Chapter 1
Two long forelimbs wobbled like giant knobbly spider’s legs, giving less than satisfactory stability. A long pause helped to establish some sort of a connection with tangled back legs, but they were still stuck on the ground. Unsteady confusion warred with impatience to move.
I laughed as the newborn zebra foal heaved herself up and staggered once again to all four feet. She looked so unsure of herself, leaning on the tree, her dark coat still damp and crimped. The tired mare stood by, head down and sweat still dripping from her flanks, so I scratched behind her ear and soothed her with my humming. Giving birth looked exhausting, and animals couldn’t even use the juice of the Living Fruit to ease the pain, poor things. I would rub her coat with a hay wisp once she’d rested, she would like that. The newborn filly looked at me with large dark eyes. She was going to be fun to play with over the next few weeks.
Flopping myself down on the grass, I stretched my legs out in front of me to enjoy watching the foal discover the world. She discovered her mother’s milk first.
‘Welcome to Eden, little Hollie,’ I said in a soft voice, as she twisted her neck up to nuzzle her mother’s teat. ‘I’m Lainie, and I will be your host for this introduction to life on planet Earth. Please avail yourself of the refreshments you see before you, and don’t hesitate to ask any questions.’ Hollie ignored me, which I didn’t mind.
The Garden was becoming cooler at night again as autumn came closer, but late foaling wasn’t a problem in Eden. There was always plenty of food, and even winter here wasn’t particularly cold, unless you went up into the mountains. I’d explored the mountains a few weeks ago now—or was it longer?
Glancing up toward the majestic peaks, I tried to pinpoint how much time had passed since I’d made the trek. There had been much more snow, so at least as far back as early spring. I remembered wishing for my snow gear, which was unusual. I rarely thought about things I used to own anymore. They were from another life, and the details were hazy. Chocolate I remembered, and Vegemite crumpets. Even though there were even better tastes to be experienced here, I still missed those. I remembered people, too. It made me sad. They were all dead now, except for one.
Hurried footsteps disturbed the quiet sound of suckling as someone pushed through a thick stand of feather-hedge on the hill behind me. Beltana was laughing, pelting down the slope carrying a large purple fruit in each hand. Two? Why two? She piqued my interest, so I got up and bounced after her, and it only took a few minutes to find what she was planning to use the fruit for. Not far from the base of the cliff, I could see a crumpled heap of sticks and large fronds. Dallmin. Again. Sure enough, tangled in the pile was a sanguine mess of torn flesh, bent limbs and lifeless staring eyes. I shuddered. Even after all this time, my initial reaction was still one of horror. A vague memory of another blood-soaked scene flashed through my mind, but like other nightmares I suppressed it quickly.
Beltana ripped away the skin of the purple Living Fruit with her teeth and tilted Dallmin’s head back. His neck was broken so his head flopped too far, his pale tongue protruding from his dislocated jaw. She opened his mouth and squeezed some juice into it and within moments his neck jerked straight and I noticed his feet twitching. She arranged his limbs so he looked more comfortable and soon I could see his chest rise as he took a gurgling breath. Beltana laughed and poked in a stub of sharp bone that had broken through the skin on his wrist. She was getting covered in blood, but didn’t seem to care. She squeezed a bit more juice into his mouth then began to rub some of the fruit peel over his wounds. Skin meshed and I could see bruises flower and then fade almost as quickly. Dallmin opened his eyes and sneezed out a spray of blood, which popped his jaw back into place, so then Beltana held the fruit to his lips for him to take a bite. Limbs twitched as his broken bones knitted back together. His hip gave an audible snap as it relocated. Yawning, he sat up, wiped the bloodied dark hair out of his face and reached for the Fruit. She handed him the other one. He bit into it, grinning at us, with bright purple juice running down his chin.
Why had I ever taught him that word? A soft growl rumbled under my breath.
‘Dallmin,’ I muttered disapprovingly. I don’t know why I bothered; he had no concept of disapproval, but it made me feel better.
He gestured to the top of the cliff and I nodded.
Longer this time, still not enough.
The wings you had were not strong enough. Why do you keep trying?
It was the second time that month he had plummeted over a hundred feet to the ground. Surely he could remember enough pain for it not to seem fun anymore. Stunts like those were usually the domain of the very young. I had been told that the novelty wore off by the time people reached a couple of hundred years old or so. Dallmin was apparently older than that, so why was he so obsessed with flying? It was my fault. Mine and Noah’s. Maybe if we had packed up the hang glider faster, he might not have seen it. My shoulders slumped. It wouldn’t have helped. He’d undoubtedly seen us in the air, which had made him come to investigate when he saw us land. It wasn’t like we’d had any other options. Still, no real harm done. He was having fun.