Priests of Ferris (8 page)

‘Jimmy said not to be scared of them.’

‘No man has ever made friends with a Varg,’ Yellowclaw said.

‘Don’t frighten them,’ Silverwing said. ‘The Terrible One wasn’t an ordinary man.’

Yellowclaw sighed and shook his head. He seemed to enjoy looking on the dark side. ‘It is the Prohibition,’ Silverwing whispered. ‘He is our mightiest flyer. He flies higher even than Wanderer flew, and sees the lands beyond our borders. But he can never fly there. It makes him melancholy.’

They slept, and rose, and went on their way towards the pass. The Birdfolk flew heavily through mist, with feathers damp, but in mid-morning the sky cleared, and the pass lay ahead, a V in hills where snow lay thin on the tops, like frosted glass. Across a valley clogged with bush was Mount Nicholas, a knuckle of ice, a giant fist clenched against the sky. It was squat rather than tall; and ugly, strong. It disappointed Nick at first, and then it pleased him. It was not a shape he would forget. A glacier ran from its eastern flank and curved into the bush, as sharp in its line as a scimitar.

One of the leading Birdfolk stumbled in its flight and managed to turn and glide down to the hillside above the pass. He lay spread like a fallen glider while the others tended him. The carrier Birdfolk landed.

‘We have reached the barrier,’ Yellowclaw said. ‘We can go no further.’ He looked through the V at Mount Nicholas. ‘How long must our punishment last? If I could see the land beyond, and fly south, south … ’ He gave an angry flap of his wings and turned away.

‘The Prohibition is in our minds,’ Silverwing said. ‘There is no barrier, yet we cannot fly. It is carved in stone on the wall of every Hall – “Unless ye be as Humble as the Worm …” It is our pride that locks us in our land.’

‘If I knew how then I would do it. I would be humble,’ Yellowclaw groaned.

Silverwing laughed at him. ‘You,’ she said. ‘Pride in your strength drips from your feathers. Stop complaining now. Say goodbye to these groundlings who go where we may not.’ She turned to Nick and Susan, Dawn and Limpy. ‘There is a creek in the pass. Follow it down. Soon it will meet the river where the glacier melts. We cannot see any further than that. But I think the Vargs will find you before you have travelled far.’

‘No man –’ Yellowclaw began.

‘Hush!’ She turned back to Susan. ‘Trust your friend, Jimmy Jaspers. I have heard a Woodlander’s tale that he walked with a Varg.’

‘He did,’ Dawn said. ‘We’re not afraid.’

They ate a last meal with the Birdfolk. Then Susan said to Silverwing, ‘I would like to take a feather. That way you can travel with us.’ Silverwing plucked one from her wing without a word. Yellowclaw gave Nick a feather, and other Birdfolk gave them to Dawn and Limpy. Then the four shouldered their packs and said goodbye and started down the hillside to the creek. Susan turned before she had gone far and looked at the Birdfolk. They stood without moving, tall and lonely; like Easter Island statues, she thought. And she thought how sad they were, creatures so brave and strong and beautiful, yet trapped inside a wall by ancient crimes. She raised her hand in farewell; then went over the hill and out of sight. Later she saw them far away, floating like eagles in the sky.

Dawn took the lead going down the pass. The snowgrass and thorn trees gave way to bush. As they went lower it grew with a tropical lushness and the air seemed warmer.

‘It’s like a jungle,’ Nick said, twisting through creepers and giant leaves. ‘I can’t see bears living in this.’

But the river was ice cold. They stopped on a shingle fan where the stream from the pass flowed in and looked across the braided water at the bush, grey and misty, on the other side. Mount Nicholas took up the sky. Nick found himself grinning with pleasure as he looked at it. He felt sorry for Susan. Jimmy had promised to name a waterfall after her, but it could never be as impressive as this.

‘We’ll go up the river to the glacier,’ Dawn said. She led them on the shingle bank at the side of the river. Several times they crossed creeks flowing down from the hills. Nick stopped to listen.

‘Plenty of birds. No animals,’ he said.

‘I can smell Varg,’ Dawn said. ‘They’re not far away.’ She gave a curious smile, a little nod, as though she heard something the others could not hear. A moment later she stopped and smiled again. ‘One is in the forest. He is keeping pace with us. Two are coming behind. And the fourth is on the other bank. If you look you will see him in the trees.’

They stared across the river and saw a movement in the bush; something white or blue. It vanished as they looked.

‘They will kill us,’ Limpy said.

‘Perhaps. I don’t know. I know they are hungry. Their minds are full of thoughts of meat.’ She gave a troubled smile. ‘There’s another one ahead. Something hurts her.’

‘Can you see into their minds?’ Susan said.

‘I catch their thoughts. I don’t know whether I see or hear.’

‘What do they look like?’

Dawn stopped again. ‘There,’ she said. ‘See.’

One of the Varg trailing them had come out of the bush and was ambling up the shallows, with water splashing about its legs. It stopped when it saw them and returned their look indifferently, then lowered its head and drank from the river. Sunlight sent blue ripples up its neck, along its back.

‘Huge,’ Nick whispered. It was as large as a rhinoceros, but there was no mistaking its bear shape. It seemed a forest and an ice creature both, with its sleek fur and grizzly head. ‘Will it attack?’

‘No,’ Dawn said. ‘They’re herding us.’ She pointed at the Varg across the river, standing on boulders, and the blue/white gleam of the one in the bush.

‘Where to?’

‘I think towards the leader up ahead.’

‘Jimmy said not to be scared of them,’ Susan said.

‘Jimmy’s not here,’ Nick said.

They started off again, on pebble beds, and when they rounded the next bend saw the wall of the glacier. It rose as high as a ten-storey building, with a broad melt-lake at its foot. The river escaped in channels through the valley. Along both sides trees stood in black lines.

‘There,’ Dawn said.

A Varg was outlined against the trees. Dawn led them towards the creature. It had blue unblinking eyes, and they saw a wound on its shoulder with blood leaking into the fur. Something, a force, seemed to come from the animal, buffeting them like a wind. It made them shrink and cringe and walk more slowly.

‘She is angry,’ Dawn whispered.

Susan remembered Jimmy’s letter and tried to make a picture of herself in her mind, but she found she was simply saying her name over and over. Yet the Varg swung its head, fixed her for a moment with its eyes. There was no friendliness, no interest there, she felt she was looking into empty holes, and knew that she, and all of them, were in deadly danger.

Dawn stopped. ‘Wait here. Be still. It’s me she wants to talk with.’ She approached the Varg and stood several paces off, staring in its eyes. She was no taller than one of the creature’s legs, yet watching, Susan felt she was its equal, and the Varg knew it. She struggled to see, struggled to hear, what was passing between them, and glimpsed a jumble of pictures: sea, forest, priests, dogs. The Varg turned its head at her and gave a growl. ‘Don’t, Susan,’ Dawn said. ‘You will make her angry.’ After a moment she walked to the animal’s side and looked at the wound. Blood was dribbling from it, making a track through the fur on the Varg’s leg.

Dawn turned to the others. ‘Wait here. Don’t move. I won’t be long.’ She turned and ran down the river bank, past the Varg standing there, and vanished in the trees.

‘They’ll kill us now,’ Limpy whispered.

‘I don’t think so. Not yet. I’m hungry, anyway. I’m going to eat.’ Nick opened his pack and took out the dried goat’s meat the Birdfolk had given them. He was trying to keep their courage up. ‘I wonder if she’d like some.’ He walked up to the Varg and held out meat, but the animal only growled. Then it lay down and closed its eyes.

‘It’s losing a lot of blood, I think it’s dying.’ He bent and looked at the wound, but a growl, a bark of anger, came from one of the Varg down the river.

‘Come away, Nick.’

He came back and sat with them. They ate, and drank water from the river. Shadows from the trees crept on the shingle and the face of Mount Nicholas turned pink. Nick looked at the Varg behind them. There were four, only twenty metres away, in a quarter circle, lying with their heads on their paws, like sheep dogs holding sheep. ‘You couldn’t get away from these things.’

The river was in shadow when Dawn came back. She ran over the shingle and the Varg lifted their heads. ‘Susan,’ she said, panting, ‘come and help me.’ They went to the Varg and knelt beside her. ‘She’s very sick.’ The wound was bleeding steadily.

‘What happened?’

‘She was catching salmon at the river bar. Priests of Ferris came in a boat. They’re frightened of the Varg and hunt from the sea. They shot at her with cross-bows. One of the bolts struck her in the shoulder. She swam to the forest and escaped. Another Varg tore the bolt out with its teeth. But unless we stop the bleeding she will die.’

She opened her pouch and took out some yellow fruit and a bundle of leaves.

‘I know these,’ Susan said. ‘Breeze used them for my rope burns when Odo Cling tied me up.’

‘I hope I have enough. There are not many growng this far south.’ Dawn split the fruit and laid the leaves inside. She left them for a moment, then opened them and took leaf skeletons out. ‘Give me the halves one by one.’ She squeezed juice in the wound.

The Varg opened her eyes and lifted her head. She gave a grunt of pain as Dawn smeared juice on her fingers and worked it in the cut. ‘If I go deep enough the artery will heal.’

‘Have you told her?’

‘She knows.’

The other Varg came close, herding Nick and Limpy. Dawn finished working on the wound. She went to the river and washed her hands. ‘Now,’ she said, coming back, ‘you must talk to her, Susan. They know you are human, that is all. They don’t like humans.’

Susan looked at the wounded bear. Even lying down the creature came up to her shoulder. She said, ‘I am Susan Ferris,’ but the Varg watched her with its eyes unblinking and showed no sign of understanding.

‘Speak in pictures,’ Dawn said.

‘And you’d better be quick,’ Nick said. ‘I think they’re going to eat us.’ The Varg behind him was making a low continuous hungry grumble.

Susan wondered where to start. She thought the best thing to do was show she was an enemy of the priests, so she imagined one, dressed in white, holding dogs on a leash. She meant to put herself in the picture, running away, but had no time. The wounded Varg gave a roar of anger and rose to her feet. Those behind towered on their hind legs, with claws extended and lips drawn back from their teeth. Dawn ran in front of them, holding up her arms. Susan had an impression of images flashing from the Woodlander’s mind, but the Varg towered higher. ‘I can’t stop them. Show them Jimmy Jaspers,’ Dawn cried.

Susan did not know what picture to think of. The four great beasts seemed to blot out the sky. ‘Jimmy,’ she cried; and at once a picture came – Jimmy standing by the bridge, with his axe in his hands, taunting Odo Cling, daring him to cross. And a second picture fitted in beside it: Jimmy saying goodbye, accepting the feather. ‘Keep it, Jimmy. Wear it for me.’ ‘I will. I will, Susie.’ Nick was there too, and Brand and Breeze, standing on the plateau in the midday sun. She concentrated on keeping the picture clear, then added to it. She saw the old man placing the feather carefully round his neck, and her affection for him, her grief at losing him, made tears trickle on her cheeks.

‘Susan,’ Dawn’s voice said, ‘open your eyes. You’re safe now.’

She opened them and blinked the tears away. The Varg had dropped back on all fours and were looking at her in a thoughtful way, although a rumble of uncertainty came from one. She turned to the leader and found she had sunk to the ground. Dawn slipped by and looked at the wound. It was bleeding again. She busied herself, squeezing more juice in. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘start again, Susan. Go very slowly. And be careful.’

So Susan told her story. Soon it seemed natural to speak in pictures not words. She slipped them into her mind like slides into a viewer. And slowly she told their adventures. She showed the struggle against the Halfmen – and how Jimmy Jaspers had saved them twice. She placed the Halves on the Motherstone. Otis Claw died. And she said goodbye to Jimmy. The bears ‘listened’, nodding now and then. They gave an impression of sagaciousness.

Then Susan told about her return to O. Carefully she showed priests hunting with their dogs, and though the bears rumbled they made no move. She showed their flight, and their rescue by Seeker. Then she brought them to Shady Home. She did not think the bears would understand writing, but she imagined Jimmy writing his letter while the great blue bear lay at the door. She showed the opening of the box, and herself reading, and then the journey south, the flight with the Birdfolk. The bears stirred at the image, and Dawn made pictures, showing it was true.

It was dark when they finished. Only the blunt crest of Mount Nicholas stood in the light. Susan was exhausted. She sat down in front of the wounded Varg and rested her head in her arms. Then she found an image slowly forming in her mind. It was a picture of herself and Jimmy. She wondered where it came from, she had not thought of it. They stood facing each other in a place she could not recognize. There was ice all around, shining blue. The picture grew sharper and made her head ache.

‘Answer,’ Dawn whispered.

‘What?’

‘She wants to know why you want Jimmy Jaspers.’

‘To destroy the Temple.’

‘Tell her then.’

All Susan could do was make a picture of the old man in her head. Then, with great effort, she placed herself beside him. She imagined Deven’s Leap, with a temple of white marble built on it – a temple she had never seen. Priests swarmed in it like wasps, and the High Priest sat on his throne, with painted face, with yellow eyes, and Ferris bones hanging on his chest. Jimmy raised his axe and banged on the gates, and they swung open. She walked in, Jimmy at her side, and faced the Priest. And then somehow, in a way she could not reverse, Jimmy faded, he was gone, and only she was there, standing alone, as in Soona’s dream.