Authors: Marianne de Pierres
‘So where do we go now?’ asked Kero.
‘Those dark shadows over there could be the openings of their tunnels. We could try going down one. But they probably build false trails.’
Naif squinted ahead. ‘Are you sure?’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But if they’re like the malarms it’s likely.’
‘How do we even talk to them if we find them?’ said Kero. ‘I’ve never heard an uther speak. Most of the time you can barely
see
them in the room. It’s like they’re only visible if they want to be.’
Naif knew exactly what Kero meant. She scratched the back of her hand absentmindedly, wondering how many times an uther had been close to her on Ixion and she hadn’t even known.
‘I’ll call out,’ said Rollo.
‘No,’ said Naif. ‘There are rogue Ripers all over the island. We can’t risk our voices carrying too far. The carriage brings enough attention.’
‘Rogue?’ said Rollo.
‘Eve said that not all the Ripers followed Brand or Lenoir. Some chose to go alone. We saw one in the Grotto. It . . . it killed one of the Leaguers.’
‘Who?’ demanded Kero so fiercely she wished she hadn’t mentioned it. Kero didn’t seem stable enough to hear ill news.
‘Liam, Clash and Jarrold tried to save him,’ she said carefully. ‘His name was Brenny.’
‘Brenny!’ Anguish strangled his voice.
‘Jarrold – is that the boy from Grave you mentioned?’ said Rollo, deflecting the conversation.
‘Yes.’ The itching on her hand worsened and she scratched her skin more vehemently.
Rollo frowned. ‘What is it, Naif ?’
‘Something has –’ She glanced down. An uther stood beside her, its paw outstretched, claws extended.
It had been trying to get her attention by scratching her hand.
‘Hello . . . I’m Naif,’ she said gently, afraid that if she spoke too eagerly she would scare it away.
Kero swivelled. ‘What –?’
‘Fross!’ yelped Rollo, jumping back a step.
Naif knelt down so that her face was in line with the creature’s. ‘Lenoir told me to come here. We believe we know where Brand has taken your queen.’
The uther’s pointy nose quivered and a dry rasping noise escaped its throat. A sense of great longing filled Naif, as though the uther was projecting its feelings upon her like Lenoir did, but more gently.
‘Will you . . . one of you . . . come with us?’ Naif asked. ‘We wish to free her.’
The uther grasped her hand in its paws and she felt the sharp nails rake lightly against her palms. It pulled her hand to its warm chest.
‘I think that means yes,’ whispered Rollo.
Naif looked steadily at the uther. She banished the sliver of guilt she felt for betraying Lenoir and said, ‘Our help with finding your queen comes with one condition. You must stop serving the Ripers. No longer will you do the bidding of Lenoir or Brand or Varonessa. Or the Grave Elders.’
The uther let go of her hand and appeared to vanish before her eyes.
‘Where is it?’ said Kero.
The three of them looked around but saw only the mud ridge and the dark waste of brush and rock.
‘Gone,’ said Rollo. ‘Now what?’
‘Wait. It will return,’ said Naif.
‘You sure?’
She shrugged. She wasn’t. But they had no choice.
Rollo grunted and walked off along the ridge. Naif watched him go. Her friends had changed in the weeks she’d been gone, affected deeply and differently by what they had seen in Danskoi. Suki was harder, keener and angrier. And Rollo was no longer driven by his purpose. He seemed angry but confused as well.
‘Kero, how’s Rollo been?’ Naif asked. When Kero didn’t reply, she looked around. He was crouched in the mud, staring at his palm.
‘What is it?’
He looked up at her and turned his palm upward. ‘My badge.’
Naif fell to her knees beside him and grasped his hand. In the torchlight she could see that the badge had changed colour, the edges beginning to pucker.
‘It’s hot,’ he said, ‘and itchy. What’s that mean? I’ve just had
petite nuit
.’
Naif found she couldn’t lie. ‘Your time’s running out, Kero. We have to hurry.’
His face became wooden and he stared at her.
‘Hey!’ called Rollo, walking back towards them. ‘See that?’
Naif and Kero straightened. From across the brush waste shadows began to appear, as though springing up from the earth. As Rollo walked back to the carriage, a crowd of silent uthers gathered in front of them.
‘What the fross?’ whispered Kero.
Hundreds, thought Naif. There are hundreds of them.
She felt the scratching at her hand again and looked down. The original uther was back. At least, she thought it was him. And behind him was another smaller creature, grey in colour with black markings on its face. An uther as well, but different.
‘Unam brings Ufur,’ said the larger uther in a rusty voice.
‘Who is Ufur?’ asked Naif.
‘Ufur is Fur,’ it said. ‘Son of queen.’ Unam squeezed the last words out with difficulty, as though they hurt his mouth and tongue to shape.
‘Ufur is your prince?’
Unam nodded.
Naif bowed her head instinctively. ‘Thank you, Unam. Ufur, we hope to find your mother and free her. Can you help us?’
The small grey uther with the strange markings moved forward on its hind legs. At full height Ufur only reached her waist. Naif wondered whether the prince was still a child.
Ufur took her hand, the way Unam had done previously, however the prince brought it to his mouth. He bared his teeth and nipped her skin, leaving a tiny imprint.
Naif flinched but didn’t pull away.
‘Ufur thanks you,’ said Unam.
‘Ufur can thank me by no longer serving the Ripers or the Grave Elders.’
Ufur let go of her hand and he and Unam huddled in close, nose to nose, hind legs touching. They made rasping noises that Naif couldn’t understand.
‘Fross, Naif!’ said Rollo softly in her ear. ‘Look.’
The entire uther population had dropped down onto their paws.
Ufur moved away from Unam, who came forward again. ‘We wish to serve no one. As it was once.’
Naif nodded and echoed words Lenoir had said: ‘As it should be.’
The crouching uthers began to make hissing noises.
Ufur bounded lightly past Naif, Kero and Rollo, past the end of the carriage and back along the causeway.
Unam scratched Naif’s hand. ‘Uwass wait here.’
‘Uwass?’
He gestured to the watching uthers.
‘They will wait for us to return?’ she said.
Unam nodded.
Naif took a deep breath and walked past Kero and Rollo. If all the uthers waited here it wouldn’t be long until the Ripers came looking for them. What if they forced Unam to tell them about the rescue plan?
‘We’d best get moving,’ said Kero, striding past her. ‘I can almost smell Riper in the wind.’
By the time they caught up with Ufur at the end of the causeway, the three of them were running.
The uther stopped and waited politely for directions.
‘There is an atoll beyond the reef. We have to get there. What transport can we use?’ asked Naif.
Ufur made a sharp noise in the back of his throat and bounded ahead.
‘Fross! This is worse than taking beads,’ said Rollo, starting after the uther.
‘I wish I had some right now,’ said Kero, following.
The three ran again, chasing Ufur onto a path that led to a crossroads of sorts. Naif saw one lit path heading upwards while another, wider one, appeared to vanish into the dark.
Ufur took the dark way, slowing now, less sure of his footing.
Kero and Rollo flanked Naif, panting heavily. Naif noticed Kero pressing his forehead and swallowing.
She knew what was wrong with him. The beads had left him dehydrated.
How bad would it get for him?
Her own chest hurt from breathing so hard, and she wanted to stop and bend over to lessen the stitch in her side, but her head felt clearer, her mind sharper from the blood rushing through her veins.
The scent of the sea grew so strong she could taste salt on her tongue. Then before she knew it, the muddy path had changed to loose sand into which she sank.
‘It’s the sea,’ said Rollo. ‘Why have we never come here before?’
‘I don’t think we can get here without the carriage. The kars don’t come this direction. Listen.’
The water slapped the sand in front of them now and Ufur had pulled up just short of the waterline.
Naif peered across the dark water and was suddenly plagued by doubt. How could Brand have hidden the queen so close to the uthers’ dam without them knowing? Perhaps they had travelled to the atoll from a different direction? Joel – Clash – had told her that hiding things in plain sight worked best. He had done that at home, secreting his music among his father’s old prayer books, right next to his prayer mat.
The lights from Ixion afforded them only a dim impression of the sea’s expanse. The wind had picked up as well, blowing her hair about her face. She caught it in her fingers, twirling it out of her eyes. A short distance out, the flicker of white caught her attention where the waves broke against a reef.
Just beyond that, she thought.
It has to be.
‘How do we get out there?’ she asked Ufur.
His reply was to move further down the beach to where a small sandbank was just visible above the water. A distance above the waterline, in line with the bank, he began to dig, scraping furiously with his claws and tail.
‘Come on,’ said Kero. ‘He needs help.’
The three joined Ufur digging into the sand. In a short time they uncovered something black and slick, like the discarded shell of an oyster but wider than Lenoir’s carriage.
‘It’s a grumehl,’ said Rollo. ‘Like the ones the Grave Elders drive.’
Ufur made a discordant noise as though disagreeing. He thumped his tail against the casing and it made a hollow sound.
‘What’s a grumehl?’ asked Kero.
‘A carriage,’ said Naif. ‘Powered by long-coal and used by Grave Elders. But this sounds empty. Grumehls are made from thick metal.’
‘Naif, have you ever wondered where the grumehls came from? We don’t have a foundry on Grave that can cast such a thing.’
Naif stopped digging. ‘Are you sure?’ Again, her own ignorance of her world irritated her.
‘I know it.’
‘Perhaps the uthers make more than the clothes and food on Ixion?’ suggested Kero.
‘Maybe they’re everywhere, not just here,’ said Rollo.
Naif wondered why she hadn’t thought of that before. Or questioned how things were made in Grave.
The three of them looked at Ufur.
‘Why do you have a boat here?’ Naif asked the uther.
It uttered something in its own language; an explanation that none of them could understand. Then it climbed onto the part of the casing that they’d uncovered and began to tap its tail in a complex pattern.
‘What the fross?’ said Rollo.
‘Get back!’ said Naif. She fell back to avoid the cascade of sand as the object rose of its own volition.
The night filled with the sound of clicking and the casing emerged from the sand, jerking into an oval shape as a hidden mechanism locked its parts into place.
Ufur slid from the top onto the beach and bounced lightly on his hind legs. He pointed with his paws to a long, narrow protrusion on the casing.
‘I think he wants us to pull it,’ said Rollo.
Naif moved to the end and gripped the handle. It shifted easily. ‘It’s light.’
The boys joined her and together they pulled it towards the tideline. As soon as the oyster-shaped vessel made contact with the water, it sprang out of their hands and rolled over. After another series of clicks, a section of the top side slid open.
Ufur leapt from shore to boat with one large, easy bound.
‘Do you trust it?’ Kero asked the other two.
Rollo looked doubtful but Naif rolled up her trousers and stepped into the water. ‘The prince wouldn’t risk drowning.’
The sea felt surprisingly warm on her legs and the undertow was almost insignificant; not like the chill blue mass that flowed around Sanctus. She ran her hands along the smooth sides of the boat, feeling for something to grip. Although it had sounded hollow, the strange craft seemed strong.
Something brushed her leg. She stifled a scream as she plucked a length of soft kelp from around her calf.
‘Boost me up,’ she said to Rollo.
He and Kero linked hands and Naif used them as a step, catapulting into the boat.
It rocked wildly for a moment and then settled. She searched the insides and found a pole that looked to be part of an old oar. She thrust one end of it over the side for Kero.