‘Here we go – swamp-balm seed. It’s not hard to find,’ said Eadie as she waded through the marsh with a handful of long yellow pods. The sun was rising through the mist, and there was no sign of the wild person Eadie had been the night before, just as there was no sign of the storm, except for some wreckage floating on the water – a broken ladder and some tree branches.
Eadie climbed into the boat. She opened the pods and put the seeds in her mouth.
‘I’ll fix your leg first, then we’ll get you out of those wet clothes. I haven’t got my grinding stone,’ she said, ‘so I’ll have to chew these.’
She spat the pulp into one hand, took some dried herbs from a pocket in her coat with the other, and rolled them together.
‘You’ve been asleep for a long time,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how you slept through that gale.’ She began unwinding the bindweed from my leg.
The night before seemed like a dream. It was as if the storm had blown the memory of it about in my mind, and it took me a while to put the pieces back together – the marsh aunties, the story, the Great Aunt’s green eyes full of rage, and Eadie’s wild face.
I was soaked through, and so cold that my hands and feet were numb.
‘Did I cause the storm?’ I asked.
‘It was Hazel’s storm but yes, you were the cause of it.’
‘I don’t know if I want to go with you, Eadie.’
‘Suit yourself.’ She shrugged. ‘We can part company as soon as we reach the river, if you like.’
‘What river?’
‘There are many ways into the marshes but few ways out. Either we go towards the Far Reaches and risk the Churn, or we find the river. The river goes to Hub.’
Eadie put the bindweed aside and looked at my leg. There was a mud pack underneath and it was hard as rock.
‘I wish I had my stone. I need something to knock it open with.’
She took up the paddle and tapped along the length of the mud casing until it cracked, then she gave it a sharp knock and it fell apart in two pieces. She removed some white crumbling paste from my leg and replaced it with the newly chewed pulp.
‘It’s healing well. You’ll be walking in no time.’
She leaned over the side and scooped up a big lump of mud, which she slapped down in the bottom of the boat. Then she wiped her hands on her coat.
‘Where is the Holdfast?’ she asked herself. ‘That’s right, heart pocket.’ She plunged her hand into a deep pocket over her chest and pulled out what she needed.
‘Without this, the clay could take days to set.’ She packed the fresh mud around my leg and sprinkled it with Holdfast, then she secured it with the bindweed. ‘Ah, here comes the sun. That will help. Give me your dress.’
I didn’t want to take off my clothes, but before I knew it, Eadie had me out of my vest and was slipping my dress over my head.
‘Use that until yours dries.’ She nodded towards the bottom of the boat. The dress Olive had given me was there, and so was Nettie’s fish. Eadie must have thrown them in when we left the floating island.
I put the new dress on, wondering how it hadn’t got drenched in all the rain. It was dry and warm.
‘I don’t know how she does it,’ Eadie said. ‘All her fabrics are like that. The clothes she makes always fit perfectly, too, and they never wear out.’
She threaded her paddle through the arms of my dress and my vest, then she reached over the side of the boat and picked up a long pole that was floating past.
‘I’ll hang your clothes up to dry,’ she said, tying the paddle to the pole with bindweed so it formed a crosspiece. She then set the pole upright like a mast and my clothes were high in the air, hanging like an empty version of myself – a Peat scarecrow. But if it was a scarecrow it didn’t work, because the shag landed on top and gave a honking cry. Eadie glanced up.
‘How did it end then?’ she muttered. ‘Everyone get home all right?’
The bird looked into her eyes without blinking.
‘Well, it’s only what she deserved, the old cow.’ Eadie spat over the side.
I wondered what had happened.
‘Marsh auntie business,’ she said. ‘Hazel got blasted by her own storm, and it caused a power shift. They’re bringing forward the Eclipse. Keep still while I go and get you some breakfast.’
She stepped out of the boat and waded through the water, the shadow of her coat moving in front of her like a strange rippling creature. When she disappeared into some rushes, I began thinking about the story she had told the night before – the boy, the dog and the bargain with the Siltman. Somehow, I felt it was connected to me . . . but surely that was a foolish idea. How could I have anything to do with those fighting men and the stone fort on top of the cliff? I went through the story in my mind, and I was halfway through telling it to myself when Eadie returned.
‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘You’ll be ready to perform it by the time we reach Hub.’
Her arms were full of small round fruit. She handed them to me and threw one up to the shag, then she got into the boat and began paddling. When the boat caught a current, she set down the paddle and put her hands behind her head.
‘Ah, this reminds me of the old travelling life,’ she said. ‘Before I came to the marshes.’
The shag spread his wings but stayed put, crouching above us as the boat skimmed over the water. Now and then we swerved to avoid some floating pieces of walkway. We passed the roof of a hut, then the current took us up a channel that wound through a thick field of reeds.
‘How do you know this is the right current?’ I asked.
‘The water level has risen with the rain. All channels lead to the river. That’s the beauty of a storm like that – it lets the marsh leak out into the world.’
I wondered where Eadie had lived before she came to the marshes. The Badlands?
She smiled to herself. ‘It’s so long ago I can hardly remember it. A lifetime ago. Many lifetimes, actually.’
I looked into her face and wished I could read her thoughts the way she could read mine. She could be telling me anything and I wouldn’t know whether it was true or not.
She gave me an easy smile, but the fierce look I had seen on her face in the lightning flash was still vivid in my mind.
‘You worry too much, Peat,’ she said. ‘Chew on these.’
She handed me some freshly picked green leaves. She must have gathered them when she got the fruit.
‘Worrywort,’ she said. ‘Also good for flavouring soups and stews.’
I chewed the leaves slowly and a crisp, peppery flavour filled my mouth.
The warmth of the sun and the gentle rocking of the boat made me think of the river I had dreamed about at Amos Last’s house. I hoped that was the river we were heading for.
After some time the channel widened and the reed field was replaced with low scrub. The sun was warm and Eadie’s coat steamed, giving off a pungent smell. The shag settled his wings.
‘His feathers are dry now, and your clothes should be, too,’ Eadie said. She lowered the pole, causing the shag to screech and take flight. I put my clothes back on over the top of Olive’s dress.
When we reached the river I gasped at the expanse of it. I gazed across, but I couldn’t see the other side. The sky was wide, and the deepest blue I had ever seen, and the water was smooth as glass. The warm air was alive with insects. Very far out, a white bird glided across the surface then dived into its own reflection.
I leaned over the side of the boat and got a shock at the girl looking back at me. Her face was wide and brown, and her hair was so bright it might have been alight. Something disturbed the water and flames wavered around her head.
‘Enough looking,’ Eadie said. ‘This is where the work begins.’
She threw me the paddle. ‘We can’t expect to find a current that will take us upstream, although we might get some backflow if we stick near the shore.’
We began paddling steadily, Eadie in front and me behind, trying to keep in time with her strokes.
‘Your friend’s back,’ she remarked.
I looked behind us and saw a nose poking out of the water.
‘Sleek!’
I knew the sleek had caused me a lot of trouble but I was so pleased to see him that I laughed aloud.
The sleek ignored me. He swam alongside the boat with his eyes fixed straight ahead. It was as if we were fellow travellers who happened to be going in the same direction and nothing more.