, bald head was so pale it was almost white, and so thin that Starla thought she could almost see right through it to the round form of his skull. His large, black eyes were sunk deep into their sockets and they glowed with a faint phosphorescence that was almost red and entirely inhuman. His nose was flared, nostrils upturned, as if he’d started existence on his hands and knees, and only later taught himself to walk.

  Liviana stood with her head dipped. The great man reached out with his long, spider-like fingers and placed his hand on her head.

  “You have done well, my child. For you, the reward will be very great.”

  When Liviana answered, her voice was almost a whisper. “Thank you, Master.”

  Starla’s skin began to prickle. Master, she thought. She called this man Master.

  The man grimaced, in a way that was almost a smile, baring sharp, razor-like teeth that glowed like pearls. He removed his hand and looked at Starla.

  “And now you too have come to me from the city.”

  A fresh shudder worked its way up Starla’s spine. Was this creature even human? She found herself drawn to those big, dark, phosphorescent eyes. They were like pools of water within which, deep down, something irresistible glowed. It was as if, if she just focused long enough, and looked deep enough, she might make out some jewel or treasure or some phosphorescent marine animal, glowing in the darkness, pricelessly rare and ultimately captivating.

  “The girl that bears the name of the heretic imposter, the Maker star.”

  The voice was smooth, like water on a stream, his words precise and deliberate and with little accent, as if he’d taught himself to speak. He spoke, and yet it was as if the process remained still new to him.

  “The… Morning Star?” The words fell from Starla’s mouth.

  The eyes widened. “It is I.”

  “I…”

  “Tell me child, what do you see?”

  And in the Morning Star’s eyes she saw her father, lying in his bed, propped up against the pillows, his face long and twisted. His was the face of a liar; a face that had lied to her since before she could remember. A face that had hidden, for so many years, the true fate of her mother. And something else, there was some other secret she sensed, buried in those eyes…

  “I see it too.”

  “But…” And Starla saw Ari, walking away into the desert, abandoning her completely. She saw Max, screaming at her from the platform on the dam, his guards shooting at her. She saw Janus, so eager to rekindle what they’d shared, and so desperate to use her to climb his way to the top. Never a thought for her and only for himself and the opportunities she could provide him.

  “This is the truth, my child.”

  Starla felt tears on her cheeks. She saw a man with snake tattoos. He rolled his jaw, lowered a pair of binoculars and smiled; a black aircraft curling through the air, a black smoke trail following it down.

  “This world is evil, wretched, and it cannot be saved. This is the truth. But just as I foresaw, fate has seen to bring us together. We are so close to the end now; this world has little time left. But together we shall ascend. When the moon eats the sun, we shall travel together into the stars.”

  Starla felt Liviana’s hand on her shoulder and she knew it all to be true. Deep inside her, a place she never realised had been so cold for so long began to thaw. She tasted salt in her mouth. And before she'd even realised, the Morning Star had gone, taking his red-robed guards with him, and they were alone in the grotto. And Starla began to sob.

  Chapter 21

  Ari watched the thin, morning light creep through the veiled doorway. She blinked away the glowing eyes, like two hot coals, that had penetrated her dark dreams. Now so close, she could feel the impending dread that came with returning to the mine. She could feel it in her dry throat, the heaviness in her gut and the tightening of her leg muscles.

  “Look out, look out, wherever you are, else the Bone Pointer’ll get ya.”

  She’d spent the night in one of the smaller domes. Inside the cavernous interior it smelt musty and old and, from first light, as the panels warmed, the metal skin began to creak.

  Close by, Keshia still slept, her breathing deep and steady.

  Ari reached into her pocket and pulled out the small, silver cross on its black leather cord. She leant across and slipped the cross into Keshia’s pocket.

  “Ya earned it, kid.”

  Keshia didn’t stir.

  Ari took one last look, then shuffled out of the dome and into the cool morning air. Keshia’s journey was now over. She could stay here. Ari could do the rest herself.

  Outside, the only movement was that of a scrawny dog with a shaggy brown coat and grey whiskers. When it saw her it stood, its three thin legs shivered, the fourth was only a stump, and it yawned and sniffed the air.

  “Yeah,” said Ari, “so wha’ are ya lookin’ at, dog?”

  The dog craned its head and watched her walk on by.

  From a tap beneath the shadow of a much larger dome, Ari filled the canteen Bina had given her. The dog moved towards her; half limp, half hop. Ari sighed.

  “All right, all right.”

  She took the bowl that sat by the tap and filled it with water. She pushed the bowl towards the dog.

  The dog looked at the bowl then back at Ari.

  “Well, I ain’t got nothin’ else for ya.”

  Ari took the long, white robe that Bina had given her and slipped it over her head. The robe covered her from head to toe. She raised the hood. The rim hung down low and heavy, almost hiding her face. It was ideal. The sleeves were long and the cuffs wide.

  Ari looked back at the dog. “So, do ya think it suits me?”

  The dog cocked its head. It gave out a short, high pitched whine.

  “Yeah, didn’t think so either.”

  As she climbed to the top of the hills behind the encampment, the big red sun was breaking over the peaks. When she looked back, the light radiated over the odd metal domes, these strange relics of another time, rusting in the desert like the discarded seashells of a withdrawn sea. And for some reason, Ari remembered another time when she’d looked back, to Cooper and her home in the cave that she’d never returned to. She had that same feeling now, as if she’d never return to this place.

  I have to come back for the kid, she thought. I’ve got a reason to come back here, I never had no reason to go back there though.

  Her eyes found the dome where Keshia still slept.

  She told herself, you’ll be right kid. Bina’s okay, she’ll see you right. But you ain’t got nothing to do with Starla and you ain’t got no past with the Bone Pointer. So it’s better off you stay out of this, I can handle it myself.

  She turned east, to the gentle slopes that flowed into a plateau of red dust and, far off, what looked like patches of green, and a column of grey smoke that curled upwards into the sky to threaten the rising sun.

  The mine.

  ∆∆∆

  Now that Ari knew that the column of smoke they’d been heading towards was actually the mine, she felt safer cutting across country, away from the road. There was no need to attract any unwanted attention. She tucked the hood over her head. She didn’t want to look like an outsider or a newcomer, she wanted to slip inside and look like she belonged.

  The going was easy, it was downhill for most of the way, and the red dust was a flat, fine gravel with few rocks or cracks. All the while, the column of smoke loomed like a menacing grey cloud, growing larger and larger.

  It was around noon, with the sun dead centre in the pale sky, that Ari saw the first people in white robes like her own. Four of them, sat cross-legged in a circle, palms pressed together. From their lips came a chorus of hums.

  Hummmmm.

  Ari tilted her head
and sucked at the corner of her lip.

  Abruptly, the humming stopped. A woman turned her head and looked at Ari from under her heavy rim.

  Ari froze.

  “Welcome, child.”

  The voice was soft with just the slightest crack. The woman smiled, thick creases forming around her lips, and her pale blue eyes glowed like the sky.

  A man turned his thickly bearded face towards her. “Would ya like to join us in prayer?”

  Ari fidgeted with her fingers. “Umm… I already did that today. I’m… umm… all prayed up.”

  The woman nodded. “But you know, he never stops listening, my child.”

  You’re supposed to be under cover, thought Ari. And I sure feel like it under this robe. I gotta do what they do. This is how this mission works. Because if you don’t, they’ll rat you out for sure.

  Ari’s mouth went dry. “I…”

  “Come, please,” said the woman.

  The man smiled. The couple separated their palms and beckoned Ari to sit between them.

  Uneasily, Ari slid between them. Two more happy faces grinned from under the rims of their hoods.

  “Ya must be new,” said the woman. “You’re on the fields, perhaps.”

  Ari chewed at the corner of her lip. “Umm… yeah.”

  The man winked at her. “They won’t miss ya, an’ we won’t tell.” They each held up their palms.

  Ari lifted her own palms and pressed them against each of theirs.

  The four people dipped their heads and began to hum again.

  One by one, Ari looked at each of them.

  Am I supposed to hum too?

  She tried to summon a sound, but no noise came. She closed her eyes. She wanted to force herself to hum, to copy the people around her, but she didn’t know how.

  “Morning Star, hear our prayers.”

  The humming continued.

  You gotta try, Ari, or else they’re gonna know.

  “Let us welcome our young follower to this sacred circle. Morning Star, we know your love will fill her as it has filled us all.”

  Ari began to sweat.

  Maybe they’ll want me to say something too? And what am I going to say? I can’t even start making the humming sounds they’re all making. If I try, they’re sure to notice I don’t have the knowing they do of how to do this.

  “Let us give thanks for this day. So close to the end now, every day is a blessing. But Morning Star, we are ready, in blood and soul, and look forward to the promised reckoning with joy in our hearts. Let us rejoice in our release from these flesh n’ bones an’ thank thee for gifting passage to the great bounty beyond.”

  The humming stopped. Ari opened her eyes and saw that everyone was smiling at her.

  They know, she thought. They know I ain’t supposed to be here.

  The woman spoke. “Go in peace my child, an’ welcome, salvation is yours.”

  Ari smiled uneasily.

  Maybe I got away with it?

  She stood. Everyone watched her with big, kindly eyes.

  Ari grinned a little and nodded. “Well, thank ya.”

  “Thank you, my child,” said the man.

  Ari dipped her head and shifted away. A short way off, she heard the humming begin again. She looked back, and all four people once more had their heads dipped.

  So, what was that all about?

  ∆∆∆

  Further on Ari came to a ditch, several feet deep. At the bottom was the patter of clear, running water.

  Instinctively, Ari slipped the canteen from her shoulder and lowered it by the strap into the ditch. Kneeling, she let the canteen rest at the bottom and fall on its side and watched the clear liquid run into the bottle.

  You never know when you’ll find more water.

  Ari looked beyond the ditch, to where the red earth was ploughed into a series of long, shallow channels. Breaking through the bottom of these channels, like impossible and precious jewels, Ari could see tiny, green shoots with miniature leaves and tiny buds. A flowering desert.

  Once the canteen felt heavy, Ari heaved it back up and took a long swig of the water. It didn’t taste like the water in the towns; it was sweeter and somehow slightly earthy, like sucking on gravel.

  Ari rose, stretched her legs between either side of the ditch and clambered across. She had the feeling now of trespassing into a new world.

  Ari tiptoed along the edge of the ditch until she found a thin path that seemed to cut through the channels without disturbing the crop. Ari knelt and examined the crop more closely. It was impossible to tell what the plants were. Her eyes traced the neat and uniform lines. The Angu did something similar, but that was in the swamp, this was deep in the wasteland. It seemed impossible. Ari had always assumed the ground was too salty and poisonous for anything to grow, yet here they grew. It seemed miraculous.

  Ari followed the path through the crops. From under her hood, she peered at the people in their white robes who tended the fields. Like herself, these workers seemed to be predominantly younger than the people she’d prayed with. They didn’t work as industriously as the Angu. Instead, they kneaded the ground tenderly, as if this wasn’t a job to be done but a pastime between whatever more important activities they had to do.

  Ari kept her head down and moved on, desperate not to draw attention. As she moved closer, the thick column of smoke grew ever larger, casting an ominous shadow across the fields.

  Ari passed field after field until the channels stopped abruptly at a series of metal stakes, hammered at intervals into the dry earth, to form an open barrier between the fields and whatever lay beyond. On top of each of these stakes, at eye level, was the unmistakable form of a jawless human skull.

  Out in the wasteland she’d seen plenty of skulls, for out there, there was no end to the ways a person could end their days, but seeing them here felt different. It wasn’t natural. The bones of the dead were meant to be left where they fell so they could return to the earth. In each eye socket had been placed a single lush, red-petalled flower. Beyond the swamp, she’d never seen such flowers, and certainly not this deep into the wasteland. She shuddered and turned away from the gaunt, flower-eyed faces; these blind guardians of whatever lay beyond.

  Beyond the metal stakes, people in white robes sat in circles and prayed, or knelt together and ate bread. Numerous people sat alone, cross-legged, palms open to the sky, their heads dipped, and Ari realised she could easily hide here. Ari’s eyes fell on a series of long tables piled high with small, round shapes. At the sight of the readily available flatbread her stomach grumbled. She watched as people drifted to the tables and took the bread. Ari shuffled towards them and, as casually as possible, slipped one of the small loaves from the table.

  Beyond the tables of bread were large, rust-coloured silos, on the bottom of which were taps that people used to fill cups or they held their mouths underneath them and lapped at the clear liquid. Stood around the silos were men in red robes with long, wooden spears. They might have been guards, and they certainly looked like guards. They stood solemnly, gently moving their gaze across the crowds, but the people in the white robes seemed to ignore them.

  Ari slipped away from the table and inched round a campfire with people sat around it filling their mouths with bread. A strange smell, sweet but smoky, hung in the air.

  Ari took a seat in a place on the ground she thought inconspicuous but where she had a good view of the bread, the silos, the guards in their red robes and the skull-headed stakes that marked the boundary to the fields. Confident that no one was especially watching her, she bit into the hard bread and chewed hungrily. The bread tasted sweet and earthy, like the water now in her canteen, and had the faint hint of smoke.

  Not too far away, a man was crying out to the sky, his hood down, his mesh of dark, tangled hair flowing in the breeze.

  “O Morning Star, come, release us from our earthly shackles of flesh and blood. Take us to the stars.”

  Something in these haunt
ed words made Ari shudder. Between the smiling faces, the bountiful bread and water, and the green shoots growing in the fields, this place was almost a paradise. And yet the thick column of smoke cast its constant shadow, as if to forsake the sun. Ari thought of the skulls on their stakes, their eyes replaced with flowers. In death, they were blinded by colour.

  Where, she wondered, have I come back to? Not the mine I remember fleeing from. The mine seemed to have been transformed into something entirely different.

  The man clapped his hands and cried out again, repeating the words. People seemed to ignore him but Ari found she could not and the bread stuck in her throat.

  Ari finished her bread slowly and watched the people mingle back and forth between the silos and the bread table. Then a guard came and draped a red blanket over the bread and people stopped visiting the table.

  An insect buzzed around Ari’s head. She tried to ignore it but found herself swatting it away. When it fell silent, she noticed a new sound. At first it was only a murmur, but people all around her had started to hum. More voices joined them and soon it was at if everyone was humming.

  Ari looked back towards the line of skull-headed stakes and the fields. Beyond the stakes, it looked as if, all at once, everyone was now drifting in from the fields.

  The humming grew louder; a constant eerie drone.

  Around her, people began to stand, and Ari did the same. She followed the robed people as they moved passed the water silos. She was now surrounded by people, all pressing in around her, and all of them pulling in the same direction, like a tide of human flesh at the mercy of the moon. They flowed over the ridge, like the breaking of a dam, and descended into the dusty basin at the foot of the mine.

  Chapter 22

  Below the ridge, in infectious spasms, waves of vocal resonance droned across the open space, where a vast mass of white-robed followers knelt on the dusty ground and hummed. Everyone faced the mine and the ominous column of smoke, like the audience of a demented amphitheatre, until not a scrap of earth was left spare and people perched on the slopes right up to the ridge.