by Dale Furse
She didn’t know how long she hung off the rock before Sam's voice floated down from above her.
‘Cay-Meka, hold onto my ankles!’
Sam's arm stretched down towards her. Cay-Meka must have his ankles. She hoped her cousin’s strength was up to the task. Her hand slipped a little and tightening her grip she lowered her head to bring it back in line with her body.
‘Here! Grab my hand!’ Sam called.
‘I can't see it!’ Nell stared ahead at the dirt-encrusted rock she hung from, afraid to look either up or down in case her grasp was compromised again. ‘Please, Sam … hurry … I can't hold on.’
The pain in her ankle was overshadowed by the agony in her fingers. With a grimace, she pressed her nails brutally into the rock.
Sam must have moved because dirt and small pebbles showered Nell's head. His hand brushed hers and her hopes rose. She lifted her hand but her other one couldn’t hold her weight. Again, she plunged. Wildly, her hands sought to halt her descent once more but her fingernails broke as if they were no more than potato straws. The tender tips of her fingers stung as they scraped down the rock until they grasped at empty air. Nell screamed and Cay-Meka’s wail joined her howl.
She knew she was falling fast but time seemed to slow and her thoughts cleared. Her back tingled and she wished more than anything she could be Wintar at that moment. Strangely calm, she watched the ravine floor draw ever nearer wondering why she wasn’t hysterical at the approach of death.
She focused on a misshapen tree jutting out from the craggy rocks below her. Huh. It was worth a shot. With her arms straight above her head, she joined her hands to form a spear shape and lent her upper body’s weight towards the cliff, hoping to change the angle of her descent. It worked a little but she thought she might fall close enough to the tree to grab it. She grunted. The few branches the tree had managed to hold on to looked dead. She judged her descent and when she thought the time was right, she stretched out her arms and body as far as she could.
She grabbed hold of the one branch she could reach and real time came back with a jolt. Her arms nearly wrenched from their sockets. At the sound of a cracking noise, she clenched her teeth and used what strength she had left to swing her legs over the main trunk. She closed her eyes as tight as she could and held on for her life.
‘Nell?’ Sam called. ‘Yell out if you can hear me.’
Unable to answer, Nell breathed in short sharp gasps and tried to stop her body trembling. Her poor tree of life could also accompany her to death. If she continued though, she would hyperventilate and fall anyway. Why wasn’t she as calm as when she was falling? Summoning a force deep within, she managed to slow her breathing.
Sam called again but Nell counted each breath. Counting always helped keep her emotions in check. It worked when she was angry and helped her not to dwell on whatever made her sad. A relative of Sam's had been killed in a car accident. He was only eighteen and she had counted all the way through the funeral service. It usually worked, though she doubted it would at that moment.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BY THE TIME NELL COUNTED TO NINE, SHE felt more stable on her precarious perch, although she still didn't open her eyes. Even that slight movement might dislodge the tree’s tentative grasp. She breathed easier and stopped counting. The air smelt as familiar as Cape Hollow’s air. It steadied her like the breeze over the ocean. Although she knew she wasn’t at home she felt like she was there. Maybe her animal spirit was with her.
‘Nell, open your eyes,’ a man’s soft voice said.
It wasn’t her animal spirit’s voice but his breath touched her face. It was as sweet as the voice it belonged to.
Nell frowned. That can't be true. She was hanging out there in thin air, air that must have too much oxygen. She was just hallucinating. Nobody could be there with her.
Still not opening her eyes, she yelled as loud as she could and tried to keep her body still. ‘Sam! I'm down here.’ Her whole body ached, muscles turned to water, and her grip around the trunk loosened.
The voice spoke again in an urgent tone. ‘Open your eyes and look at me.’
Scared though she was, she obeyed, not believing for a second that there would be someone with her on that limb.
An angel hovered above her. She stared numbly at his long black curls falling over his smiling brown eyes. Thin blue cloth billowed against his chest revealing his strength. Large wings, each feather streaked with every shade of green imaginable, kept him afloat. ‘I am going to die,’ she said calmly.
The angel laughed quietly and said, ‘You’re not going to die. But if you don’t sit up a bit so I can reach your shoulders, your weight will make the tree under you fall and make it harder for me to save you.’
His wings lifted him higher. Without the sun’s rays behind him, it was clear he wasn't an angel. ‘A Wintar,’ she gasped, and tightened her grip around the tree, not taking her eyes off him.
‘Yes,’ he said slowly, with an air of patience one would give a two-year-old. ‘As were my parents before me.’
Not liking the tone of his voice, Nell spat, ‘You're not taking me again. I don't like Wintars’
Irritation crossed his face, but quickly faded. ‘Your mother was a Wintar and you, my dear girl, are half Wintar. So you tell me, Nell. Are there no Wintars you like?’
Feeling slightly foolish at her outburst, she mumbled, ‘Of course there are.’
‘Good. We can resume this conversation on firmer ground. Sit up.’
Her heart pounded. Either she stayed where she was and waited for the tree to dislodge, or she let the Wintar take her to who knows where.
A noise like a loud whip cracked behind her. She spun her head around and the tree pitched. Another crack. A small cry broke loose from her throat and she raised her upper body as high as she could. Hard talons grasped her shoulders. As if her will was the only thing holding the tree in place, at the loss of that connection, it fell and crashed onto the floor of the ravine.
She dangled from the Wintar’s claws as he carried her skyward. As he flew low over her companions’ heads, they shouted at him, jumped, and tried to grab hold of Nell’s feet. The Wintar sailed just out of their reach and gently placed Nell in a small rocky clearing.
The instant her feet hit solid ground, she fainted.
Something wet splashed on her face. Rain? She opened her eyes. Sam stood over her dousing water on her face. She regained her equilibrium and jumped to her feet. Pain shot through her ankle but she still complained, ‘Stop it, Sam! Are you trying to drown me?’
‘You're okay!’ Sam said.
Cay-Meka touched Nell's arm. ‘I’m glad you are alive.’
‘Yeah, so am I.’ She looked around for her saviour. The Wintar, though his wings had disappeared, still looked like an angel, although he could just as easily have been a pirate. He stood, hands on hips, in his half-unbuttoned billowy shirt and his loose dark-green trousers, watching Nell.
She lowered her gaze at the intensity in his dark chocolate eyes. She found his bare feet. His talons were gone. When she finally raised her head, his radiant smile warmed her heart. He was beautiful, the same young Wintar from the council chambers. ‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘I am Tanat,’ he said without moving, ‘And I am pleased to meet you at last, little Nell, though I hoped our first meeting would be slightly less dramatic.’
She thought about the Wintars who captured them. Was he working with them?
‘Cay-Meka tells me you know how to find Dar-Seldra.’
‘Cay-Meka's got a big mouth,’ Nell said, and narrowed her eyes at her cousin. ‘I don't really know exactly where Dar-Seldra is, but I think she's somewhere back there.’ She pointed in the direction that they had come from. He probably knew Phibs can't have visions. If she told him her aunt’s whereabouts exactly, he would think she was crazy, or lying, or both. It occurred to her if she was to find the book, she might have to expose some of her burgeoning abilities anyway. Her eye
s found Sam's and he patted the rock beside him. She hobbled over and sat down.
‘You'll age before your time if you keep frowning like that,’ Tanat said, and sat on another rock opposite Nell. ‘Let me see your foot.’
‘You don't have to. It's fine.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Tanat said, taking her foot gently but firmly. After inspecting the twisted ankle, he said, ‘I don't believe you are destined to succumb to mental illness.’
‘But Dad—’
Tanat interrupted. ‘Your father doesn't either. You gave him a fright when you spoke about the unknown book from Wexkia. That was the name you said, wasn't it?
She nodded. ‘But what about the other girl Cay-Meka told me about?’
‘Shahs?’ Tanat frowned and glanced at Cay-Meka. ‘She, too, had Wintar and Phib parents. And by all reports, her mind could not handle the abilities of both races. She crumpled under the weight and sadly, she killed somebody in a fit of lunacy.’
‘Where is she?’ Nell wanted to know.
‘She is safe and well cared for in a restoration.’
‘Have there been others?’
‘Many mixed Wintar and Phib marriages produce children. However, they normally only inherit one parent’s set of abilities. Some mixed children never gain any abilities whatsoever. Shahs was the first in known history to gain both.’
‘So, you're still saying I might go mad?’
Sam exhaled loudly. ‘Rubbish,’ he said.
‘As I said, I don't see any reason to assume that because Shahs did, you will.’ Tanat’s smile showed large white teeth. Not too large for his mouth, but large enough to show his smile was honest. Nell relaxed.
Tanat continued, ‘Although I found what you said about a book in the Corl council chambers most interesting, you have to know most Phibs, Wintars and Corls will not. A book such as you spoke of could stop our two races warring. A lot of Corl business owners would lose trading contracts if Gramlax and Linque traded directly. Of course, centuries of hate between the Wintars and Phibs will be hard to erase for some.’
He looked from Nell to Cay-Meka. ‘I don't have a problem with Phib and Wintar being one race. I have often thought we are alike in many ways. Tell me, Nell, how do you know of such a thing?’
Her mouth dried. He seemed trustworthy but she also sensed he had ulterior motives. ‘I saw it,’ she sighed.
‘Where?’ Tanat asked.
‘In my head.’ His expression didn’t change except for increased interest. ‘I see things in my head. That's how I saw Dar-Seldra.’
He sat back and whistled. ‘You saw Dar-Seldra?’
‘Yes. I think she's locked up high on a rocky hill. I’m pretty sure she's safe, but she is scared.’ Nell looked at Sam, who raised his thumb in a good-on-you salute. Cay-Meka appeared relieved and frightened at the same time. Nell hoped she wasn't making a dreadful mistake. Tanat could find Dar-Seldra and she’d be free to find the book. Please don't be evil, she silently begged him.
Nell, Sam and Cay-Meka took it in turns to tell Tanat how they came to be in the forest.
Unfurling his great wings, Tanat stood up. ‘It will be dark soon,’ he said. ‘Stay among the trees, eat some fruit and rest. I will explore the area.’
Thankful for some time out, Nell found some soft grass under a tree and sat down. She leaned back and watched Cay-Meka pick different types of fruit from bushes and hand them to Sam. His interest in the flora was evident and he questioned Cay-Meka about each piece.
Nell examined her injuries. Dry blood was smeared over her arms and legs. She touched the many deep scratches with her raw fingers and thought some might need stitches. Her ankle was black, blue and a dirty-green colour. She released what hair was left in the band and retied it. Now completely exhausted, she stretched out on the grass. Her leaden eyelids closed, but quickly opened again.
Something cold touched Nell’s face, jolting her out of sleep. It was night once more. In the full moon’s glow, she could see what looked like an exceptionally fat snake trying to curl up beside her. It was black with a row of red dots along its back from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail. She recoiled and gasped. The snake raised its head.
Its eyes were black orbs. Smaller than the croc’s but so similar they had to have the same owner.
She touched its smooth skin. ‘I didn't mean to be rude, but you surprised me.’
The snake’s muscles loosened under her touch.
‘Now where did Sam and Cay-Meka go?’ Nell mused as she surveyed the area and wondered how long she had slept. When she remembered why they had left, her empty stomach growled. She examined her arms and legs. They were nearly healed. She checked her ankle. The bruises were fading. She hardly felt a twinge when she circled her foot. ‘Oh,’ she cried softly.
The snake raised its head.
Nell stretched. Everything in near perfect working order. Some changes were definitely appreciated.
She eyed the snake. ‘Why don’t you talk to me? I know you were the crocodile and the kookaburra.’
He shook his head.
‘Do you mean you can’t talk in that form or don’t want to?’
He nodded.
‘Which question is the nod for? You can’t talk?’
He nodded again.
She wondered if he was going to nod at all her questions. ‘Is it that you don’t want to?’
He kept perfectly still.
‘Oh, okay. You can tell me when you’re in some other animal.’ Turning her thoughts to her friends, she closed her eyes and tried to find Cay-Meka. ‘I can’t find my cousin with my mind,’ she said, and stood up. ‘They should be back by now. Do you know where they are?’
A picture of Sam and Cay-Meka filled her mind. Neither appeared happy. The image widened and the same two Wintars appeared. They were close by. The pictures vanished and Nell gazed at the snake. ‘Oh.’ She realised she had connected with the snake without touching it.
‘Wow!’ A curious feeling of power encompassed her.
Nell didn't want to be caught again but she couldn't leave a Human and a night-blind Phib alone in a strange forest. She was the one the Wintars wanted, not them. She jumped up and made her way to them, keeping a lookout for anything on the ground that could make a noise if she trod on it.
The snake slithered beside her, slipping soundlessly through the fallen leaves.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE SNAKE SLITHERED AHEAD. IT DISAPPEARED INTO A clump of high grass, straight thick stalks of foliage from roots to tips.
Nell hesitated. The Wintars might be on the other side of the bushy mass. She crept forward, peered through the long leaves and moved in. She took a step, looked through more stalks and then took another. With every soft footfall her heart beat a little faster. About four steps later the thought struck her, Sam and Cay-Meka might have been captured again. Great. If that was true, what was she supposed to do? Another tread and she peered through a break in the leaves. Sam.
He sat on a wide, tree stump, looking despondent. Cay-Meka, face red, stood over him with her hands on her hips, apparently growing more impatient with every second.
‘There you are,’ Nell exclaimed, forgetting the snake was in front of her.
Sam looked up, leapt off the stump and jumped behind it. ‘Look out! A snake,’ he called out.
Cay-Meka's head twisted round but she didn't move. Relief exploded from her face at the sight of Nell, although she eyed the snake warily.
‘Oops. Sam, this is … ah …’ Nell looked at the snake and shrugged. ‘Snake.’
Sam stared at the snake. ‘I can see it’s a type of snake. I meant, get away from it.’
‘Stop being such a big baby and come out from behind there. He won't bite.’ Something further away made a sound she couldn’t place. ‘Shh,’ she hissed.
The sound increased. Footfalls. As they neared, they grew louder until they crashed through the forest towards them.
The snake, Nell and Cay-Meka joined Sam be
hind the stump. Sam didn’t look pleased with the closeness of a reptile. They crouched low.
Nell hoped the stump was wide enough to hide them all. She held her breath and waited for whatever was coming.
As the noises drew nearer, the Wintars who had captured them appeared. They were loud, as if they didn't care who heard them. She wondered what they should do if the creeps found them. If they fought, someone could be hurt or even killed. The Wintars probably wouldn’t mind either way. Sam and Cay-Meka seemed to be breathing so loudly, Nell was sure the kidnappers would hear them. Unexpected anger flashed through her and she wanted to yell at her friends to be quiet. Her thumping heart joined in the chorus. Great. The Wintars were bound to hear them. Their lumbering footsteps stopped a few metres away. She wanted more than anything to run, run for her life. If she was scared, poor Cay-Meka must be terrified.
One of them said, ‘I’m sure voices came from this way.’
The other answered, ‘If it's those brats, we'd better find them before Brarb loses his patience with us. There’s nothing here.’ They lumbered off to their left.
‘Come on, let's follow them,’ Sam urged.
Turning to answer Sam, Nell only saw darkness. She kept still, willing her eyes to focus. At last a light emerged, and in it, a form. It wasn't Sam, it was Nadar. The Book of Wexkia lay closed on his lap. Musical notes floated through the room.
Nadar became angrier at each note. His grey face took on a sluggish look and he placed the book in a large brass urn on a high side-table. In her mind, Nell turned around. There, a magnificent set of carved, double doors stood. She tried to return her thoughts back to Nadar but was unable to find him.
‘Nell!’ Sam whispered a growl. ‘Snap out of it.’
She didn't know if it was the tone of his voice or the pressure of his fingers around her arm, but she muttered, ‘Huh …? No … err … es, I mean, yes. I'm … I’m okay.’
‘So? Go on, what happened this time?’ Sam said, and let go of her arm.
