The Unmaking (The Last Days of Tian Di, #2)(69)

“I dinnay know,” said Eliza. “I like some birds.”

“How can you do anything if you don’t know?” demanded the little boy crossly.

“I dinnay understand you,” said Eliza. “I dinnay know where I am.”

This seemed to send the little boy into a rage.

“Pay attention!” he shouted at her. “Why don’t you pay attention? You are very stupid, and quite ugly and you don’t pay attention!”

“You said you liked me, lah,” said Eliza, almost tempted to laugh at this sudden tantrum.

“I don’t like you at all,” he returned snootily. “You’re a stupid girl and I’m bored of talking to you. This is the edge of things and you’ve got to go back. Are you going to take something with you or not?”

“Yes,” she said. She looked at the brilliant sky. Innumerable black dots swam before her eyes before becoming ravens. She looked up at the tree and it was full of ravens too, perched silent on every branch.

“They shouldn’t be up here,” the boy shouted down at her. “I don’t want them up here.”

Birds began to burst out of the sand like black plants suddenly sprouting all over the dunes. They walked towards her, leaving streams of little bird tracks behind them. She leaned against the tree with her legs splayed out and birds sat on her legs and on her shoulders and her head. She was dizzy with thirst. The ravens made odd rattling sounds in the backs of their throats. There were so many of them that it was quite deafening. She covered her ears and looked around at them. They regarded her most intelligently, filling the sphere of sand and sky. In the rattling, a sort of conversation emerged among them.

Power flows, of course it does. How did she carry it? Next to her heart. The centre is the strongest. We are all made of Flow. How will you bear it? Little girls grow up, there is nothing unusual in it. You cannot protect them, you cannot protect yourself. What will you call it? There is power in the names of things. Who can you trust? The worlds will have their way, in the end, in the end. You don’t understand, you can’t see the whole picture. So many secrets, kept for so long. She loves you, you know. She is in your heart. Of course she is. Of course.

Eliza was terribly thirsty now. She touched the sand but it was too dry, she could not drink it. She touched the sky but it gave her nothing. And so she told the ravens, I’m thirsty, I think I might die of it, and they became a black river that flowed into her mouth, quenching her thirst at last. The little boy in the tree scowled down at her. “Now go back,” he said, and she did so.





Chapter


17

Dusk fell as they flew across the Sea of Tian Xia. For a while, Nell could see all the islands sprinkled around the coast like little jewels and it reminded her of home. But there were fewer islands as they flew on and the sky darkened until she could see nothing but the brilliant Hanging Gardens of the Sparkling Deluder far to the south. She dozed on the dragon’s back, coming to every few minutes with a start. Suppose she fell off? How long was the fall to the sea below? The steady schoom, schoom, schoom of the dragon’s wings lulled her out of consciousness. The odd thought crossed her mind that it would take them years to reach the Realm of the Faeries and she would return home an old woman. No, that was ridiculous. She laughed, and the sound of it was strange in the empty night sky. She had no sense of how many hours had passed when the moon suddenly illuminated an inhospitable looking land far below, lava fields crumbling to the very shore and red volcanoes flaming brightly. Rivers of fire flowed between black craggy cliffs and quenched themselves in the sea. They flew into this hell and as they did, Jalo began to sing.

The song caught them each like a hook to the heart, even Swarn. It seemed to contain all the joy and all the sorrow and all the beauty of the worlds, giving voice to everything they had no words for. Their vision blurred with tears and they forgot or did not care that they were aloft in a fiery, dangerous land. Nell felt herself soaring on the music alone; it bore her up and filled her, made her complete in a way she had never known and yet, at the same time, undid her entirely, pulled her apart. She knew she could not bear for it to end, would never survive the loss of this song, yet she also longed for it to end, to release her, let her be. And now the song was calling to them, Come, come, come, and they did, how could they not? Follow, follow, follow, what else could they do, what would be left of them without this music? It carried them gently, effortlessly, and laid them down, murmuring, Sleep, sleep, sleep, and it was with gratitude that they succumbed. Oblivion swept over them.

~~~

Nell woke to voices, her heart still aching with the music she had heard. She opened her eyes and blinked, confused. Trees heavy with emerald green moss surrounded her. The moss hung in elegant fringes from the branches and encased the trees entirely. Through the branches twined over her head, she saw a pale sky. She sat up and petals spilled off her. She had been lying in a bower of moss and flowers. She rose and followed the voices she had heard. She found her friends in a clearing among the trees. Ander and Charlie were sprawled on elegant divans arranged around a low table laden with bowls of fruit and cakes, eating with deep concentration. Swarn sat cross-legged on the ground, back straight, and did not touch the food. There was no sign of Jalo, but another Faery in a brightly feathered cloak was leaning against one of the trees and watching them with his arms folded, an amused expression on his face.