Chapter 8
Red month rolled into Orange, and the leaves on many of the trees in the Garden were turning a burnished gold colour. For the past few days—or had it been a whole week?—I’d been exploring the other side of the river with Nayn. He’d told me many stories from when he’d lived in Nalong. It had been at least three hundred years ago, as far as I could tell. He had been eating enough of the Living Fruit to stop ageing, so his mind was as bright as a child’s, and yet how could he remember so much of his life in Nalong when I struggled to remember the faces of the people I loved? When I’d asked him about it he said that the Fruit must not have needed to clean out as many of his memories as it did mine.
I could have spent much longer travelling with him, learning from him, exploring his world, but one day we’d both woken up feeling restless, and headed back to the village by unspoken agreement. A few more days had passed since then, and I still felt too uncomfortable to leave again, and yet too fidgety to stay.
An especially ripe-looking piece of Fruit dangled before my eyes, making my mouth water and my heart dance. Its skin felt so silky. Orange was supposed to be a restful variety, according to Beltana, good for tired bodies. Perhaps it would help to settle the unease that had been growing in me. If not, then at least it would stop Beltana from constantly asking me why I didn’t try it for myself. Pulling my hand away, I turned instead to pick a giant yellow flower whose fragrance was delightful—like wattle and fairy floss with a hint of cheesecake. I tried to give it to Beltana but she was giggling too hard to even notice.
You called it red month. You have names for each moon-cycle?
I hadn’t even realised I’d been signing my random thoughts. Well, the Fruit changes colour in time with each turn of the moon, I explained.
Lots of things change in time with the moon.
There’s a bee that visits a patch of bell flowers at the same time of afternoon each day, she signed. Do you call that time bee-bell?
She laughed even harder. Apparently naming the months after the Fruit colours was as ridiculous as naming the minutes of the day. She told me I was obsessed with keeping track of time. To me it felt like the opposite. The passing of time was hazy and I suddenly realised that it had been a while since Dallmin’s last death plunge, so I gave up on Beltana and went to ask my mother about him.
A while later I found her in the smaller warming shelter, weaving some blue cloth.
How did the kite flying go? I signed before hugging her. She kissed me on the cheek and then started to pack up the loom.
Oh! So much fun. We made one that looked just like an eagle, and another like a fish. A flying fish. It made everyone laugh.
Good. Does that mean he has finally lost interest in the gliders? I don’t think I could stand the sight of one of his crashes again. The people here might think it funny, but I haven’t been here long enough for that.
She shook her head. No. He still looks to fly. He has gone across the Skin of the World to find out how they build them on the other side.
It took a couple of seconds for that to sink in.
‘What?’ I shrieked, scaring a couple of rainbow skinks away.
She looked at me sideways, fingering the cloth she had woven. ‘He wanted to go,’ she defended, with a slight waver in her voice.
No. That couldn’t be right. All that stress whenever anyone came anywhere close to breaching the sanctity of the cave in Nalong and yet here she was, barely flinching at the idea of letting someone through? This couldn’t be good. I had felt no warnings that anyone was even close to the cave, let alone crossed over, but I’d been travelling on the other side of the river, so maybe I’d been too far away for my ‘intruder alert radar’ to work properly. Was Dallmin the reason that Nayn and I had felt so restless? Drawn back to the valley? A bit of a vague instinct to go on.
Or did it simply mean there was no real threat?
I rubbed my temples. ‘Come on, Annie. We need to find Nayn.’
Dragging her behind me, I practically ran to where I’d seen him last. He was lying by the river, watching some fish and scratching Bungee’s ears with his toes at the same time. Both the Sentinel and the dog looked up as we approached.
This fish is ready to die, he signed. He didn’t look sad at all, just respectful. He reached in and snatched the fish from the water. It only took a minute for it to stop trying to breathe. It had been ready. Animal deaths were not unhappy, yet they were serious, so I didn’t talk until I was sure it was dead.
Nayn, what happens if people cross from Eden back to Nalong? Humans, I mean, not us.
He stood up, revealing a chest covered in grass stains. He’d obviously been lying there for quite a while, to be certain of the fish’s intentions.
There is no right or not-right here. People can do as they wish, he told us. It is not … rotten … to follow the song in that direction.
My mother looked relieved, and a little bit smug.
But once people cross over, they learn things that it would be better not to know, he continued. With that comprehension comes a responsibility. If they choose badly, even in their thoughts, then they cannot return.
Annie’s face paled. But I want him to return. He can’t stay with the dead ones. What if he dies too?
Honestly, what had she expected? That he would wander around in town like a tourist and then just mosey on back when he got bored? Yes. That was exactly what she’d expected. She believed everything would be fine. Always. In Eden it was, but that sanguine attitude wasn’t going to cut it on the other side of the Boundary.
How long ago did he leave? I asked her.
There was no real need to mark time here, so it could be difficult to remember. She bit her lower lip, thinking. The moon was almost full again. It was cold that night and I remembered to give him some clothes. She sounded quite proud of herself.
She had a point. I’d pretty much forgotten about them too. I looked at Nayn. If we can find Dallmin quickly, will we be able to bring him back?
Nayn shrugged. It depends on what he experiences. He has no sense of right and dead. That unawareness is what makes the people here alive. As soon as he understands, he will not be able to return, even if he does nothing dead.
Blinking in confusion, it took me a moment to interpret what he meant. There was no sign for ‘wrong’ or ‘innocent’, so instead he had used ‘dead’ and ‘alive’. And what he was trying to tell me pulled me up short. I had hoped I would only have to keep Dallmin out of trouble, but what Nayn was warning me about was far more profound.
Annie tugged on my hand. ‘What if he doesn’t choose to come back?’
Groaning, I turned to her. ‘Trust me. Once he sees what’s out there, he will want back in. Unfortunately, that will be exactly the point at which he won’t be allowed.’
Annie made it all the way to the sword, Bungee trailing behind her, before panic set in. She paused, staring wide-eyed at the spinning weapon, clinging to a glittering stalactite as if she was worried about getting sucked through a portal to another world. She was clearly terrified and I didn’t blame her. The last time she’d crossed over had not been pleasant. My translucent memories included fighting, bleeding, and some sort of a rock storm. I thought it might be more than that, though. She had already lost one partner in Nalong and was apparently not prepared to face losing another. Pity she hadn’t thought of that earlier. I hugged her, and stroked her hair the way Aunt Lily used to stroke mine after I woke from bad dreams. She was trembling.
‘Don’t come. It will not be good for you. I will bring Dallmin back.’
She burst into tears. ‘But I should go. It’s my fault!’
I had never heard her speak like that before. I took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her back a couple of steps, back toward Eden. She complied. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to resist me even a little.
‘Annie? Please don’t eat the Living Fruit. We both know it will be very tempting for you again.’
She looked miserable, but nodded, hugging her elbows. ‘Lainie,’ she said, her shuffling feet betraying her indecision, ‘take care out there.’
Her words sounded like a concerned parent, even though her voice was that of a lost child. It must have been hard for her to reconcile her natural concern for me with the realisation that I was better equipped to deal with the outside world than she was.
Bungee sat down on the rippling flowstone next to her and licked his lips, his merle grey coat shimmering in the light from the sacred weapon.
‘I don’t suppose you want to come and help me round up Dallmin and bring him home?’ I asked the koolie.
He lay down, resting his jaw on Annie’s foot. Laziest, most sensible koolie on the planet. I could hardly blame him.
And so I took a really deep breath, and then plunged past the massive weapon like I was diving into icy water. As I felt the Skin of the World wrap securely around my deepest sense of integrity, I had a fleeting thought that I had no idea where Bane might be. And that was when I realised that I no longer cared that he was dead. I wanted to see him anyway.