Helix and the Arrival (9 page)

Sometimes loneliness isn't such a bad thing. There's no one to tell you you're wrong or stare at you like you've got rocks in your head.

I take my time walking to Newstone, especially on those sections of the Common Way that overlook the lowlands. The river people and their roundhouses have taken on a new light. No longer are they distant blobs down below, shaped by the stories in Speel's tablets. They're now something much more real.

I reach Newstone and strum Veldo's bandi-twang. He immediately appears at the entrance, his long arms flapping by his side.

‘Helix!' he says. ‘Come in! You've arrived at the perfect time. Mason has, like, just prepared some fern slugs he collected this morning.'

I enter Veldo's cave and Mason offers me a slug from a stone platter. ‘Here,' he says, ‘try one. They're, like, big and juicy at this time of year.'

‘Thanks,' I say. ‘I've never eaten fern slugs before.'

Veldo waits in anticipation while I lower the slippery slug into my mouth.

‘What do you think?' he says.

The slimy texture of the slug in my mouth is a bit weird at first. Then I bite down and it explodes, its juices lathering my tongue. ‘Mmm … Delicious,' I say. ‘The flavour is soft and sweet, much milder than the charcoaled meat I'm used to.' I'm wondering if I could hunt a fern slug and present it as my Arrival offering.

‘You've come for the writing skins, yar?' says Veldo.

‘Yes, and to give you back your rock. Thanks for letting me borrow it. It's beautiful.' I hand it back to him.

Veldo cradles the rock in both hands. I can see it's precious to him.

‘Where did you get it from?'

‘It came from … Let me see … Like, my father's father's father.'

‘Your great-grandfather,' I say.

‘Yar, that's right. The story goes he and his friends, like, found the rock in the river.'

‘The river?'

‘Yar, I know it sounds weird,' says Veldo, making crazy arm movements. ‘He used to, like, tell the story to my father when he was a little boy, and my father told the story to me.'

‘I don't think it sounds crazy. My great-grandfather used to tell stories about the river as well. His name was Herb and he was friends with Korg the Magnificent, back when he was known as Crev.'

‘No way!' says Veldo, in a flurry of arms. ‘So was my great-grandfather! His name was Vedgar.'

‘Vedgar,' I repeat, but the name doesn't seem familiar. ‘Yeah, everyone in my family thought Herb's stories were made-up.'

Veldo turns the rock over between his fingers. ‘I like to imagine Vedgar's story is true, no matter what people think.'

It would be great to stay and talk some more with Veldo but if I don't leave soon it will be dark before I return to Rockfall. We say our goodbyes and I take the remaining writing skins.

The walk back along the Common Way has me thinking about the river and long-gone cavemen like Herb and Vedgar. Why did no one believe their stories about the river and beyond? If only Herb were still around, I could ask him about his adventures.

I try to walk faster, now. The sun is getting close to the landline and chill is replacing warmth.

Then an arrow hits me in the chest.

Instinctively, I go down on one knee.

I look up and see Steckman, the cave-to-cave salesman, standing above me.

‘Got you,' he says. ‘Do you like it? The latest in my new cavekid range: sap arrows.'

The arrow, which I can see now doesn't have an arrowhead, is stuck to my chest with a thick glob of tree
sap. I pull it off, stand back up, and hand it to Steckman. ‘It's great,' I say. ‘I wish I'd played with something like that when I was growing up. Maybe then I'd be a better hunter by now.'

‘That's the idea,' he says. ‘Teach them young but make it fun. Hmm … That's pretty good! Perhaps that could be my sales pitch …' He drums his fingers on his orange-bearded chin.

‘Sounds catchy,' I say. ‘Have you sold any yet?'

‘Not in Rockfall,' he says. ‘No one wants to have fun in Rockfall – it's all serious faces and watching the heavens in case something drops down.'

‘Where's Porgo?' I ask. ‘You didn't take him to Rockfall, did you?' I have a picture in my mind of Porgo being slow-roasted on a spit above hot coals.

‘Do I look daft to you, Helix?' Steckman gives two quick whistles and from the bushes leaps Porgo, gurgling and snorting with delight.

She stampedes towards me and, just like last time, knocks me over and pins me to the ground with her bristly belly, licking me slowly from chin to forehead. It's very gross.

‘I've been making her travel below the Common Way, lest I should meet a group of hunters as we walk,' says Steckman, unconcerned that his trainee pet is covering my face in swamp-boar saliva.

‘Can. You. Get. Her. Off. Me?' I splutter.

‘Porgo, leave!' says Steckman.

Porgo lets out a blather of gruntish squeals and lifts her bristly belly off me.

‘Porgo, sit!' commands Steckman.

She slumps down with her back against a rock, looking a bit gloomy.

‘Are you going to Newstone now?' I say, wiping the swamp-boar spittle off my face.

‘Yes. And then I'll head to the Dark Side. They're not big on trading but I like to visit them from time to time.'

Steckman must be desperate to trade his goods if he's willing to venture to the Dark Side.

‘And then will you go to the lowlands? To the river people?' I ask.

‘Most definitely. I think sap arrows will be a big seller there.' He twirls an arrow about in front of his face.

‘Yes, river folk are good with a bow and arrow,' I say. ‘Actually, one shot at me yesterday.'

‘Very funny, Helix,' says Steckman.

‘I'm not joking,' I say. ‘I was looking across the river from the long grass beyond the low woods, and one of the river people – a girl – shot at me. Twice!'

‘And?' Steckman is interested in my story now.

‘Both arrows went over my head and into a tree.'

‘Then you can be sure she wasn't aiming for you,' says Steckman. ‘River people don't miss.'

‘I guess she must've liked me then.'

Steckman doesn't react to my last comment – he's distracted by his foot.

‘What's the matter?' I ask.

‘This toe of mine.' He shows me his big toe. It's swollen and red.

‘That looks painful,' I say.

‘Yes. It's slowing me down more and more as each day passes. Never mind. I'll have it seen to in the lowlands.'

‘How will it help your toe to visit the lowlands?' I ask.

‘The river people understand medicine,' he says. ‘Whenever I need a remedy, I seek it from their medicine man.'

‘Is he like Krike?' I ask. Krike is Rockfall's medicine man.

‘Er … Not really. Old Krike with his sack of potions isn't what I'd call a medicine man. I've seen him do more harm than good over the years.'

‘How do you cross the river?' I ask him.

‘Now you are asking too much, Helix.'

‘So there's a crossing point? There must be. The river looks too wide and fast-flowing for folk to swim –'

‘I'd best be on my way, young Helix,' interrupts Steckman. ‘Take care.' He leaves, favouring his good foot, with a jangle from the sacks that hang from both sides of his body. As he limps away, he lets out two short whistles.

Porgo waddles to her feet and trots obediently after him.

I return to Rockfall just as the light is starting to fade. The first thing I notice is a commotion in front of Ug's family's cave.

I move closer and see that Ugthorn is lying on the ground, not moving. He has a bloody wound in his side. Ug is kneeling beside him and he too is covered in blood.

It seems that the whole of Rockfall is circling them, waiting for the next scene to unfold in this tragedy.

I see Saleeka. ‘What happened?' I ask her.

She has her hands covering her face and takes a while to respond. ‘They were hunting deep in the woods, Ug and his father. A sabre-tooth leapt from behind some thick bushes and started to attack Ug …'

‘His father tried to save him,' I say, filling in the gaps.

‘Yes. His father did save him. But now Ugthorn …'

I look at Ugthorn again. His huge chest is barely rising and falling. Fresh blood is trickling from somewhere under his loincloth. Ug's face is white, his mother is sobbing and the Uglets are crying. Their father is dying.

‘How did they make it back?' I say.

‘Ugthorn managed to kill the sabre-tooth, even with his wounds. Then Ug carried his father back.'

‘Ug
carried
Ugthorn back?'

‘Yes, all the way back up through the woods to Rockfall.'

I feel a lump forming in my throat and I want to go to Ug. But Ug is grieving with his mother and the Uglets, so I stay a short distance back.

The crowd divides into two as the figure of Korg the Magnificent, closely followed by Speel, arrives.

Ugthorn's wife, Edla, falls at Korg's feet and says, ‘Please, oh magnificent one. Please do something … Please …'

Korg looks around and fixes his eyes on me. ‘Helix, go and fetch Krike. Be quick.'

He's chosen me because he knows I can run. Without answering him, I depart as fast as my legs will carry me.

Krike lives in a cave along the Common Way, halfway between Rockfall and the Dark Side, in the opposite direction around the mountain from Newstone.

I run as fast as I can, but the light is fading fast. I arrive at Krike's cave in total darkness and double over to catch my breath. My leg muscles are throbbing with tiredness.

There's a torch burning at the entrance, which tells me Krike is inside.

‘Hello? Is anyone there? It's Helix of Rockfall,' I say.

There's no reply, but this is an emergency, so I do what I would never normally do and enter the cave without being invited.

The first thing I notice is a heavy odour. It's an animal odour and it's coming from a large stone pot above a fire, which contains a bubbling brown liquid. The smoke from it invades my mouth and nostrils and makes my eyes water.

I look around the cave. On the walls hang animal parts. Some I can identify – the head of a mountain wolf, the skin of an adder, the beak of a vulture – but others I can't; they look more like something left over from a caveman's feast.

Then I see Krike. He's asleep, holding onto a drink bladder. His beard is encrusted with brown flakes, which are the same colour as whatever is bubbling away in the stone pot.

I walk over to him. ‘Krike. Krike! Wake up!'

‘What? Who? I didn't do it! The tablets are wrong! It was my brother – it was Spike, not me!' He thrashes his arms around as if he's falling through the air, then his eyes snap open and he stands up. He's a wide man, as well as very short. It's possible he was squished by a falling boulder at some point.

The first sound Krike makes once he's stood up comes from his mouth.
Buuuurp
. It is so powerful that his bearded lips wobble furiously. Next comes another
sound. It's similar to the first, but this one doesn't come from his mouth. He shifts his weight to one side and lets out an explosion of wind – so much wind that the back of his loincloth moves as if a strong gust of breeze has just swept through the cave.

I immediately put my forearm across my nose in an act of self-preservation. The smell is too much.

‘It's Helix of Rockfall. You need to come with me. One of the men in Rockfall has been seriously wounded by a sabre-tooth.'

Krike reaches for his drink bladder and takes a gulp of the brown liquid.

‘A sabre-tooth you say? And he's still alive?'

‘Yes, he's still alive. But only just.'

‘Won't be long, then. Sabre-tooth fangs contain poison.'

‘He's a strong man,' I say. ‘If anyone can survive, he can. Come on. You have to come with me to Rockfall.'

‘Rockfall? At this time of night? You must be joking! I'll come in the morning,' he says. ‘After breakfast.'

‘In the morning after breakfast! You'll be too late.'

‘Listen … whoever-you-said-your-name-was. I don't do cave calls after dark. Never have; never will.'

‘But Korg told me to get you –'

‘Korg? Korg the Magnificent asked you to fetch me?'

‘Yes,' I say.

‘Well, why didn't you say so … What did you say your name was?'

‘Helix.'

‘Helix … Never heard of you … I'll just fetch a few things.' He bends down and lifts up the corner of a skin rug, revealing a small pit dug into the floor of the cave. It's full of curious objects, some that once belonged to animals – paws, ears, furs and tails – as well as a collection of sacred rocks of different colours and sizes. He sees me looking at his stash and blocks my view with his body.

‘Take this,' he says, tossing his drink bladder at me while letting out another pop of loincloth wind. ‘Fill it for me.'

‘What with?' I say.

‘Suup,' he says, pointing to the stone pot. ‘I need my suup to keep me strong.'

I move towards the stone pot and take in its steam. The suup smells a lot like the gas explosions that are coming out of Krike.

After Krike collects what he needs and places it all in a skin sack attached to his belt, we begin our walk through the night. Krike is slow and wants to rest much too often. By the time we reach Rockfall, it's so late in the night that there's no sign of anyone – folk have returned to their caves and are fast asleep.

I take Krike to Ugthorn's cave, hoping it's not too late. When we arrive, the Uglets are asleep in the corner. Ug, Edla, Korg and Speel are sitting around Ugthorn, who still has his eyes closed and is taking short sharp breaths.

‘Are we too late?' I say, almost dragging Krike through the entrance.

‘Sh,' Speel says to me. ‘Ugthorn is weak and needs rest.'

‘Your Magnificence,' says Krike to Korg, bowing before him. ‘I came as fast as I could.'

‘As fast as you could?' I think. ‘A mountain sloth could have made it in half the time.'

‘Do what you can to help this man,' says Korg. ‘He is one of our finest hunters. He is in your hands now.'

‘I will do my best, Your Magnificence.'

Everyone makes room for Krike to get close to Ugthorn. He kneels beside him and raises his hands, palms facing downwards, above Ugthorn's chest.

‘His energy is weak,' Krike says. ‘The poison is in his blood. It may be too late.'

‘Please,' says Edla. ‘Please help him.'

Ug still looks like he's in shock. I don't blame him. Ugthorn's skin looks pale and each breath he takes seems harder than the last. It's as if the life is draining out of him.

Krike reaches into the sack of objects that he brought from his secret cave pit. He takes out two smooth, round sacred rocks. They are oval-shaped and the size of mountain hen eggs. One is green, the other purple. He carefully places the purple rock beside Ugthorn's left ear and the green one beside his right.

‘What will that do?' asks Edla.

‘The purple rock is a life giver – it takes energy from the heavens and feeds it into your husband. The green rock is an extractor – it will remove the poison from his veins. Do not touch these rocks. They should remain in place for three nights.'

Ug is looking more alert now. ‘Can you do something for the wound?' he says. ‘It still bleeds.'

‘The wound itself does not need treating,' says Krike. ‘The sacred rocks are what is required.'

Ugthorn's side has been padded with a skin that is now soaked with blood. Even I know that this isn't a good sign.

‘There must be something you can do for the bleeding,' I say.

Speel swivels around and gives me a piercing look with his one eye. ‘Do not question the knowledge of Krike, the medicine man.'

To show his thanks for Speel's support, Krike lets out another loud burp. Patting his lips, he says, ‘As I was saying, sacred rocks are the first treatment with a wound of this nature. In the morning, when the rocks have had their chance to work, I will make a sacred medicine for him.'

‘Very good,' says Korg, nodding, but I don't sense much hope in his voice.

‘If the boy could show me to the guest cave, I would be most grateful,' says Krike. ‘I am weary from my long and rapid journey and need all my energies to summon a cure from the heavens tomorrow.'

A cure from the heavens? Is he serious?

I stand up and lead Krike away. I show him to the guest cave and make sure he is comfortable. He opens his drink bladder and takes a swig of his suup. Then, looking like he's about to sit, he lets out a goodnight
raaaaaarp
from the back of his loincloth. It sounds, I imagine, similar to the sound of a hill toad being slowly squashed.

We both look at each other. It's an uncomfortable stare for me, though Krike seems perfectly at ease.

‘Is there anything else you need?' I say, holding my breath while talking (which is really difficult).

‘I suppose this will have to do,' he says, still unhappy at being dragged away from his cave so late at night.

I leave him to his own company, wondering what qualified him to become a medicine man and hoping that I never fall gravely ill in Rockfall.