Walking Mountain Page 8

  ‘Hmm?’ Rose was gazing at the trees.

  ‘Eh?’ Pema was gawping at the rhinophant.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Singay with a sigh.

  In the days it took to travel down this stretch of the River, there were only a few real conversations in which everybody who took part was actually paying attention. The dark, slightly cooler night times seemed to encourage them.

  ‘How much money do we have left?’ Pema asked Singay one evening as they leaned together against the railing.

  Singay pulled their money sack out of her pocket and handed it to him.

  Pema looked serious when he felt how light it was, and even more so when he had counted it all out. ‘I think we’re going to have to stop soon and earn some money.’

  ‘Stop and work?’ Singay turned to him indignantly. ‘That was my entire dowry – how can it not be enough?’

  ‘I don’t know how – it just isn’t,’ Pema snapped. Then he made a face. ‘Sorry. But it may be a long way to the Sea, and we have to eat and pay for fares and places to sleep. So we need to think about work. What skills do we have?’

  Singay bit her lip and scowled. Do I have any skills? She knew a bit about housekeeping and needlework from her mother, and a bit about first aid from Sister Menpa, and a very little bit about falconry from Sister Hodges. But what good is any of that?

  ‘Is something wrong?’ asked Rose, coming up beside them.

  Pema looked at Singay and raised an eyebrow. Best not to worry him. She gave a slight nod of agreement.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Pema. ‘Except that it’s too hot.’

  ‘We were wondering, though,’ added Singay. ‘What’s it like, the Sea?’

  As she’d hoped, Rose was distracted. He made a sound that in a breathing man would have been a great sigh of longing.

  ‘The Sea is as beautiful a thing as the heart can imagine,’ he said, closing his silvery eyes as if to see better the image in his head. ‘It’s . . .’

  He opened his eyes and spread his hands in a gesture of apology.

  ‘It’s difficult to describe. I used to think that nothing could be more wonderful than the sweep of galaxies, with a solar wind in your face and a herd of meteors at your side and limitless space all around – but I was wrong. When you see it, you’ll understand.’

  And then, another evening, as the Jungle darkened around them, and they were all lying on the hard deck, ready to go to sleep, there was another conversation. At the time it hadn’t seemed all that important, but Pema would remember it long afterwards.

  ‘Rose?’ Singay had said thoughtfully.

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘You know all your stuff – your books, and the blankets and the rugs, and the little metal machines? Back in your room, I mean?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Where did you get it all?’

  ‘Oh, that’s another story. I don’t think . . .’

  ‘Come on, Rose,’ said Pema. ‘We’re past secrets, aren’t we?’ In the dark, he couldn’t see the little man’s suddenly uncomfortable expression. ‘Did you make it all out of rocks somehow?’

  ‘No, no. People just . . . brought me things,’ said the Driver. ‘From time to time. Things they thought I’d like.’

  Singay sat up. ‘You said nobody knew you were there!’

  ‘Ah. Well, the people I mean weren’t your people. No, no. It was the others.’

  ‘What others?’ exclaimed Singay, but Pema suddenly thought, I know the answer to that.

  ‘The desert people,’ he murmured. ‘That’s who it was, wasn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Rose.

  ‘You’ve met the monsters? The demons in the desert?’ Singay’s voice was shrill. ‘But you said! You said everything died!’

  ‘No, no. Not everything. Only the land-life that depended on green things was destroyed. The desert people never did, of course, depend just on green things and so they survived. Underground, mostly.’

  ‘And did they call you Rose?’

  The Driver gave an embarrassed little cough. ‘Well, no. Mostly they called me God.’

  There was a long, busy silence.

  ‘Then the question is, I guess,’ said Singay, in a strangled voice, ‘why bother with us? Why the walking mountains and all the effort and all the time to make all this, when you already had them?’

  ‘But we hadn’t destroyed them!’ Rose protested. ‘What – didn’t you want us to recreate you?’ Surprise had turned to distress.

  ‘No, no, it’s not that. Of course not.’ Pema tried to soothe him. ‘We really are grateful. Aren’t we, Singay?’

  Singay lay down and turned away.

  ‘Thanks be to Mother Mountain,’ she muttered. ‘Oh yes, we’re grateful.’

  The Mountain was moving. It shuddered under her, trying to throw her off, like a gigantic beast shivering flies from its flanks. Singay moaned. Too small, she cried without a voice, I’m too small. Something rumbled in the distance, growing louder and louder. When she turned to face the noise, she saw it, racing towards her. Tall trees toppled, rocks splintered, chasms opened and the green pastures disappeared into them. She couldn’t run. She didn’t even try – nothing could outrun that. The next second the earthquake reached her, knocking her to the ground and shaking her in its teeth like a furious dugg. Someone was calling her, demanding her help, but what could she do for anyone else when she couldn’t even get to her feet?

  ‘Singay! Singay! Wake up!’

  ‘Get off! Leave me alone!’ she protested, pushing out with her hands.

  ‘No! Something’s wrong with Rose. Wake up!’

  Singay sat up abruptly. It was dawn, and the Jungle was loud with birdsong and the shrieking of unidentified animals. And there, lying far too still in the pale half-light, was Rose.

  BOOK TWO

  Look to the Sea

  Go as secretly as you can, but remember – even in starlight, you will cast a shadow.

  (Jathang saying)

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Dangerous Ground

  ‘I didn’t know what to do!’ Pema was almost sobbing. ‘I woke up and he was shuddering, like he was having a fit or something, and then he just went like that – all rigid and not moving.’

  Singay scrambled over to the little man. He looked awful. In a panic, she searched her mind for Sister Menpa’s first-aid instructions and was just about to check Rose’s airways when she remembered: He doesn’t breathe. What next? Heartbeat. Should she check that? Would she know what she was checking for? Do Drivers have hearts?

  She hesitated, afraid to do anything in case it made him worse. And then, to her enormous relief, Rose opened his eyes.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness,’ whispered Pema.

  Rose gave them a ghost of a smile but seemed unable to speak. As if with enormous effort, he pawed awkwardly at his pocket.

  ‘Is there something . . . ?’ Singay moved the little man’s hand aside and pulled out a silvery bag, tied with cord, containing something soft and light.

  ‘Is this it? Is it some sort of medicine?’

  Rose could barely nod. Singay untied the cord for him and then looked about for a cup or spoon to measure it into. But instead, Rose took the bag from her with trembling fingers and shook a tiny amount of something glittery and dust-like out onto the back of his hand. Instantly it disappeared, as if his skin had drunk it in. He repeated the process once more.

  The effect was extraordinary. As they watched, his colour changed from dead white to a healthier silver, the tension in his limbs eased and, with Pema’s help, he was able to sit up and lean against the railing of the boat.

  ‘What just happened?’ Singay’s voice was shaky. ‘Pema said you had some sort of fit.’

  A single, silver tear rolled down Rose’s face. ‘I didn’t mean you to be worried. It’s all my fault. I . . . I got it wrong.’

  ‘Got what wrong?’ said Pema.

  ‘The doses. I’ve been rationing myself, but I didn’t realise just how much ef
fect distance was going to have on my control – how much irradiant is drained just maintaining stability.’ He stroked the sack unconsciously as he spoke, cradling it on his chest as if it were something infinitely precious and fragile.

  ‘You are going to have to do better than that,’ said Singay. Now that the panic was over, she felt impatient and cross. ‘Is that the irri – irritant?’

  ‘Irradiant.’

  ‘In there?’ She pointed at the bag. ‘It’s medicine you need? That you haven’t told us about? And if you get it wrong you pass out!? Explain!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the little man said. ‘It’s difficult . . .’

  Singay crossed her arms and scowled. ‘Try.’

  Rose looked at her nervously and bobbed his head. ‘I’ll do my best. Remember I told you how Drivers came to your world? Well, it wasn’t as hard as you might think for us to adapt to living here. Right from the start we were able to access the minerals from your rocks, and although some of the flavours took a bit of getting used to, they were perfectly nutritious. But irradiant, well, that was another matter. It’s your atmosphere, you see. It excludes most of the spectrum of irradiants, which is a good thing for you, of course, since they’d be poisonous. But without their ionizing effect Drivers gradually become . . .’ He paused, gazing into their bemused faces. ‘No, no, this isn’t clear at all, is it?’

  He slapped his forehead in frustration and tried again.

  ‘You need to understand that space – up there – is awash with an invisible sort of . . . um, thing . . . that Drivers need to be healthy. We absorb it through our skin. Normally we never have to worry about getting enough of it, because it’s everywhere. The way air is everywhere here. You can’t see it, but you can’t live without it, right?’

  Pema and Singay nodded uncertainly.

  ‘Good, right, well, irradiants are for us like the air is for you. However, there’s a kind of invisible barrier around your world that stops the irradiants from getting through. They aren’t good for you, in spite of being essential for us. Of course, we knew that would be the case, and we brought special powdered supplies with us – not as nice as fresh, obviously, but it does the trick.’

  ‘All right,’ said Singay. ‘Irradiant. We don’t have it. You need it. And is it the irradiant that makes you able to drive the Mountain?’

  ‘Not exactly. The connection we have, our ability to hear stone memories or nudge the magnetic fields or make rocks do what we want them to – we can do those things because we’re Drivers. But if the level of irradiants in our bodies starts to drop below a certain level, it’s as if, for you, your air got too thin to breathe.’

  ‘Like altitude sickness?’ said Pema.

  ‘That’s right. When a human gets altitude sickness they become dizzy, am I right? And disoriented and confused. It’s hard for them to concentrate. It’s the same for me. I let my irradiant level drop too low and it gets hard for me to hold my concentration on the Mountain, keep it stable.’

  ‘I dreamt there was an earthquake,’ whispered Singay. My grandparents! My home! Are they all right? Have they been hurt? Pema didn’t dare say the words out loud.

  Rose drooped. ‘Like I told you, when I’m back with the others, the three of us will be able to ground the mountains properly, once and for all. Till then, all I can do is keep things under control, keep things steady.’ He looked weary and sad. ‘We had what seemed like a ridiculously large amount of powdered irradiant when we arrived,’ he said. ‘But we’ve stayed far longer than we’d expected and, now . . . I’m running out. It will get harder and harder for me to hold the Mountain in place.’

  ‘And when it – this stuff – what happens when it’s all gone?’

  ‘Ah. Well. Then I die.’

  ‘WHAT?!’

  They couldn’t believe their ears.

  ‘So you’re saying the Mountain wants to rip up the whole world, that there’s no way you can permanently stop it without the help of the other Drivers, you’re dying – and you weren’t going to tell us?’ shrilled Singay. Her voice set off a cacophony of Jungle birds, protesting raucously.

  ‘I didn’t want you to worry,’ muttered Rose, hanging his head.

  ‘I thought you trusted us.’

  Somehow it was even worse when she spoke quietly.

  ‘I don’t see how we can do this if we keep secrets from each other,’ said Pema.

  ‘Stop looking at me like that!’ cried Rose, scrambling to his feet. ‘What about you? What about the fact that our money – Singay’s money – is going to run out? You were keeping that a secret, weren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, all right, but that was different,’ said Pema. ‘We didn’t tell you because we were thinking about you! It wasn’t as if making you worry would make anything any better.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Rose.

  They stared at each other. They knew they were on dangerous ground. The truth was starker, more real to them, than it had ever been before.

  They had to get Rose to the Sea.

  ‘Oh, Rose,’ said Singay, and then they were both crying.

  Pema would have joined them, but he was afraid if he started he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Rose sobbed. ‘I shouldn’t have kept secrets from you. I won’t again. We’re in this together, aren’t we, and the sooner I can get to the other Drivers, the sooner we can fix the mountains in place.’

  ‘And the sooner you can get all the irradiant you need. Save the Driver, save the world.’ Singay gave a crooked grin.

  ‘Right, that’s settled, then,’ managed Pema. ‘No more—’

  A rapidly approaching yodel interrupted him. He turned around just in time to catch an ample bosom in the face.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lady Allum’s Arrival

  An extravagantly endowed lady swinging on a vine out of the Jungle, yodelling enthusiastically, had landed on Pema, who was now pinned flat on his back on the deck. He looked so stunned and so ridiculous that Singay and Rose burst into hysterical laughter.

  The lady grinned cheerfully over at them.

  ‘Nice save, lad,’ she boomed at Pema as she clambered to her feet. ‘I hope I didn’t do you a mischief there? The Borang are so much better at the whole swinging on vines thing, but then they’re a bit more sparely built.’ She straightened her hat, grabbed Pema’s unresisting arm and heaved him upright, as easily as if he were a feather’s weight. ‘Your parents aren’t going to be any too happy with me if I’ve damaged you before we’ve even been introduced!’

  ‘Nnn . . . er . . .’ gasped Pema.

  ‘We aren’t with parents,’ said Singay, wiping her eyes and trying to stop giggling. ‘I’m Singay. This is Rose. And you’ve met Pema.’

  The new arrival slapped Pema affectionately on the back, almost knocking him flat again. ‘Oh yes, indeed – we’re old friends, aren’t we! And I am Lady Allum Broomback, of the House of Effulgence. Well, to be exact, I’m a fairly distant scion of a minor branch of the House of Effulgence. On my mother’s side, you understand.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Ah?’

  Lady Allum gave a great guffaw. ‘You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? That’s what I love about being out here in the back of beyond. Nobody knows your name, so you’re free to just get on. No expectations, no restrictions. No “I can’t talk to you because my House is allied to your enemy’s House which makes you my enemy even if you’re just a second cousin twice removed and quite a nice person really.”’ Her broad, cheerful face suddenly turned solemn. ‘Though not everyone who comes out of the City is nice. I picked up some pretty disturbing gossip when I was last getting supplies in River Head – cons and crack religions and all sorts. Best not judge all books by my cover, my new young friends.’

  The City! thought Pema. ‘You’re from Elysia? That’s by the Sea, right? That’s a long way from here, isn’t it?’

  Singay gave him a warning look. In spite of Lady Allum’s fabulously funny entrance,
she was a stranger.

  ‘A long way?’ Lady Allum hooted. ‘Leagues and leagues! Isn’t it wonderful? My motto is keep your nose clean and the bleeders at arm’s length. Hello, there!’ She waved happily at the Borang and trotted over to speak with them. ‘It’s me again!’

  Rose hissed anxiously. ‘What did she mean about noses? Was she talking about the way I eat? How does she know about me? Oh, I knew it, I knew it, it’s all going to go wrong!’

  ‘Shh! Calm down!’ Singay checked over her shoulder to be sure he hadn’t been overheard. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s just an expression. Careful – she’s coming back.’

  ‘Just dropped in for a lift, you see,’ said Lady Allum as she approached them again. ‘They’re quite used to me hitching a ride to my next sector. So much quicker than hacking along on foot!’ She plopped herself down on the deck with a contented sigh, pulled out a ferocious knife and began sharpening it with a file. ‘Blunt your blade as soon as look at you, some of the stuff out there,’ she added enthusiastically, tipping a nod at the lush green sliding past them.

  ‘Get her to talk about something!’ whispered Rose. ‘Get her mind off noses.’

  He gripped Pema’s arm so tight it made him squawk. ‘YOU – excuse me, you, um, live in the Jungle?’

  ‘Lucky, eh?’ She tried her thumb against the blade and went back to filing. ‘I’m a zoo-otanist. Part botanist, part zoologist. Fertility’s my field. You would not believe the rates of growth I’ve got notes for already – not to mention diversification patterns and environmental enigmas. Stop me when I get boring – I’m a bit of an enthusiast, don’t you know. The Borang tolerate me, but there’s no reason why you should!’ Another hoot of laughter caused a flock of startled birds to fall out of the trees, screeching.

  ‘Do they – the Borang – do they talk to you?’ asked Singay, hunkering down on the deck. ‘We haven’t heard them talk at all! Tell us about them, will you? We’re all really curious!’