Rami

Chapter 14

As I go further, the last shafts of sunlight are swallowed by musty darkness.  Gnarled, twisted trees leer down at me, covered with beards of dripping moss.  Somewhere, water is rushing over stones.  The river must be close by, but the sound is empty and distant, muffled by the strange heaviness in the air.

It grows colder.  The silence thickens.  After walking for close to an hour, I dig through my pack for a lantern.  I strike a match.  The flare spills yellow light across the path.  Teeth chattering, I light the lantern and continue on my way.

Time is impossible to track here, but I'm convinced that days pass.  I drink sparingly and share what little water I have with the baherst.  Nearly all of my food is spoilt.  The path narrows from a broad, flat space to something more like an animal track; roots often slither past my feet, curved as if they're trying to trip me.  The noise of the river fades away into silence.  I begin to worry about what will happen when my lantern oil runs out.  Maybe it was foolish of me, thinking that I could travel anywhere on my own.

I grow hungry and my mind numbs with exhaustion, but I walk on.  I'm frightened that if I sleep, I'll never be able to wake again.  There's something brooding and oppressive in the air, some malice that I can't quite name.  It frightens me.

My eyelids grow heavy.  I lower my gaze, picking my way through the maze of roots and potholes.  The path is so overgrown that for a dreadful moment, I wonder if I'm lost.  The thought chills me.  I stare around, my eyes widening, hair pricking at the back of my neck.

And there, on the path ahead, is a light.

I run towards it, my mind racing.  A dozen people sit around a campfire enclosed in an ancient circle of bricks.  The smell of cooked food drifts towards me.  The strangers are slouched, talking and laughing.  They wear black silken cloaks and veils cover their faces.

I freeze.  I remember them, or people like them.  They chased the scarred man with the mule, the day Ann and I were sent to sell old machines in Arl.  It seems like a lifetime ago. He claimed the world would end, and now I suppose he must have been telling the truth.  I wonder what happened to him.

"Hey. Child!" one of them says.

If they're ordinary humans, I could probably outrun them.  I brace myself to flee, but my stomach groans with hunger.  So I step into the circle of firelight.  Their eyes fix on me.

"Are you traveling by yourself?"

I nod. He pulls back his veil and offers a smile.

"Where are you headed?"

"Myrag." I hesitate in the shadow of a tree.

"A child like you shouldn't travel alone," a woman says, "Come. Share our fire. Have something to eat."

I sit beside the campfire, starved and anxious, suffocated by the closeness of so many strangers.  I feel like a feral creature caught in a trap, yet I'm far too tired to walk on alone.

Someone passes me a bowl of soup. I drink it slowly, savouring its warmth.

"Why are you going to Myrag?" says another woman, or perhaps the same one. I'm already struggling to remember her face.

The question sends a cold shiver of panic through me.  How should I answer?  It seems foolish to tell the truth, but I've been told so many times that I'm a terrible liar.  I feel their eyes on me.  I have to speak, or they'll be suspicious.

"I'm looking for my friend," I blurt out, then realise it's a stupid thing to say.  It'll only invite further questions.

I hug my knees and swallow down the last of my soup.  There's a moment's silence.  An idea comes to me.