I gave the needle key to Lupe.
‘Papa said not to open the locket until he died.’
I took her hand.
She stared down at the key as though she had never seen anything like it before.
‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’
I nodded. Lupe nodded too, slowly, as if she was trying force the fact into her brain. Her face was oddly blank.
Lupe took off the locket and slotted the key into the lock. There was a faint click, and it sprang open. Out came a surprising amount of water, and then a sodden piece of paper, folded into a square that fitted neatly inside.
Lupe was about to unfold it but I touched her hand lightly to tell her to be careful. The water would have made the paper fragile. Lupe passed it to me, her own hands shaking. I peeled it open. It had been folded many times, and the paper was so thin I felt sure it would rip.
Eventually, I spread the letter out on Lupe’s lap. The ink had bled slightly around the edges but the words were clear. I read the first lines before I could help it.
My daughter,
If you are reading this, then I am no longer with you. I wrote this so that you could know all the things I could not bring myself to tell you when living
I caught myself, and turned to look at Lupe. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, and her eyes were so sad I looked away again, fiddling with the remaining keys.
Minutes passed. Everything seemed quiet and still, except Lupe’s light breathing and the slight twitch in her gangly leg. I waited as she turned the paper over to read the other side. After another minute or so, she let out a long sigh, her body going slack.
Then she carefully folded the paper, picked up the locket and put the letter back inside. She closed it and threw it with all her might into the river.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I don’t want it.’ Tears were dripping from her chin. I reached out to comfort her, but she moved away.
‘What… what did it say?’
‘That my father is everything the Banished said he was.’ Her voice was strangely dispassionate. ‘And worse.’
‘Lupe, I’m so sorry he died . . .’
She looked at me. Her face was not sad any more, but angry.
‘I’m not.’
I did not know what I was about to say, but just then we heard a sloshing sound, something disturbing the water upstream. I didn’t feel the pain in my stomach that I’d felt when a Tibicena had approached, but still I grabbed Miss La and we left the riverbank, ducking behind the treeline. I gripped Lupe tightly as a large shape came into view.
It took me a moment to realize. Then I was up and running again, sending the hen spiralling.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
The next instant I was hugging Pablo so tightly I heard the breath whoosh out of him.
‘Isabella? What—’
‘You’re here! How?’ The relief flooding my body felt like eating all the dandelion root in the world.
‘Don’t sound so disappointed,’ he said, returning the hug so awkwardly I felt my cheeks flush and I stepped back. ‘But how are you here? I saw you taken by the Banished. I tried to follow but I lost you in the dark.’ His voice had a husky tone to it. ‘I thought I wouldn’t see you again.’
He looked around, catching sight of Lupe. She was standing by the riverbank. I could not read her expression.
‘Is that the Adori girl?’ said Pablo. ‘Where’s Adori?’
‘He stayed behind with the Banished,’ I said carefully, aware that Lupe could hear us. ‘To fight.’
‘Fight what?’
‘The Tibicenas. What they call demon dogs.’
Pablo’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his fringe. ‘Demon dogs? Like in the myth?’
I nodded.
‘I see.’ Pablo’s tone was mocking. He caught sight of Miss La splashing around on the bank like a suffocating fish and again raised his eyebrows. ‘What is happening here?’
‘We don’t have time for this,’ Lupe exclaimed impatiently.
‘She’s right,’ I said. ‘We have to get to Gromera.’
‘Agreed,’ said Pablo. ‘If we follow the river—’
‘Isa knows,’ interrupted Lupe. ‘She’s been directing us fine so far.’
She picked up Miss La, who sat docile in the crook of her arm, and began striding down the river.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Pablo jerked his head at her retreating back.
‘She’s been through a lot,’ I said, wondering what the letter had said. Pablo fell into step beside me.
‘What really happened?’
I told him about waking up at the Banished camp, about Ana, and Marquez trying to take the Governor’s place.
‘So Adori was there? I saw him running away when the men got attacked.’
‘Well, he came back.’
‘Unlike me, you mean?’ Pablo said sharply. ‘I did try to follow, but they took the horses and—’
I shook my head. ‘I’m not saying that. I’m saying he tried to make it right. When the Tibicenas attacked… what’s so funny?’
‘That you can even say that word with a straight face—’
‘They are real!’
‘What did they look like?’
I tried to explain.
‘Sounds like a wolf to me.’
‘It’s the way they make you feel. Doce says—’
‘Doce?’
‘One of the Banished – Ana’s daughter. She says they drive you outside yourself. You feel them coming. Your insides go funny, like a storm in your stomach.’
‘What’s that meant to mean?’ said Pablo, smirking. “‘Storm in your stomach”? Sounds like what happens after eating your da’s cooking.’
‘You wouldn’t be laughing if you’d been there,’ I said, flatly. I suddenly felt exhausted. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to get home and see Da. Not even my half-finished map made me want to stay in the Forbidden Territories any more.
‘You tired?’ His face was kinder now. I shook my head even as I yawned. ‘You sure? I could carry you for a bit.’
I looked at him sharply in case he was teasing, but he was holding out his arms. Attaching the Governor’s keys to my belt, I checked Lupe was not watching, then hesitantly wrapped my arms around his neck. He lifted me and under the smell of sweat and blood there was lavender again, fainter than ever.
Breathing it in, I listened to the rhythmic sloshing of his feet. I could not believe he was here. And Lupe was ahead, chattering away to Miss La. If I let myself forget what lay behind, it almost felt all right. Almost.
I closed my eyes and floated on a deep, black ocean that sparkled and shone, reflecting a clear night sky full of stars. Across the water came a boat made of glowing wood, so light it barely skimmed the sea’s surface. As the boat approached I saw swirling carvings on its sides, and in the shallow hull stood my family. Not just Da, but Ma and Gabo too. All three were pale as moonlight, and glowed with an aura as wondrous as the vessel they sailed in. Gabo stretched out his fingers and, as the dream-night shone around us, I took his hand.
‘Isabella, look!’
I blinked blearily into the midday glare. ‘What is it?’
I felt suddenly awake. Ahead, the ground seemed to drop away into nothing. Except I knew it was not nothing – it was Arintan. We were coming to the edge of the ridge the expedition had followed on its outward journey.
Pablo set me down, steadying me as the blood prickled back into my legs. ‘Nearly home,’ he said.
I walked to the edge of the waterfall and peered over. ‘It’s a long drop.’
Lupe looked too, then passed Miss La to me and without pausing scrambled halfway down the rocks. She tucked her skirts up and jumped lightly down, landing with a quiet splash. I gaped at her as she climbed back up simple as a cat, barely panting. ‘Not so bad.’
‘Show off,’ mumbled Pablo.
It was as I turned to tell him off that I felt it: the pushi
ng away, my insides twisting. Pablo’s face creased and he held his stomach. ‘What is that?’
‘Oh, no,’ said Lupe frantically. ‘Oh, no, no, no!’
‘Run!’ I shouted, just as a huge shape materialized behind Pablo.
But there was no time. Pablo turned to see the Tibicena, its hackles raised along its spine, the slash of its mouth opening into a booming roar, like a thousand rocks smashing down a cliff.
‘Help me!’ I yelled, heaving at a boulder by the waterfall’s edge.
Pablo lifted it, waiting until the creature was within range and then hurling it easy as a skimmed pebble. It hit the Tibicena hard, trapping its leg.
‘Go!’ I shoved Lupe towards the lip of the ridge and threw a squawking Miss La to her as she landed at the bottom.
I chanced a look back. The Tibicena had freed itself but seemed to be struggling to stand, its back leg hanging oddly. Pablo grabbed my arms and half pushed me over, crouching on the slippery surface to lower me.
Then I was falling the last few metres, landing on the soft mud of the riverbed next to Lupe. Pablo splashed down beside us, sounding like Gabo falling into the clay mine. For one, wonderful heartbeat I thought we had done it, had escaped.
But then the Tibicena loomed over the ledge, readying itself to jump.
Pablo urged us forward. ‘The path’s over there. Run!’
I sloshed after him but Lupe stumbled, going down hard against the rocky side of the waterfall. Miss La was off and scrabbling to the trees. I wrenched my arm from Pablo’s grip and ran to try to help Lupe to her feet, but she was a dead weight in my arms, her terrified eyes fixed on the dark shape above us.
Pablo’s momentum had carried him further downstream, and he spun around to come back for Lupe and me. Too late. I felt the Tibicena’s shadow thunder over like a wave as the creature threw its broken body down between us, reeling around to face the waterfall. To face Lupe and me.
Pablo searched for a weapon. He picked up a stone and threw it at the Tibicena’s flank but it only glanced off the matted fur.
‘Go!’ I shouted desperately as Lupe and I backed away. ‘You have to warn Gromera!’
The Tibicena drew back its lips in a snarl, black saliva stringing down to the ground.
Pablo’s face was set. ‘I’m not leaving you!’
He grabbed a pointed stick from a pile of branches – the firewood we had helped collect only days before – and jabbed it hard into the Tibicena’s injured leg. The beast roared as it rounded on Pablo, lifting an enormous paw. Its claws slashed through the air, catching Pablo across the face.
I saw his eyes go blank, and he fell back against the riverbank, motionless. Blood blossomed across the water towards me. Pablo’s blood.
The Tibicena reared as if to strike again. I began to scream.
I screamed Pablo’s name, I screamed at the Tibicena to stay away from him, and Lupe screamed with me. He was not dead. He could not be dead.
We started throwing slick pebbles from the riverbed and splashing our feet, trying to get the Tibicena to leave Pablo, to turn towards us.
It worked.
Lupe and I fell silent, our breath coming in tight gasps. The Tibicena was preparing to attack, taking its time. Beyond it I saw Miss La’s tracks in the dusty ground by the trees, but for Lupe and me, there was nowhere left to go.
I took one last look at Pablo. Was that movement in his chest? A rise and fall, barely a whisper, rippling his white tunic?
‘Isa,’ squeaked Lupe. ‘Now what?’
I pulled her backwards blindly, through the thin stream of water and into the cave. We backed right up inside the large chamber I had reached on my first visit to Arintan. I felt the horizontal striations of the rocks against my back, and tried to summon Gabo as the Tibicena appeared at the mouth of the cave.
The smell was rot and rage and sweat. My insides wrenched and turned. I wanted it over. Lupe found my hand.
It sprang, and Lupe pulled me down. I heard the rush of air as the Tibicena launched itself at us. I cringed, bracing myself for its weight to crush us, for its claws to rip into us—
But it never came.
There was an ear-splitting crack! as the rocks behind me gave way. The force of its leap had carried the Tibicena straight through the wall, and a few seconds later we heard a sickening crunch.
Hollow. The back of the waterfall was hollow.
We crouched, frozen to the spot.
‘Are you all right?’ I croaked.
‘Never better.’ Lupe’s voice was high and small.
I hiccuped out a short laugh. My belly and ribs ached and I felt dizzier than ever as I looked around.
‘We should go.’ Lupe’s face was graver than I had ever seen it. ‘Pablo.’
I shuddered, remembering how still he had been, his barely-there breath. Cold spiked through my chest.
I took Lupe’s outstretched hand and pushed against the shattered wall to stand up.
A mistake.
A grinding sound rose through the silence. The base of the wall gave way behind me. As I lost my balance, I tried to let go of Lupe’s hand, but she held fast.
Together, we plummeted into dark.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Can you stand at the point you are at, in any room – your room, say – and accurately remember it? Could you walk outside into the yard and make me a drawing of it in the dirt? It’s only a small, simple room. You’ve lived there ever since you could walk. Two beds, probably a sleeping cat on one, a chest full of clothes.
What about scale? We can’t draw it the size it is, even a small room like that. We need to scale it down. Would you give me a matchbox bed under a tiger cat? Could you remember the size of everything in relation to everything else? This relationship is more and more important the larger we go. A tree in its place in a forest, an island tethered in the sea. In Ma’s map, the only one we have of the Forgotten Territories, each kind of tree is marked. The detail matters. Even in mapping your bedroom.
Landmarks next. A circle for rest and comfort: the cat and the bed. An X for danger where the loose nail sticks out of the chest. A snaking line for the voice line between your bed and Gabo’s.
Perhaps this is it. This simple square, marked in the dirt. This is a map you could go and buy from any map-maker, anywhere in the world. If they’d seen the room, this is what they would give you. An accurate measure of itself. But could it show the feel of the place?
This is what a cartographer does. We make the maps come alive. Your room would have the quality of home. You would look at it, and know it not as a room, but as your room, where you have spent your childhood. And we can make maps of places we were years ago. Here, on Joya, I could make you a map of Afrik that would have you breathing the incense of the markets until you were dizzy with it. My map of the Frozen Circle could have you reaching for fur socks and running from a white bear! Well, almost . . .
That’s a way off for you, little one. But this is a start! You have drawn your first map. Write your name across the top. Here, you can use my peacock quill.
I-S-A-B-E-L-L-A.
Perfect.
I shifted. Dark rushed in, along with the echo of my own heavy breathing.
Crack!
Something broke close to my ear. I tried to move, but Lupe had landed across my leg and arm. She was unconscious, chest rising shallowly.
Crack!
This time, something broke beneath me. I put my free hand out and a wave of nausea rippled through me as thick, stinking fur met my fingertips. That noise . . . the ribs of the Tibicena were giving way beneath our weight.
With a final glut of cracking, I heaved Lupe off and scuttled away from the two shadows until I hit a damp wall of rock. The last moments before our fall were coming back: Pablo trying to save us, being struck down. His blood spreading through the water.
I closed my eyes.
‘When I count to ten,’ I murmured to the blackness, ‘everything will be all right.
One, two, three…’
But by ‘ten’ the world was still as cloaked as ever. The satchel was pressing into my back. I pulled it out and felt inside for the wood-light. Its glow dispelled the darkness and I looked over at Lupe, who groaned and sat up gingerly.
‘Are you all right?’
She opened her mouth to reply and blood spilt down her chin.
‘You’re hurt!’ I gasped. ‘Ith’s fine. I bith my tongue.’ She stuck it out for me to see.
The bite wasn’t deep. I gave her a gulp of water, and she swilled it around her mouth, spitting out red.
‘What happened?’
‘We fell.’ I pointed up to where the gap was, at least five metres above us, rock dust still streaming down.
‘We fell all that way? And nothing’s broken?’
I shook my head. ‘You can thank our friend.’
Lupe followed my gaze and yelped, dragging herself away from the broken body of the Tibicena, tar-like blood still leaking from its muzzle.
‘Ugh! It’s… it is dead?’
If it wasn’t before we landed on it, it was now. Lupe did not seem to want to get any closer to it than I did, letting out a long breath. I looked up towards the hole from which we had fallen. It was barely visible.
Lupe craned her neck. ‘Do you think we can climb it?’
I ran my hands over the rock wall. The rock was slimy and crumbled at my touch. My fingers came away damp.
‘We can try.’
There were no hand-holds to speak of, so I tried emptying the satchel, climbing on to Lupe’s shoulders and throwing it, hoping for the strap to hook the ledge. It did not get close. We piled the rocks from the collapsed wall on top of each other, and this time Lupe climbed on to my shoulders, stretching towards the gap, but even without my shaking knees it was still an impossible distance away. All the time we called for Pablo, but there was no answer. I tried not to think what that meant, even though I knew he would come if he could.
Lupe sank to the floor, burying her head in her hands. For a moment it sounded like she was laughing, but then the gulps resolved into stifled sobs. I reached out to help her up but she shrugged me off. Her nose was running.
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