‘I had nothing to do with her disappearance, Nate.’
‘I know.’
‘I just used my . . . ‘gift’, whatever it is, to find her. The same way I found Wei-Lin’s watch.’ She considered telling Nate about her experience inside the falcon, but quickly dismissed the idea. It was too absurd and she didn’t think she could bear to see ridicule in his eyes.
‘I believe you,’ said Nate.
Pan got to her feet and looked out over The School.
‘It’s wrong,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘All of this is wrong.’ The watches are wrong.
‘What do you mean?’
Pan almost laughed. ‘I have no idea, Nate,’ she said. ‘Not a clue.’ No, that’s not true. There are plenty of clues. You just haven’t figured out what they mean yet. ‘But this place . . .’ She lifted her arms as if to embrace the whole environment. ‘There’s something fundamentally . . .’
‘Wrong?’ Nate got to his feet also. ‘I need to run, Pan. I always need to run, but now more than ever. Want to come with me? There’s something I need to show you.’
‘I’m exhausted, Nate.’
‘All the more reason to run. Come on.’
Pan wanted to resist, but she was too tired to even do that.
~~~
The early evening air was crisp, but Pan was sweating after a few minutes. The muscles in her legs cramped and she developed a stitch within half a kilometre. She concentrated on her breathing and establishing a rhythm. After about a kilometre, she felt better. Not good. But better.
Nate, as always, loped along easily. It was clear he was running at well below his normal pace. He didn’t say anything, which suited Pan. She wasn’t sure she had the breath to hold a conversation and she knew she didn’t have the inclination.
Nate led her away from the main paths to The School’s buildings, off towards the left where the mountains started. Pan had never been to this part of The School before. She remembered how it had appeared from the Garden on Top of the World. A forest, showing that even in this barren landscape nature could thrive. Pan focused again on her breathing. Her steps had found a rhythm and the stitch in her side had eased. They were heading straight towards the forest which was much larger than she had thought. Gradually, the rocky terrain became softer. High above, the mountains loomed. A waterfall off to her left cascaded from a plateau maybe sixty metres above. The thunder of the falls drummed in her ears, became louder with each pace she took. The air was filled with water vapour. Where the dying sun caught it, small rainbows formed and reformed, glimmered and glistened.
Nate entered the forest ahead of her. There were a number of paths, but Pan couldn’t tell if they had been constructed or were simply the trails of animals that lived in the cool shade of the trees. Nate took one path without hesitation. He knows these woods, Pan thought. She wondered how often he had been here. And for what purpose. It was much cooler in the forest, but Pan felt her spirits lift anyway. She glanced over her shoulder and could see nothing of The School. Trees curtained it from view. This was a different world. Something purer. Something softer. Peace lived here.
Nate picked up pace and followed the path around a corner. Pan cursed him, but kept her own rhythm. The sound of pounding water filled the world and she could hear nothing above it, not even the rasping of her own breath or the thud of boots against the ground. The air smelled of mulch, of trees, of life. She breathed it deeply into her lungs. She ran around the corner and stopped in her tracks.
They were in a large clearing. A clearing filled with mist. Her eyes lifted automatically to the source of the deafening sound. The waterfall was visible for only a few metres above the ground. A solid sheet of water pounded down and the earth trembled beneath her feet. Already she was coated in fine droplets. Nate stood with his back to her, gazing at the curtain of water. His hair was jewelled and rainbows played around his body. Pan walked to his side. He didn’t glance at her.
‘Melt water,’ he yelled. Even though he shouted at the top of his voice and Pan was standing right next to him, she had to concentrate to hear. He pointed upwards. ‘Season changing. Snow melting. Feeds this river. Even in the last couple of days, this waterfall has become stronger. The river runs to the sea. Beyond the wall.’
Pan nodded. She didn’t think he would hear her if she spoke anyway. It was so beautiful. She understood why Nate would feel compelled to come here and she was pleased that he wanted to share it with her. She could almost forget what lay outside the clearing. The sound of pounding water and the mist-shrouded air washed away the ugliness of her memories. In particular, the vision of a girl frozen to a mountainside, her eyes fixed and unseeing. She touched Nate’s arm and he turned his face to her. He was glazed in beads of water that shone on his eyelashes, sparkled on the down of his cheeks. I could fall in love with him, thought Pan. Maybe I am falling in love with him. She pushed the thought away. There was no room inside her for love.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she said.
Nate smiled. Even his lips were wet with dew.
‘It’s a good place to come. When you’re feeling bad. When you want to forget for an hour or so. Thought you’d like it.’
‘I’m glad I came.’
‘Hey. This isn’t the main thing I wanted to show you, Pan.’
‘It isn’t?’
‘Nah. We’ve got more running ahead of us. You up to it?’
Pan smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled and meant it.
‘No,’ she said. ‘But let’s go anyway.’
~~~
Once again, Nate took the lead. He followed another path through the forest, keeping the river to his left. Before long, the trees thinned and The School came into view. The roaring of the waterfall faded and was replaced by the sound of rushing river water. They left the trees behind and Pan glanced around to get her bearings.
They were following the course of the river, running along the bank. It was good to feel grass beneath her feet, rather than hard, uneven stone. She didn’t miss the jolt along her spine that accompanied each footstep on that rough terrain. Far off, the wall lay directly ahead. To Pan’s right was The School. It seemed a separate world somehow, as the buildings blended into the dusk.
The river gushed and frothed. Pan imagined the almost endless supply of snow coming from distant mountain peaks, feeding it. She looked up to see if she could detect any difference in the snow fields, but the light was fading and the mountains loomed only as malevolent blocks of shadow.
It took ten minutes before they arrived at the buildings. A series of cabins scattered along the sides of the river. The staff quarters. They appeared considerably more comfortable than the dormitories the students used. But they remained functional. Almost austere. No gardens were planted. No chairs or hammocks stretched out along the small verandahs. No distinguishing characteristics. Nothing that indicated anyone had tried to impose their own personality on their home. Although the surroundings were pretty and it was peaceful, the atmosphere was the same as that which enveloped the rest of The School. Bleak.
Nate said nothing as they passed the houses, nor did he appear to pay them any attention. Two minutes later, they left the buildings behind. No staff appeared to question them. No curtains twitched. It was like a ghost town.
Pan was tired. Her legs were heavy and her breath was becoming ragged. But she didn’t complain about the pace Nate set. Nor did she complain when it became clear that their destination, again, was the wall. The river ran straight towards it. A watchtower was directly ahead, where the wall and the river intersected. It swelled in Pan’s sight as their steps took them closer.
She was relieved when they finally stopped under the ominous bulk of the watchtower. The wall blocked their progress. Implacable. Mysterious. It snaked away to their right where she knew it joined up with the mountain range on the other side of the plain that housed The School. To their left, the wall continued for a hundred metres to where it butted
up against the solid mountain range that flanked them on this side. The blocks of stone had been carved to fit the terrain perfectly. There were no gaps between the wall and the mountainside, no way for anyone to scramble or slip through.
Pan flopped down onto the grass and put her head between her knees. She focused on regulating her breathing. Nate sat next to her, his breathing annoyingly regular. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes until Pan could trust her voice.
‘So this is what you had to show me, Nate? The wall? I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve already seen it. More than enough of it, to be honest.’
He laughed.
‘Not the wall itself, Pan. Something in the wall. You ready? Got your breath back?’
She groaned and got to her feet. Nate took her by the hand and led her towards the river. The flow was less rapid here as the ground had levelled out, but the current was still strong. The breadth of the river was about ten metres.
‘There,’ said Nate, pointing downstream. Pan followed his arm.
The river appeared to go straight through the wall. She took a few steps to get a closer look. Set into the base of the wall was a broad sluice gate. An interlocking metal lattice allowed the water through. Pan could see only darkness where the water disappeared. The water frothed against the gate, two or three metres from its top.
‘Fascinating, Nate,’ said Pan. ‘So you brought me here to show me a minor engineering feature?’
‘No,’ replied Nate. ‘To show you a way through the wall.’
Pan pushed her hair back from her forehead.
‘We’ve been beyond the wall, Nate,’ she said in as even a tone as she could manage. ‘And we were assaulted, drugged and imprisoned. Why would you want to try again?’
‘For the same reasons you want to, Pan. Answers. You say there’s something wrong with The School. If that’s true, I believe there’s a good chance of finding out exactly what. But only on the other side of the wall where, it seems, they are desperate to stop us going.’
Pan said nothing for a minute.
‘Let’s just say that I would be interested in going back,’ she said. ‘Hypothetically, I mean. We can’t get through here.’
‘Wrong, Pandora. We can get through. Come see.’
Nate walked right up to the gate. Pan sighed and followed him.
‘There,’ said Nate, pointing.
The gap was difficult to see at first. Pan had to strain her eyes against the fading light. Then she noticed that one of the crossbars on a section of lattice had come loose. It was still attached, but hung at a slight angle from the others. If the gate had been here for some time – and the structure certainly didn’t look new – then the surge of water from the river, over a period of years, must have wrought some damage. Even so, the gap afforded by the loose metal strip was small. Perhaps it was possible for someone to squeeze through, but it would be tight. And dangerous.
‘That’s it, is it, Nate?’ said Pan. ‘That tiny gap? Even if we could get through, there’s no guarantee there would be a way through on the other side, assuming there’s a similar lattice on the village side.’
‘Ah,’ said Nate. ‘I’ve thought about that. It’s likely that the water has damaged that side as well. A simple matter of taking boltcutters with us. Finding the most vulnerable point. Snip, snip. Out the other side.’
‘Assuming we could get hold of boltcutters. Assuming we could do that right under the nose of a watchtower and, presumably, a guard. Assuming, also, we don’t drown while we’re trying to get through. That water must be freezing. And we could end up under that wall. In short, the idea is nothing short of suicidal.’
‘I know,’ said Nate. He grinned. ‘Cool, isn’t it?’
‘When are you going?’
‘Soon. The night after next, I reckon. I’ve been checking the phases of the moon. With luck, there’ll be plenty of cloud cover as well. So. Interested?’
Pan sat on the ground and started stretching. The muscles in her calves were beginning to cramp. Nate watched her, his hands on his hips.
‘I’m jogging back, now,’ said Pan when her muscles had stopped complaining. ‘It will be dark soon.’
‘Never jog,’ said Nate. ‘Jogging is for losers. Run with me.’
‘I’m jogging. But don’t let me hold you back.’
He shrugged. ‘Okay. If you’re sure. See you later, Pandora.’
‘Nate?’
He turned back.
‘Let me know when you go, okay?’ she said.
He grinned and gave her a thumbs up before setting off into the thickening night. Within a minute Pan had lost sight of him.
Chapter 17
‘I apologise for bringing you all here again,’ said Dr Morgan. ‘But this is a sombre occasion and I felt . . . we felt . . . that you deserved some information on today’s . . . extraordinary events.’
The running field was shrouded in darkness, punctuated only by the pools of light made by the flame torches. There were probably fifty or so spread around the field and they gave a curious sense of celebration, as if this was a gathering for a night-time fete or festival. But the mood was far from celebratory. Not a sound could be heard as Morgan addressed the assembled School. He stood on a small, portable dais – a large box, really – surrounded by other staff members. Dr Macredie was there, to Dr Morgan’s left, as were Miss Kingston, Professor Goldberg and Gwynne. They formed a line, hands behind their backs, as if asserting their role as protectors. Dr Morgan lowered his head for a moment and then spoke again. His voice carried across the plain.
‘First of all, thank you all for your contributions today,’ he said. ‘It is a credit to The School that no-one – I repeat, no-one – did not involve themselves in the search for Cara Smith. I am proud of you all.’ He glanced down and locked the fingers of his hands together. ‘I only wish that your endeavours had resulted in a happier outcome.’
Professor Goldberg moved towards Dr Morgan, who bent to listen. A silence ensued and then Dr Morgan raised his head to the assembled students once more.
‘I am certain that all of you are aware by now that Cara was found and that, tragically, her rescuers were not able to . . . save her.’
There was never a chance of saving her, thought Pan. Nate stood at her shoulder, a number of rows from the front of the assembly. Cara had been dead for many hours. Are we going to be blamed for what happened? But Pan remained silent.
‘This is the first time in the short history of The School,’ Dr Morgan continued, ‘that we have lost a student, and I know that we are all suffering from shock, maybe a sense of . . . disbelief. Dr Macredie has asked me to remind you that if anyone needs to discuss their feelings, then she is available to offer counselling. Confidentiality is, of course, assured. If you wish to take up this opportunity then please make an appointment at the Infirmary . . .’
‘What happened, Doc?’ The voice was male and came from somewhere in the throng, though Pan didn’t recognise the voice. The question rang through the cold night.
‘We’re not sure,’ he said. ‘Cara had not yet integrated herself emotionally into the social network of The School. I believe she was depressed – a state of mind that many, if not all of you, can certainly identify with. Whether that had anything to do with her unfortunate fate . . . well, I don’t believe that such speculation is fruitful.’ He rubbed his nose. ‘In the course of my professional duties, I examined Cara and could find nothing that might indicate anything other than natural causes for her death.’
Pan couldn’t help herself. The words issued before she was even aware of the impulse. ‘So how did she get halfway up a mountain?’
Morgan tilted his head to one side as if considering all the implications of the question. The silence was profound.
‘I know there are many questions you might have,’ he said eventually, ‘but I suspect we will never have the answers to most of them. All I can say is that, under extreme circumstances, people are capable of extraordinary achieve
ments.’ He paused for a few beats, and Pan couldn’t help but think it was partly – maybe totally – for effect. ‘Sadly, it’s my personal opinion that Cara was depressed to the point of being suicidal. I think she believed there was nothing worth living for. I think she deliberately scaled that mountainside, difficult though that might be to believe for some of us, and . . .’ He rubbed at his eyes as if to wipe away tears. Pan felt anger rise. It was bitter and all-consuming. I knew her better than any of you, she thought. I don’t believe she did this to herself. How could she possibly have climbed the mountain without equipment? ‘. . . and lay down. As simple as that. It is tragic. Unbelievably tragic. But . . .’ Dr Morgan raised his eyes and scanned the students. ‘There is a lesson here for all of us. We must fight despair, challenging though that might be. The future of humanity is in our hands and that is a tremendous burden to bear. But it is also a sacred burden. We must work to ensure Cara did not die in vain. If she has a legacy it is this: do not let the darkness overwhelm you. Fight. Fight for life. It is precious. Especially now.’ Dr Morgan almost slumped on the podium. Dr Macredie moved towards him, but he waved her away and lifted his head. Pan felt like applauding the quality of his performance.
‘Go now,’ said Dr Morgan. His voice was strong, yet tinged with weariness. ‘You need rest. Remember Cara. Remember also your responsibility. There are so few of us. Do not let her death be in vain. Rather, let it spur you on to greater efforts. For Cara’s sake. Thank you.’
The crowd dispersed, murmurs of conversation muted. Pan headed for the dorm, her pace brisk, almost frantic. There was a pulse beating in her temple and she felt as if her head would explode. She was unaware of Nate’s presence until he spoke.
‘Talk to me, Pan,’ he said.
She stopped and took a deep breath to calm herself. Around her, students were melting into the darkness, the lights from the flame torches spreading and dissolving. The night air was chill, but the coldness in her bones had nothing to do with external temperature.
‘What do you want me to say, Nate?’ she said.
Pandora Jones: Admission Page 17
