Nightpeople (26 page)

None of the council answered.

‘You listen to me. That girl's a Dreamer She's gonna reach, and she's gonna do it strong. I've never seen anyone go as far out through the Earthmother as she did. Hell, she got out past the bloody Shifting House, and who here can ever claim to have done that, eh? She's gonna reach, one way or another, and it's up to us to decide whether we want her to be in control of herself when it happens, or not. That's what we're decidin' here. We send her over to Olympic, and we might as well just dress her up as Baanti, ‘cause that's what she's gonna become. You mark my words.'

A heavy silence fell over the assembled group. The men who'd earlier nodded their way through Slander's argument now sat still. None made eye contact with any of the others. All stared either down at the dirt floor of the cavern or into the flickering light of the fire-pit. And Dreamer Wanji let them sit like that for what seemed an age, considering the full implications of his words, before finally standing and walking in a slow circle around the fire-pit.

‘You let that girl follow this “call” of hers and she'll reach. She'll have to. But she'll be reaching for something she wants, so it'll sit good with her. It might open her mind up to the possibility that all Teaching's not a bad thing. It'll make a Dreamer of her, and a damn powerful one. Trust me on that. But if we send her over to Olympic and let Slander and that mob of no-goods try and bend her to their will, all we'll end up with is another Dreamer Baanti. Or worse.'

Saria almost rushed over and hugged the old man. He'd convinced them. Most of the council now looked doubtful. Only a couple still shook their heads. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried not to let herself get too excited.

‘You're not giving us much of a choice here, Dreamer Wanji,' Dreamer Kenjii finally announced, his voice almost accusing.

‘That's ‘cause there isn't one. At least, not so far as I can see.'

‘So we let her go off with Dariand, then. And that's it?'

‘Not straightaway. I'll keep tryin' with her a bit longer, first.'

‘And if she still refuses to reach for you?'

Dreamer Wanji shrugged.

‘Then we let her go. I don't know what this “call” is that she talks about, but it's mighty powerful, that's for sure. I reckon it'll draw her into the Earthmother better than anything I can do.'

There was one last long pause.

‘Anyone still want to vote on this?'

Nobody answered, and finally Dreamer Wanji allowed himself to smile. Seeing that, Saria felt the tension that had gripped her stomach begin to finally unclench.

‘Good. Dreamer Gaardi, you wanna go up and get Dariand and Slander?'

‘No need.' Slander's voice, low and malicious, floated from the shadows on the other side of the chamber from Saria. ‘I didn't go all that far.'

The old men in the centre twisted around on their seats, trying to get a bearing on where Slander had hidden himself, but most were fire-blind in the darkness, and the strange acoustics of the vast underground cavern made the Olympic headman's voice echo and refract off the angled walls. ‘I had a feelin' that you'd try and pull something like this, Wanji. You've always been a bit predictable that way.'

‘You got no business being down here while the council is meeting, Slander.' Wanji's voice was little more than a hiss.

Slander laughed.

‘Hah! I got as much right to be here as any of you, ‘specially now that this council's taken to ignoring law and to makin' up its own rules.'

‘If you've been listening, then you know the reasons for our decision.'

‘Enough talk!' Slander snapped. ‘Now, you lot have got one chance here. I imagine that by now my lads up top will have dealt with Dariand and the other troublemakers in this crappy little town, so when you get back up top – if you get back up top – you're gonna find things a bit different in the plains.' Saria's skin prickled cold at the threat in his voice. ‘I'm givin' you all one chance, right now, to make a decision – the right decision this time – on the matter of the girl. You wanna have any chance of seeing daylight again, all you gotta do is vote as the law says you should.'

‘You're a fool, Slander.'

‘And you're a weak old man who's pissing himself in the dark!' Slander retorted. ‘Now, who's for letting the girl go wandering off into the plains with Dariand, eh? Come on! Now's your chance. You wanna support this old madman? This is it.'

For a moment everything froze. Dreamer Wanji stayed standing and nobody else moved. Around the council circle, old men sat, a couple looking angry but most with their eyes downcast. Then, very slowly, Dreamer Gaardi climbed to his feet.

‘I vote with Dreamer Wanji.' He spoke softly, but the words rang off the stone walls.

‘That's one.' The malice in Slander's voice was giving way to a kind of delighted amusement. ‘Any more?'

Nobody else moved.

‘Looks like that's it, then.'

‘That's not how this council makes decisions,' Dreamer Wanji growled.

‘It is now.'

From the darkness came a soft ‘swishing' noise, followed by a sharp ‘snap' and Dreamer Wanji's head whipped backwards, blood gouting from his temple. The old man stayed upright a moment longer, swaying slightly, and then his old body folded in on itself, as though melting into the floor of the cavern.

Saria jammed a knuckle into her mouth and bit down on it hard to keep herself from screaming. The rest of the Dreamers were on their feet in a rush.

‘SIT DOWN!' roared Slander from the darkness, and the old men's shouts died. Only Dreamer Gaardi knelt beside Dreamer Wanji. Saria, who'd half stood, intending to rush to the old man's side, forced herselfback to the floor, choking back tears.

Keep
calm!
she thought.
Stay quiet!
Dreamer Wanji was beyond help and there was no sense giving herself away until she knew what she was getting into. Slowly, agonisingly, she pushed her concern and grief for the old man down again, making herself breathe long, silent, deep lungfuls of the dusty cave air.

Over beside the fire, Slander had finally stepped into the light. A long leather sling dangled nonchalantly from his hand. He walked confidently into the middle of the circle, the flickering glow illuminating a cold, dark smile on his face.

‘Don't think I'm down here alone, either, you lot. I get trouble from any of you, and …' He left the rest of the threat unvoiced and instead turned his attention to Dreamer Gaardi, who was trying to roll Dreamer Wanji onto his back.

‘You feel like changing your vote now, Dreamer Gaardi? You got this one opportunity. Or would you rather end up like your mate here?' He nudged Dreamer Wanji's prone form with his toe.

For a long time Dreamer Gaardi stared up into Slander's eyes, meeting the larger man's stare evenly. Slander let the leather slingshot swing gently from his fingers. Then finally Dreamer Gaardi climbed back to his feet.

‘You do what you want, Slander.' He spat the words as he turned and took a couple of steps back towards his stone. ‘You'll get no argument from me.'

‘Didn't think I would.' Slander's grin increased and he half-turned away from the old Dreamer, but Dreamer Gaardi hadn't finished speaking.

‘You've made a big mistake, though.'

‘Have I?'

Now the beginnings of a smile crept to the corners of Dreamer Gaardi's mouth.

‘You just killed the only man in this room who knows where that girl is. So you better hope your boys up there haven't been too rough on Dariand, ‘cause otherwise you just landed yourself in a whole pile of problems.'

Even though her anger, Saria was pleased to see how quickly the smile faded from Slander's face.

‘Crap! Arnu, get back up top and find out what's goin' on with Dariand. No, get him brought down here. Now!'

From the main entry came the clicking tap of firestones, then a torch flickered into life.

‘Hurry up!' Slander yelled at the man.

Arnu vanished up the entrance passageway, his torch throwing a curved beam of light ahead of him.

Saria!

Even through the cold dead floor of the cave, the call reached into her Nightwards. That was where she had to go.

Now that Dreamer Wanji was dead, and probably Dariand too, it was all she had left.

Follow it.

SARIA!

The surge left an echo in her mind, an imprint which lingered long after the initial pulse of it had died away.

Nightwards.

Slowly, silently, barely breathing and never taking her eyes off Slander, Saria crept backwards through the dark towards the fissure.

The whispering of the breathing tunnel washed over her. Saria stared up into it, fighting her fear back down to the same place as her despair. There was no other way.

Ahead of her, the narrow confines of the tunnel yawned off into inky nothing. If she turned her head just slightly, she could still look up the other passage to where the last dull light from the fire in the sleeping chamber still spilled out, trickling down the stone floor towards her like a cascade of water. There was nothing like that up the breathing tunnel.

She had no other option, though. There'd be no way of getting past Slander in the main cavern, and who knew how many men he still had hidden in the darkness there.

And even if she did, she'd still have to find her way back up to the entrance tunnel, alone and in the dark, then somehow get out of Woormra.

No. The breathing tunnel was her only chance. At least the moving air meant that somewhere up there it reached the surface. All she had to do was follow it to that place and then she'd be safe.

Or at least, free.

Taking a final glimpse at the reassuring warmth of the firelight up the passage, Saria took a deep breath and stepped forward into the tight darkness of the left-hand passage.

As before, she trailed her hand along the rough wall as she moved forwards and upwards, drawing what little comfort she could from the trembling pulse of earthwarmth there. Before long, she reached the point where the roof angled sharply downwards and she had to duck her head, fall to her knees, and crawl forward. In just moments she'd reached the place where she'd stopped on her previous expedition, the point where Dariand had been blocked.

Like last time, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more just ahead, that she could fit through if she wanted too. Closing her eyes, she stretched her arms out and explored the passageway as best she could, then, scrabbling her legs behind her to find a couple of toeholds, she gently eased herself forward below the hanging roof. The stone above pressed tighly into the small of her back, pushing her down against the floor, but then abruptly the passage widened out again.

Blindly, Saria reached around, groping through the darkness. She was in a chamber about half the size of the one she'd slept in. The roof hung low, and when she tried to stand she was rewarded with a sharp blow which made bright flashes burst behind her eyes.

On hands and knees, she explored the small space, eyes straining. There were two openings. The first, larger one opened up at floor level, disappearing behind a boulder. She was about to crawl into it when she discovered the second.

It led upwards from her left, even narrower than the one through which she had just come. The faint whistle of air through it made her decision for her, and after a moment's hesitation she unslung her water-skin, which had almost snagged on the way through that first tight opening, shoved it ahead of her, then wriggled behind it.

She had to lie flat with her chin tucked into her chest. If the tunnel became any narrower she'd be stuck. Still, she pushed the water-skin carefully, not wanting to risk catching and tearing it on a sharp rock, and followed it up.

The tunnel went on and on, always upwards, and several times Saria paused for a rest, her breathing heavy. During her third break she realised something was different: the feeling of the rock itself. The further she climbed away from the cold walls of the council chamber and its Skypeople tunnels, the more easily the earthwarmth pulsed through the ground. Any contact with the stone, even as it scraped and gouged at her, brought with it a tiny thrill of contact, a sense of energy coursing around her body.

Working in pitch blackness, she wriggled up the tiny fissure by touch alone. The only sensation that held off panic was the constant, cool flow of air onto her face. Other than that, she felt like some kind of snake or lizard, sliding blind through the belly of the Earthmother.

Without warning the stone pressed in again, wedging her in place. She tried to slide backwards but it was futile. Angled ridges dug hard into her flesh and held her secure, the same way that the barbed ends of Gan's spear had stopped fish from wriggling off and escaping.

Saria let her body go limp. Her cheek fell against the hard floor and a warm trickle of blood worked down the side of her leg. She instinctively tried to reach back and brush at the source of the blood, but couldn't twist far enough

The darkness was suffocating. Choking, gasping, with the sound of her own tight breathing bouncing back to her from every surface, Saria forced herself back towards calmness, until eventually her breathing settled into a regular rhythm.

She might even have slept for a while, but then she was awake and the rock wasn't hard any more, but soft and warm. Suddenly the ground wasn't pinning her but was cradling, holding her. Earthwarmth surged through her and the stone was pliable. She reached forward and pulled and the ground seemed to slip aside and let her through, to close behind her and push, and she slid forwards easily out of the grip of the tunnel, into the free coolness of another chamber. A large one.

‘Hello?' Her voice trembled. Something about this chamber gave it a different quality. It was strangely reassuring.

‘Hey!' It didn't sound like the council chamber, where the hard, faceted walls would refract and echo. Here, her voice was absorbed by the size of the space. And the air was still. For the first time since slipping into the breathing tunnel, Saria couldn't feel air moving against her cheeks. She was in a cavern large enough to take away the breeze.

After a couple of hesitant steps out into the space she stopped. From the darkness came another sound, a new one, almost a whisper and a long way ahead: the faint clamour of trickling water.

It was easier to crawl, she quickly discovered. On hands and knees the sensation that she might suddenly lose her balance and topple into the dark abated, and slowly she inched across the stone floor, her eyes shut tight, concentrating on that distant splash, her fingers tracing tiny hollows in the stone.

She thought about all the people she had been with these last few weeks. Faces and voices swam into her vision: Ma Lee stroking her hair, Dariand hauling her onto his shoulder for that dash across Silver Lake, Gan and her camels and her dead child, the hollow eyes of Dreamer Baanti and the living ones of Darri.

The sound of the bubbling trickle grew louder until the noise began to chime softly off the walls and roof, and her probing fingers began to detect tiny pools of moisture on the floor.

She rolled onto her back, staring up. The darkness didn't seem quite as thick, not as complete. With a start, she sat upright.

There was light. Just the faintest glimmer across the high stone roof, but enough to throw a dull silver sheen, which after so long in complete darkness almost burned her eyes. It took a few moments to focus, but it quickly became clear that the light was coming from somewhere ahead, from the same direction as the trickling water. Spurred on, Saria stood and began walking carefully.

She found her way blocked by an enormous pile of rocks and rubble which towered over her She traced back and forth along the length of the blockage, and established that it extended for the entire width of the cavern. A huge section of the roof must have fallen, effectively transforming what had once been a single huge cavern into two smaller ones, in the process shutting out most of the light. At the moment, she was on the wrong side of that rock wall.

Seeing no alternative, Saria found a handhold and began to climb.

The barrier was steep and little more than loose scree which crumbled beneath her grasp and slipped from under her feet. If she fell, not only would she hurt herself but there was a good chance sections of the wall would come down on top of her. Climbing slowly, testing each handhold and foothold, Saria picked her way towards the distant, shimmering ceiling.

At the top of the rock-fall there was only a narrow gap between it and the roof of the cavern. Light seeped through like a silver thread against the darkness. The sound of the water was much louder, and cool, moist air blew through the slit. Saria began to carefully pull some smaller rocks out of the opening, widening it so she'd be able to slip through into the light and, hopefully, to the surface.

It took a long time. The blockage proved wide, and at the top of the pile, without the constant press of tonnes of rocks, the scree was so loosely packed that often as she removed one rock four or five others would tumble into its place. She persisted, and as the light was beginning to fade she pushed the last small boulder out of the way. It tumbled into the illuminated cavern and landed with a splash.

At last the space was big enough for Saria to crawl through. She wriggled forward and looked down into a cavern smaller than the previous one. The vaulted roof was festooned with long fingers of white stone which hung towards the floor far below. The space was almost completely round, and the rock-fall she had tunnelled through fell away into a lake of dark water which filled almost the entire bottom of the chamber. Only a narrow shelf of rock ran around the edge, hugging the walls in a full circle.

The light lanced down in a tight beam from a hole in the roof on the far side of the lake. It looked almost solid, a dazzling, bright spike casting a small, shimmering circle on the water and throwing dancing reflections high onto the stone walls. Saria almost cried with frustration. The hole in the roof was too far up. There'd be no way she could reach it, no escape there.

Climbing down in the light was much easier than going up in the dark. Saria knelt by the lake and sluiced handfuls of water over her face and through her hair. The water was icy, but it was good to wash the sweat and dust from her skin. Then slowly she made her way around the dry shelf of rock towards the beam of light.

The lake was fed by a small stream that ran down the same wall she had tunnelled through. When the roof had fallen, it must have brought an underground stream with it, which over the years had been slowly filling the cavern. It was impossible to tell how deep the water in the lake might be; the light bounced off the surface like a mirror, and the water could have been a shallow puddle no deeper than her ankles, or a bottomless pit.

She wanted to stand in the light, to look up and see the dayvault, even distantly. To do that, though, she would have to wade into that black, fathomless water Making her way slowly around the perimeter, she stopped where the light beam was closest.

The water was so still it appeared solid. Saria removed her shoes and hesitantly lowered one foot into the dark surface.

The cold wrapped itself around her ankle, gripping it with icy fingers, and she had to stop herself from snatching it out again. But there was slippery rock beneath her toes and gingerly she lowered her other foot.

For a long time she stood, watching the circular ripples she'd created slide across the surface until they bounced off the far side. Then she slid one foot forwards, using her toes to explore the floor of the lake. She had visions of stepping off a concealed cliff, of the bottom dropping away and her plunging deep into that icy darkness. She focused on the light and inched her way towards it, going deeper and deeper

By the time she had covered only half the distance, the water was well over her thighs, thoroughly soaking her robe.

The lake seemed to level out at waist-deep. She waded out until she stood at the edge of the circle of light and, shivering, reached out a hand, allowing the light to play over it. Her skin seemed to glow in the beam and she flexed her fingers, bathing them in the slightly warm luminosity.

Looking up, she could see the hole in the ceiling. Far above was a narrow, circular tunnel, which started at the roof of the cavern and ran straight up towards the surface. Beyond it, the dayvault was a tiny circle of deepening blue. So close, but at the same time so distant. It might have been another world for all the chance she had of getting to it.

Her robe billowed around her, floating. Tears filled her eyes and she lifted her hand to wipe them away … then suddenly froze.

Voices. Saria thought at first that she must be dreaming again, but men's voices floated into the cavern, disembodied. It took a moment for her to realise they weren't in her imagination.

She peered up again. The brightness of the tiny hole hurt her eyes and she had to squint against it, holding up one hand to shield some of the glare. There were shapes up there, people leaning over the edge.

Then something came swinging into the shaft towards her. A tin bucket, tied securely to a long, knotted rope, and her heart leapt in sudden understanding.

Her first instinct was to shout out, to yell for help.

But
where would that get
(me) she thought.
Back to the surface, hut into the waiting hands of Slander's men. Back to Olympic.

So she didn't yell. The bucket swung down and plonked into the lake beside her, sinking into the surface and beginning to fill. Saria watched, remembering the heavy boulders that anchored the rope at the top, boulders that would easily support her weight, if only there was some way to keep the rope down here. She toyed with the idea of grabbing the rope and holding on, but even if she managed to anchor it for a while, she knew they'd simply put more people onto it until she was either hoisted up or lost her grip.