Nightpeople (2 page)

The shadows of late afternoon stretched long across the rocky outcrops of the valley. Already the far rim, the nightside, was in near darkness, while the dayside ridge, catching the evening rays, glowed brightly. Down by the creek, crouched between two eucalypts, Saria found the lizard.

It lay still in the lee of a cooling boulder, almost invisible in the deepening gloom. At this time of day, caught in the shadows, it was indolent and lazy, preparing to curl up in a rock hollow for the night. Saria sighed. She had been hoping to find a snake, or, even better, a warmblood, a roo or a rock-hopper. They were always more interesting, more active, but now even they were becoming rare, so the lizard would have to do.

Gently she eased to the ground, stretching to lie full length, her eyes locked always on those of the tiny reptile. The warmth of the earth, baked all day in the glare of the sun, flowed up through her thin tunic and into the bare skin of her legs and arms. The lizard stayed still and unworried and she wriggled forward slowly until she was poised just a few inches from its blunt snout.

This close she could see clearly the patterns in its scaled face, the dark, limpid pools of its eyes, the black bush ticks clinging to its neck. Saria let herself fill with earthwarmth, feeling it start to flow through her body, making her fingertips tingle and her breathing slow and deepen.

And when the energy was flowing fast and strong, Saria closed her eyes and ‘reached'.

It was hard to find. Coldbloods always were. Gently, not wanting to risk alarming the animal's primal instincts, Saria pushed her mind slowly out, probing into the consciousness of the lethargic reptile, searching out that vague, life spark deep inside. It took some time before she realised it was right there in front of her. Lizards could be like that. Once she found it, though, it was a simple matter to stretch her mind just a little further and meld it with that tiny glowing consciousness. As she did so, Saria felt her own mind slip away and the warm energy flowing through her body become strangely remote.

Total stillness, reptilian patience. Now she was one with the lizard, its senses her senses, and finally Saria could feel the world properly, the earth around them. Riding on the lizard's consciousness like this, she could ‘see' herself lying there, motionless, but her touch against the reptile's mind was so natural, so driven by earthwarmth, that her own body through the lizard's senses seemed as normal as the rocks and trees.

The creek was so close that its gentle gurgle filled her thoughts, a constant tremor through the living dust. The lizard's more sensitive nerves felt the growing shadows of twilight as physical fingers of cold creeping across the blood-warming land. Saria sighed and dropped in deeper.

Saria!

The call came through the earth, from somewhere far outside the valley. A tingling warmth shivered though her in a single instant, beckoning, summoning, pleading with her, so strong that her first impulse was to jump up immediately and follow it out of the valley, out into the unknown.

The shock made her gasp and the lizard, sensing the momentary relaxation of her grip on its mind, tried to drive her out. The tingling warmth of the call faded and Saria tried desperately to reach deeper again.

But the lizard was aware of her now, the peaceful hypnotism of the connection broken and replaced with something different, something more painful, as Saria pushed her mind down harder into the lizard's simple consciousness.

Where was it? She had to find it again!

But the call was gone. Instead something else leapt across the link between them. Somewhere far off, detected only in the deepest, most private parts of the lizard's mind, a slow, malevolent burning echoed from deep within the ground; a fear that sent waves of black energy out through the earth.

The lizard was so cold now, so tired, that she caught only the briefest tickle of the burning before she had to rise again, into the higher levels, the more local ones. As she ceased probing, the animal relaxed again and Saria allowed herself to briefly enjoy the slow lethargy of the cooling animal, feeling the gentle, peaceful creep of darkness across from the nightwards horizon, enjoying the security of knowing that tomorrow would be another day just like today, with the same dangers, the same needs, and the same pleasures.

When it came, the jolt that screamed through the lizard's senses hit with shocking force. There was something close by.

Then the startled creature whirled and was gone, slipping into the bushes that lined the creek, expending its last energy for the day in startled flight. Saria let it go.

She stood up, puzzled and slightly nauseated from contact so violently severed, brushing dust from the front of her tattered robe and looking carefully around. Only something big, powerful and dangerous could have intruded so clearly and rapidly into the lizard's awareness.

Saria knew everything there was to know about the valley, knew every boulder, every precious tree, every hidden hunting path and hollow. She knew the place like no one else, not even Ma Lee. She knew it as it was known to the animals, the rock-hoppers and lizards, the snakes and birds. Once she'd even managed to reach into one of the wild dogs that lived on the nightside ridge, but its mind was too frightening, too primal, vicious and intelligent. The dog had fought her, knowing what she was doing and resisting all the way. All she'd felt from the dog was that distant, malevolent burning. She'd never tried that again.

But the lizard today had been different. That bolt of clarity, that sickening awareness just before it ran, suggested something either very close indeed or further off and very large. Even bigger than the dogs, and very dangerous. And that call – that first, initial tremulous summoning …

It was almost dark now. She'd sunk into the lizard's mind for much longer than she'd intended and Ma Lee would be furious, but she stood quietly, listening, straining for the slightest hint of something out of place. Everything seemed normal though. The creek trickled, a couple of insects ticked across its surface, and somewhere upstream a frog murped gently in the gloom; other than that not even a breath of wind stirred the trees. Whatever had startled the lizard, Saria couldn't locate it with only her own senses.

Thinking how useless it was to be a human, Saria finally gave up and bolted for the hut.

She knew she was in trouble. It was so late that Ma would have lit the fire herself, and that would mean a whack and possibly no food. It all depended on just how grumpy the old woman was feeling. There was no point in worrying about it now.

The hut squatted in a clearing a little way from the creek, and she fled through the growing darkness, sure-footed across the rough and uneven ground, stopping in the deep shadows where she could see the hut and the small garden behind it. The flickering glow inside told her that the fire was well and truly lit. It was too quiet, though. Ma wasn't hollering for her or cursing as she would normally be by now.

Saria's nose crinkled as a smell floated through the still air. A spicy, dark, foreign smell. Meat. Roasting meat. What was Ma doing over there?

Cautious, Saria slipped back behind the tree line and skirted the clearing in shadows until she could see the front of the hut. Nothing seemed out of place; the gardening tools were propped by the door where they belonged; the dung pile crouched a little way off, its festering, sweet pong attracting insects away from the hut. All seemed normal.

Except the smell. The roasting. It drifted though the night air with a richness and promise that Saria instinctively distrusted. She closed her eyes for a moment.

There were voices; not one, but two. Not the usual mutterings of Ma Lee as she bumbled about talking to herself, but the low murmer of voices in conversation. It wasn't right. Old Dreamer Gaardi, who lived alone far up on the daywards ridge, would never come down into the valley in darkness. Saria slid onto her belly and crept across the furrows of dirt towards the hut.

The unaccustomed smell of meat toyed with her nose. The thickness of it almost made her gag, bile rising in the back of her throat, nausea sliding into her in long, heavy waves. Still, she pushed herself carefully over the warm ground, knowing that the old woman inside would be listening for the slightest sound, the merest snap of a twig to tell her that Saria was nearby.

Halfway between the tree line and the open door her foot gently scraped two red stones against each other and in seconds the flickering glow of the doorway was filled with Ma's skinny presence.

‘Saria! Where you at, girl?'

Saria froze, sinking into the dark with the stillness of a rock. She knew that the old woman hadn't spotted her, otherwise she'd have been on her immediately, dragging her into the hut. She was probably night-blind from sitting by the fire.

‘Did you hear her?'

The speaker was a man, but his voice was strong, deep, laden with the same dark heaviness as the smell of roasting meat. The timbre of it seemed to slither into the ground and Saria made herself even more still, like the lizard, in case this man was as aware of her vibrations as she was of his. Ma Lee ignored his question.

‘GIRL! Get in here.'

The old woman's shout echoed off the trees, but no sound answered her other than the stutter of the creek, until the man spoke again.

‘No matter. Come back and sit. She'll turn up soon.'

Casting a final glare into the darkness, Ma Lee retreated.

Saria breathed a quiet sigh. Whatever happened she was in trouble now. She crept forward again until she was crouching below one of the hut's narrow windows. Ma had not yet put up the shutters, so a little light escaped, throwing a long, dancing red shadow onto the ground. It cast trembling undulations of darkness off tiny ridges in the dirt. The meat smell was distracting and Saria worked to shut out the pressing queasiness it brought with it. The conversation inside carried clearly.

‘It's bad, Ma. The council is still Dreamer Wanji's but only just. There are movements afoot.'

‘But the girl isn't …'

‘Shhh. We won't speak of her yet.'

‘Have there been any more?'

‘None. Not in thirteen seasons.'

‘She is the only one, then?'

‘So it would appear.'

‘And Dreamer Wanji?'

The man sighed. ‘He grows old.'

Ma snorted. ‘He was old long ago.'

‘True, Ma. But lately there is a weariness about him I haven't seen before.'

‘I know. Dreamer Gaardi says the same thing.'

For a while neither spoke and Saria wondered if perhaps they'd fallen asleep, until the man's voice broke the silence.

‘It seems strange to be back here. After so long, nothing has changed.'

‘Things have changed, Dariand. They always do.'

‘You haven't, Ma.'

The old woman laughed a guttural chuckle that Saria rarely heard.

‘You'd be surprised. Motherhood is all about change.'

‘You will miss it?'

‘Perhaps. But I'm an old woman now.'

‘What will you do?'

‘Stay here. Wait to die. Like all of us.'

‘We're not going to die, Ma.'

‘So you tell me.'

‘The girl is proof.'

‘Dariand …' There was unusual gentleness in Ma's tone. Saria had never heard her talk this way before. ‘Don't talk to me of hope. The Darkedge is still there, it will always be there. The Nightpeople still fly and our Dreamers get older and older.'

‘But Saria …'

‘The girl is an aberration. You know that as well as I do.'

‘Dreamer Wanji says …'

‘Dreamer Wanji is an old man who was lying to himself and council when he sent her to me. He has as little hope as the rest of us.'

Again there was silence. Now when the man spoke it was more hesitant, more thoughtful.

‘There are those who believe now is the time to bargain.'

‘With the Nightpeople?'

‘Yes.'

‘It'll do no good. She's not enough.'

‘We will see.'

‘Dariand?'

‘Ma?'

‘Don't do it to her. She can live here in safety and peace. Tell them she'd gone, or you couldn't find us, or tell them – I don't know, anything.'

‘I can't, Ma. You know that. Dreamer Wanji needs her.'

‘She's still a child.'

‘She's …'

Saria sneezed. The noise exploded from her, violent, unexpected, uncontrolled. The smell of the meat had worked its way deep into her nose and head and, engrossed as she was in the conversation, the buzzing tingle had gone too long unnoticed.

In seconds Ma Lee was outside, dragging Saria to her feet.

‘Listening from the dark, were you, girl? Like a night spirit? I'll teach you to pry into business that's not your own.'

Inside, the foggy smell of the cooking was so close that Saria retched onto the dirt floor This earned her a stinging slap.

‘Now look! You couldn't do that outside? How long have you been listening out there?'