Nightpeople (24 page)

‘Somewhere to hide and rest.'

‘It's like the cavern. The rock, I mean.'

It was true. Like the council chamber, the walls of the small room were smooth, carved and hard and cold – dead rock.

‘I know. I think it was part of another tunnel that got closed off in the Shifting at the same time as the one we just came through opened up.'

‘It's old.'

‘True, but comfortable. And safe. Only me and Dreamer Wanji know about it. Even the other members of the council can't find you here.'

Saria settled by the fire.

‘What happens now?'

‘Nothing. At least, not for a while. You try and get some sleep. Proper sleep, this time, not half dead like you were before.'

‘Will you stay with me?'

‘For a while. Then I'll have to go. You'll need food and water if you're to stay here for a couple of days. And I've got some jobs to do for Wanji.'

‘Jobs?'

Dariand offered her a tight smile.

‘Let's just say that Slander isn't the only one who'll be keeping an eye on things up there.'

He set about unrolling one of the sleeping mats in the alcove.

‘The fire should burn for a few hours and I'll be back with more fuel long before it dies. In the meantime, here …' From the bag he produced a water-skin and a few strips of dried meat. ‘It's the best I can manage at the moment. I'll bring something more filling down later.'

‘That's fine.' She was starving. It had been ages since she'd last eaten. As she chewed, Dariand settled in the other sleeping alcove and watched her.

‘Once you've finished, lie down. I'll wait with you a bit.'

The dung-fire filled the room with a warm, pungent scent. Saria finished her scant meal, took a quick draught from the skin, then lay back on the thin sleeping mat. Through it, she was uncomfortably aware of the coldness of the stone beneath. There was nothing in it. No earthwarmth.

‘Do you think they'll send me back to Olympic?'

‘They can try. I won't let them.'

‘Even if they do, it won't do them any good. I'm not reaching again. Ever.'

‘You don't know that.'

‘Yes, I do.' She rolled on her side to look at Dariand. ‘I used to like it. Reaching. Back in the valley I used to love it. When I was reaching into a lizard or something it was just like … I dunno … like the only time I was really alive. It's not like that any more.'

‘Why not.'

‘It just isn't. Every time I do it someone gets hurt. Dreamer Baanti, the dog. I nearly hurt you, back at that waterhole.'

‘You didn't know what you were doing.'

‘I do now. And I know what can happen because of it.'

Dariand didn't answer, and after a moment Saria changed the subject.

‘Do you think Darri's right? Do you think the call could be my mother?'

‘I think Darri talks a lot of dung.' There was sudden vehemence in his voice. ‘She always has.'

‘But what if …'

‘No, Saria. The Nightpeople don't keep pets. Jani was dead when they took her away.'

‘If she wasn't …'

‘Then there's nothing we can do about it anyway.'

Saria didn't have an answer, so she rolled onto her back again. Silence thickened around them and eventually Dariand stood up. When he spoke, his voice had softened.

‘If you wake up, don't try to find your way back out alone. It's easy to get turned around down here and if you get lost we'll never find you. There's a pail in that corner if you need to … you know.'

Saria nodded her understanding, and Dariand stepped around the fire to stand over her.

‘I'm sorry to leave you here on your own, but … I'll be back soon. Don't worry.'

He leant down, and to Saria's surprise planted a quick kiss on her forehead. ‘Try and sleep.'

The cool, dry touch of his lips against her skin lingered for a long time after the flickering glow of his torch had faded down the outside passageway.

SARIA!

The call seemed to ring and echo off the hard walls. Saria woke up. The fire had burnt low, only a few dull embers still alight. Beyond them, Dariand's sleeping form was a black pile in the other alcove.

She'd lost track of the time she'd spent in the little chamber Dariand had brought meals and water and stayed with her when he could, but Dreamer Wanji needed him up in Woormra to watch the Olympic mob and keep attention away from the arriving Dreamers. So most of the time she'd spent on her own, sleeping and recovering. The throbbing twist in her arm had gradually given way to a dull ache.

When the call woke her, it was different. Displaced, somehow. It didn't surge into her from out of the ground, but came as a faint echo. As though it was held apart from her by a barrier

Rising, she turned round slowly. Dariand still slumbered, snoring slightly, and the light from the fire was little more than a low glow across the floor. After a moment's hesitation, she ducked her head and crawled out into the passageway outside.

Until now, she'd heeded Dariand's warnings about not wandering. The thought of getting trapped or lost somewhere in the inky darkness was enough to keep her in the little chamber, imprisoned as effectively as she had been in the pit at Olympic. It was different, of course. This time she had light, and food, and water. And company, too. With nothing else to do, she and Dariand had talked, whenever he could get away to join her.

He'd told her about his childhood growing up in the valley, about learning to hunt and follow the vaultlights with Dreamer Wanji. He'd told her about the places in the Darklands he'd visited – places like Coob, with its underground huts and where the people had to climb down through the earth in tunnels like these to get to their well of deep, cold springwater. Of Mooka, which had been a Skypeople town before the Shifting, and where old Skypeople huts and buildings were still dotted between those of the Darklanders.

‘It's a bad town, Mooka,' he said. ‘Barely ever got a clean baby out of there. Just something about the place.'

Saria thought about the old camel woman, Gan, and her lost child.

Those conversations had filled the long, dim hours. And through them, Saria had begun to look at Dariand with different eyes. Until now, she'd always thought of him as nothing more than Dreamer Wanji's nightwalker – he was good at reading the vaultlights and finding water and food, but it was the old Dreamer who decided where he would travel and why.

The more he talked, though, the more she understood that that wasn't true. Dariand did what he did because he cared. He actually thought there was a future. Even in the dry, dead wastelands of the Darklands, he could see hope. Some of that came from Dreamer Wanji, sure, but a lot of it was in Dariand himself.

Outside the chamber, only a dim cast of light escaped through the narrow gap. Right away she felt the difference in the rock. The rough, sundered stone of the narrow access passage seemed so much more alive than the dead hardness of the Skypeople's tunnels. She could almost feel the earthwarmth pulsing around her and had to consciously strengthen her mental barriers against it.

Below her, the passageway slanted into darkness, and, slowly picking her way as much by feel as by sight, she edged her way downwards, trailing the fingers of her left hand along the wall. The junction of the two tunnels was just a little way down and when she reached it she was relieved to find she could look back up the right-hand passage and still see the dull shine of light spilling out from the hidden chamber. It was a comforting sight.

SARIA!

Here, nestled in the living rock of the access tunnel, the call was normal again. It almost rocked her on her feet as it filled her with earthwarmth, even as she tried to hold it back. She almost surrendered to it. There was nothing and nobody to reach down here. But slowly she strengthened her resolve against it, and pushed it back down.

It did bring with it one unexpected benefit, though – direction. Suddenly she knew which way was nightwards, and with that knowledge everything around her seemed to fall into perspective. The tunnels, the chamber where Dariand still slept, even her memory of the trip up from the enormous council cavern, all dropped into a neat orientation in her mind. In a flash, Saria knew that if she wanted to she could probably find her own way back down there. Perhaps even back out though the main tunnel and up into Woormra.

The left-hand branch of the fork whistled quietly with fresh air and Saria breathed in deeply, closing her eyes and enjoying the coolness across her face. After days in the close confines of the tiny chamber, she'd become immune to its odour – the smell of burning dung and her own waste.

The air that flowed out of the rock tasted good. So clean that even the tiny movement of it across her skin was as refreshing as a splash of water across her face.

With her eyes closed, she took a small step into the breathing tunnel, sensing the rock as it closed over her head. Inside the opening, the air washed around her entire body, prickling her skin into gooseflesh.

She kept her eyes closed tight, knowing that if she opened them the darkness would probably swamp her and she'd panic. Instead, she just edged forward, step by step along the narrowing tunnel, picturing her progress in her mind.

The roof dropped lower and gradually Saria found herself becoming more and more hunched until she had to drop onto all-fours and crawl. She soon reached a point where further progress would involve lying flat on her belly and wriggling like a snake. This must have been the spot where Dariand had been stopped.

Should
I? she wondered, toying with the idea of pushing even further. It was possible that she'd be able to make it where a man of Dariand's size couldn't. But what if she was wrong?

Sighing, Saria backed out until she felt the roof lifting above her again. Then she stood and walked back down to the fork before opening her eyes.

‘Saria!' Dariand's voice rang urgently down the passageway, just as she reached the junction.

‘I'm down here. By the fork.'

Light flickered brighter as Dariand kindled his torch then slid out and hurried down to her. He didn't try to hide his annoyance.

‘Bloody night spirits, girl! You scared the life out of me, vanishing like that!'

‘I just wanted a breath of air. I'm sick of being cooped up.'

‘It's not for much longer. The council should be meeting today.'

‘When will we go down there?'

‘You won't. Dreamer Wanji thinks it would be best to keep you out of sight until everything's been sorted out.'

‘But …'

‘No. On this I agree with him. Don't worry, I'll argue your case.'

‘I should be allowed to hear what gets said about me.'

‘No.'

His tone made it clear that this was the end of the discussion.

‘How far up there have you been?' Saria indicated the darkness from which she'd only recently emerged.

‘Not far. It's only a little way before it gets too tight. You didn't go up, did you?'

‘No,' she lied.

‘Good. If you got stuck …'

‘I know. You'd never find me.' It had been Dariand's favourite catchcry these last few days. Now, though, with her newfound sense of direction, Saria wasn't certain she agreed with him.

‘Good. Don't forget it, then.' Dariand nodded back up the passageway. ‘Can you get yourself back if I keep going from here?'

‘Of course.' Her retort came out sounding more sharp than she'd intended.

‘No need to be like that.' He grinned to let her know that he wasn't truly mad. ‘I'm gonna go and check in with Wanji. If the council meeting starts, I might not be able to get back to you until afterwards. You'll be alright?'

‘Go,' she told him. He turned and walked a little way down the tunnel before stopping and calling back to her.

‘Saria?'

‘Yeah?'

‘Don't worry about the council, eh? Whatever gets said down there, I'll be looking out for you. Just promise me you'll wait here.'

She didn't answer, just nodded. Reassured, Dariand turned and continued down the sloping tunnel and out of sight. Saria watched his torchlight fade, and breathed out loudly, the sound echoing along the stone walls.

At least she hadn't needed to lie to him.

Not out loud, at any rate.