by Gee, Maurice
She lay still as a cat. Half an hour passed. The watchmen paced. The guards breathed and sighed, exchanged a grunt. Everything was still. Then the moon went behind a cloud. Nothing changed. Rustlings came as men turned in their sleep. The moon slid out again. And something had changed. She saw it at once. The watchman by the river, the watchman by the forest, were not there. And all about, motionless and low upon the grass were boulders in the shapes of crouching men. Her guards had not seen. Knowing she was roped, they stood and dozed, hands upon their waists.
Susan held her breath. She felt if she made the smallest movement Odo Cling would wake, the guards would spring into action. She kept her eyes on the boulders. None of them moved. Yet she knew they were men, and knew that they had come to rescue her. She turned her eyes to see the moon. A cloud thick as oil, heavy as an elephant, moved ponderously down on it. A minute more, then the night would turn black as soot, her rescuers would come.
Moving slow as treacle, the cloud blotted out the moon. Again a darkness heavy as wool came on Susan’s eyes. She strained to hear, but the stirrings, the faint rustlings, seemed no more than normal night-time noises. When she had almost given up hope, the guard at her head gave a small grunt of surprise. Then he sighed. The man at her feet made a quick movement – she heard the oily scrape of a knife half-drawn from its scabbard – then he sighed too. Straining her ears, she heard mouse-like movements, whisperings of cloth. A voice breathed in the hair about her face, making it stir. ‘Be still … You are safe.’ She felt hands at her throat, loosening the collar, lifting it off.
‘Thank -’
‘Shsh.’
A knife worked on the rope binding her wrists. In a moment she was free. She tried to sit up.
‘No,’ the voice breathed. ‘Stay here. We will come.’
Something crept away. Then she heard faint noises among the sleeping guards. She wondered if her rescuers were moving among them, killing them perhaps. The thought made her feel sick. But in a moment the moon rolled out from behind its cloud and she saw half a dozen small figures, no taller than children, darting among the guards, pressing something to the face of each. Something, she guessed, that knocked them out the way Odo Cling’s bag had knocked her out. She strained her eyes to see who the newcomers were. But the light was too dull. All she could see was that they wore robes of a lighter colour than the Deathguards. They moved as neatly as fish darting in a pond. In a moment their job was done. All the guards were lying stiff and helpless as bales of hay. They laughed, the first normal sound Susan had heard, and started back towards her, pushing the hoods back from their faces.
‘Well, Susan Ferris, you are safe. Now we must get away from here.’
She stood up. Her knees creaked. She felt like laughing. But as she tottered, one of her rescuers made a sudden dart. He gave a cry, ‘Look out.’ She saw a black movement at her side and felt an arm strong as fencing wire lock on her throat. Odo Cling’s voice screeched at her ear, like a saw grating on a nail.
‘Back! Back, you vermin of the woods.’ She saw the gleam of a knife, felt it pricking at the base of her throat. ‘Back, I say.’
Her rescuers had halted. They stood in a knot, helplessly. Odo Cling laughed. ‘Did you think you could defeat Odo Cling, the Executive Officer? One move and the Mixie dies. I say it, Odo Cling, Doer of Deeds.’ He screeched again, more a scream of triumph than a laugh. ‘Did you think you had knocked me out with your stink-pads? I am immune. I have taken the cure. No stink-pad works against the great Odo Cling. I lay quiet till I saw my chance. And now I have her. I have the Mixie. And you will stay where you are till my men wake up. Then we will have some sport.’
One of the rescuers shook his head. He seemed dazed, he seemed to have shrunk. ‘I’m sorry, Susan.’
‘How do you know my name?’
‘Quiet!’ Odo Cling screamed. His arm tightened round her throat. She managed to smile. She was calm, not the least bit frightened. She knew exactly what she was going to do.
‘Don’t take any notice of Odo Cling. He’s not very clever. He’s forgotten the most important thing.’
‘Quiet, Mixie. I shall cut your tongue out.’
‘This,’ Susan said. Almost lazily she raised her arm and laid the mark on her wrist on Odo Cling’s hand. The detonation so close to her ears made her head seem to split in two. Odo Cling was torn from her so roughly that she staggered and almost fell. But she saw him go spinning high in the air, thin legs poking at angles, and saw him crash down in a tangle over the bodies of his sleeping guards. He lay still.
‘That’s what he forgot,’ Susan said. Then she sat down. She felt rather faint suddenly.
A figure came running from the forest. He wore a robe like the ones her rescuers wore. But his hood was back, she saw his face. He ran through the Deathguards and jumped over Odo Cling. Susan stood up. She took a step towards him. He grabbed her in his arms and hugged her until she could hardly breathe.
‘Susan. You’re all right. Thank God.’
She started to cry. It was good just to be able to cry. She let her tears run on to his shoulder. ‘Nick. Oh, Nick. Where on earth did you come from?’
4
The Woodlanders
The Woodlanders – for so they called themselves – darted among the Deathguards, unbuckling their knives, cutting loose the stink-pads from their necks. They took them in armfuls down to the river and hurled them in.
‘Without their weapons and pads they will not dare follow us in the forest,’ Brand said. He was leader: a small creature, wiry and tough, with a woolly face and merry eyes. ‘But Odo Cling has another camp half a day’s march down the river. They will get more weapons there. Then they will be after us. So we must be off. The Deathguards follow scent like dogs. If we have time we will lay false trails for them.’
Susan was standing with her hand in Nick’s. She looked about at the black guards and shivered. One or two were starting to moan and stir. ‘Is Odo Cling alive?’
‘He breathes. Worse luck,’ Brand said.
‘Can I borrow your knife?’ She took Brand’s knife and cut the thong securing Cling’s whip to his wrist. She threw it into the dark. ‘I’m glad he’s not dead. I killed a man today.’
‘We saw. We have been close.’
‘Don’t be upset, Sue,’ Nick said. ‘It was an accident.’
‘Yes.’
‘But what did you do to him? And Cling?’
‘I don’t know. My wrist …’ She looked at it.
‘Time for that later,’ Brand said. ‘They are starting to wake.’ He got his men together – but were they men? Although they were small their shape was right. But their hands, even their faces, were covered with fur. She looked at them more closely. Three seemed lighter, quicker. Perhaps they were female. They started off up the edge of the forest and over a low hill, leaving the groaning guards in their empty camp, with Cling stunned in the midst of them.
‘He will not give up,’ Brand said. ‘He will come like a Bloodcat when he is armed. We must get deep in the woods. Can you run, Susan?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Here.’ He put his hand in a bag belted to his hip and pulled something out. ‘Eat this.’
‘What is it?’
‘A sort of fern root, Sue,’ Nick said. ‘They dry it. It tastes like bananas, only better.’
‘It will give you strength,’ Brand said.
Susan ate. The food felt pleasant in her mouth, it felt like dates, but she was disappointed to find it had no more taste than Odo Cling’s meat. She said nothing. It would have seemed ungrateful to have complained. ‘Nice, thank you. I’m cold.’
At once a man stepped forward, drew off his robe, and pulled it down over Susan’s head. She was warm instantly. She smiled at him standing there in his short grey tunic. ‘I can’t take your clothes.’
‘He is proud to help the wearer of the Mark,’ Brand said. ‘Now let us run. Odo Cling is awake. You did not throw his whip far enough, Susan. He punish
es his men.’
They heard a bloody howling, like cats fighting in the night.
‘Yes. Yes. Let’s run.’
They went in single file, Brand first, then Nick and Susan. The others dropped back. When Susan looked over her shoulder, she saw no sign of them. She guessed they were laying false scents, confusing the trail. Their own way was on a grassy strip beside the river. But soon the ground began to rise. The forest climbed with it, close on their right, towering and impenetrable – at least, she would have thought so, but after more than an hour’s steady running, Brand turned without warning and plunged into it. The moonlight could not break through and the world suddenly darkened. But Susan felt no threat, even though it was colder in here and the trees pressed close, for Brand was obviously at home. He began to hum a tune as he jogged along. After a time he slowed his pace to a walk and waited till Susan and Nick came up with him. They were on top of a mound almost bare of growth, their faces level with the heads of the trees.
‘This is Wildwood,’ Brand said, waving his arm. ‘She is mother to us all – all Woodlanders.’
‘Were you born here?’ Susan asked.
‘I was born here. I shall die in here. For me there is no other world than Wildwood. I know every tree. I know every blade of grass. They are my brothers and sisters.’
Susan smiled. She knew what he meant. ‘How big is it?’
‘Look,’ Brand said. The sky was lightening. Dawn was coming over the mountains. The black forest stretched out towards the west. Shreds of mist rose among the trees. ‘That way, two days’ walk as far as Sheercliff. The Sweet Water flows along its edge. That was the river you crossed. Once it was sweet right down to the sea. Now, after it tumbles over Sheercliff, we call it Poison. Poison Water.’ His eyes held a bitter sadness. He shook himself. ‘Well, Marna will tell you that story. You ask me how big Wildwood is? Two days to Sheercliff. And three days back the other way to the mountains. But south, down there,’ he pointed into the distance, ‘more walking than even I have done. It is high summer now. Deep in winter you would still be in Wildwood. Yet that too Otis Claw and his Halfmen seek to conquer.’
‘Who is Otis Claw? What are Halfmen?’
‘No. No. It is Marna’s tale. Dawn is here. We must stay in the trees.’ He led them down from the knoll into the shadows. They drank from a stream and ate dried fern roots from Brand’s bag. Then they ran again. Susan could not see any path. Brand seemed to turn left or right without any reason. Yet always the ground rose and Susan guessed they were heading towards the mountains. Once they would find the tunnel again and she and Nick could go back to their world.
When the sun was overhead Brand called a halt. The place was a grassy bank beside a stream. How beautiful it would have been, Susan thought, if everything had not been grey. She drank from her cupped hands and ate more of Brand’s food. It still had no taste. This world should have been beautiful, everything was there to make it beautiful, yet it was dull, dead, colourless. It was like food with no salt in it. She lay down on the grass and tried to sleep. Soon the rest of the Woodlanders came up with them. They were laughing, chattering. Their eyes should be glowing, Susan thought, and their furry cheeks should be coloured – but no, they were grey, like everything else.
‘Odo Cling will be at his camp,’ Brand said. ‘He will be armed and starting out again. By nightfall Deathguards will be on our trail. But we have a day’s march on them. Walt, where did you make your trail?’
‘I led them to the gorges,’ grinned a man.
‘Breeze?’
A woman smiled. ‘I to the vanishing stream.’
‘Dale?’
‘To the hundred caverns.’
‘Verna?’
‘I took them south, to the place of giant trees.’
‘Good. We shall gain many hours. Now Susan and Nick must rest awhile. By tomorrow nightfall we must reach Marna’s cave.’
Susan lay back in the soft grey grass. It lapped about her face. Overhead, small birds, shaped like teardrops, darted in the leaves. They were like rainbirds, she thought, like grey warblers. Their thin sweet song came pattering down like rain. It was the first beautiful sound she had heard in this world.
‘Nick,’ she whispered, ‘that was clever of you – calling like a morepork.’
Nick was lying on his elbow. He grinned at her. ‘Good, eh?’ he boasted. ‘They’ve got this bird that sounds a bit like a morepork so I thought I’d send you a warning. Old Brand nearly had a fit.’
‘Is this world a dream?’
‘No. It’s real all right. The planet O. I haven’t worked it out yet. I thought it might be some sort of alternate world – but the moon is different, and the stars. So we must have travelled out somewhere into the Milky Way.’
‘How did you get here?’
‘I pinched Jimmy Jaspers’ bottle and had a sniff. I think what happens is – they’ve got some sort of force-field in there, in the mineshaft. When you sniff that stuff it drags you in. Then it breaks you down somehow, into molecules maybe, or impulses, and you go through a warp. It puts you together again when you come out the other side. I’d sooner travel by train.’
‘Nick – they stabbed Jimmy Jaspers. Odo Cling’s guards.’
‘I know. I saw.’
‘He wanted me to save him.’
‘Some cheek. Still, it was pretty nasty. I heard them fighting as I came up the tunnel. The bloke with the knife stabbed him twice. There was nothing I could do. He was still breathing when I got to him, but then he stopped. Brand’s people took him away. I suppose they buried him somewhere.’
‘Was it you I saw moving?’
‘Yes. I waved. It was a risk, but I wanted you to see. I was going to follow, but then Brand came, and Breeze and Walt and the others. They’ve been keeping a watch on Odo Cling. I told them about Jimmy Jaspers. I told them about your mark, Sue. That made them pretty excited. I wonder what it is.’
‘When I touch people it’s as if they get a shock of electricity.’
‘I know. I saw Odo Cling. And that guard. It was as if they’d been hit by a bus.’
‘Thank you for rescuing me.’
‘Thank Brand. They’re fantastic trackers. They almost turn themselves into trees or rocks. Brand was in those boulders when you tried to escape. He was close enough to touch you. And you saw them when they came last night. One of them was right under the sentry’s nose when the moon came out and he just seemed to shape himself like a stone.’
Brand’s voice said, ‘Enough talk. Try to sleep. We’ve got hard travelling ahead.’
‘I can’t sleep, Susan said.’ ‘My wrists hurt where they tied me. And my cheek. Odo Cling hit me with his whip.’
Brand made a sound of annoyance. ‘Ah. Yes. Foolish. I should have thought. Breeze.’
But the woman had heard. Already she had darted into the trees.
‘Breeze has been taught by Marna,’ Brand said.
In a moment the woman came back. She knelt by Susan and looked at her cheek. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘Halfmen ropes burn like fire. And Odo Cling has a whip made of Bloodcat hide. It cuts deep. But this will take away the pain and leave no scar.’ She held a fruit shaped like a lemon and two or three small pointed leaves. She bit the fruit neatly in half, laid the leaves inside, and closed it up. ‘This was taught me by Marna. Even a heart wound can be healed by this.’ She held the fruit a moment, then opened it. The body of the leaves had been eaten away and skeletons remained. Breeze picked them off. Then she dipped her finger in the juice of the fruit and smeared it gently on Susan’s cheek.
‘There. The pain should go.’
‘It does. It feels like – warm oil.’
‘Now your wrists.’
‘Don’t touch the birthmark.’
Breeze laughed. ‘Oh, we are not Halfmen. See?’ She laid her palm on the mark. ‘Only those who have lost their natures shall be harmed.’ She smeared juice on the rope-burns. The pain went away. ‘Now you can sleep. But never eat this fruit. Or
the leaves. Only when they are brought together do they become whole.’
Susan sighed. She felt peaceful now the pain was gone. ‘Thank you. This would be a beautiful world if everything wasn’t grey.’
Breeze stared at her. Her face showed consternation. She turned angrily on Brand. ‘Foolish man, she is still unsighted. Why did you not say?’
‘I did not know. But I should have thought. She sniffed the yellow smoke, like Nick. Can you find some Shy?’
‘Yes. There is a place. Two hours away. Verna and I will go. Sleep, Susan. When I come back you shall see our world.’
‘What -’
‘Sleep.’
She signalled the girl Verna, and the two darted down the stream and vanished like shadows in the grey trunks of the trees.
‘Nick?’
‘I’m tired too, Susan. Just get ready for colours you’ve never seen.’ He lay back in the grass and closed his eyes. Susan lay back too. She felt as if she was in a feather-bed. Tiredness pressed on her like heavy weights and she fell at once into a dreamless sleep. When she woke the sun had moved down the sky. It was warm on the side of her face. She felt for the mark of Odo Cling’s whip but it had gone. She smiled and sat up.
‘Nick.’
He was drinking at the stream. He came up to her with Brand, who gave her a piece of dried root from his pouch.
‘Wait for Breeze,’ Nick said. ‘Then you’ll be able to taste it.’
‘I feel better now. Nick, we’ll have to get back. Mum and Dad are going to be worried crazy. And your parents.’ She looked at Brand. ‘Will we be able to go through the tunnel again?’
The Woodlander looked uncomfortable. He lowered his eyes. ‘I don’t know. We must talk with Marna first. She knows all secrets.’
‘Who’s Marna?’
‘She must tell you that. Here is Breeze. See, she has the Shy.’
Breeze and Verna came up the stream towards them. Although they had been running for two hours they still had the quick Woodlander movement. Breeze was smiling. She held something cupped in her hand and when she came to Susan she held it out. ‘The Shy. The rarest plant in Wildwood. It will cure your blindness.’
