Histories of the Void Garden, Book 1: Pyre of Dreams (22 page)

“The sticks
West!” Stanwick reminded him.

“Oh yes, sorry.
The other thing I discovered at Stracklin’s base camp, was also
directly related to the information I’d been skimming. Two sticks,
both fairly bland to look at, but each of their own distinct shape.
I’d seen illustrations of them, read references to them, and
anecdotal accounts of their existence, and here they were. Two
sticks, both of them inscribed with our runes for ice, fire and
wind. Weapons.”

“It didn’t take long
to figure the sticks out. Depending on how they were held, one of
the sticks would emit a fine focused spray of fire, wind, or ice
cold wind, and the other would send out a much broader wave. I
honestly don’t think I could have survived in the wilds without
them, and at the time I wasn’t sure whether or not Pretchis had
known that I’d find them, or if he was banking on me dying.”

David drummed
his fingers on the arm of the couch. He would be the first to admit
that he was no scientist, but he was certain that these ‘sticks’
were beyond the realms of physics, “I’m sorry but what powered
these weapons?”

West leaned
over the arm of his seat and poured himself another drink, “David,
the sticks were almost completely smooth, and there was no obvious
way to open them up. I wasn’t about to try to dismantle them.”

“Oh … Okay.”
David responded dubiously.

“However, like
I said, I’d read about them extensively. For one thing, when it
came to harnessing solar power, the scientists of Allim had made
significantly greater advances in efficiency and storage. The
weapons benefited from a similar coating to the one used in the
manufacture of glardium, and that substance was sufficiently energy
efficient to power Allim. If you look at solar cells today, you’ll
find that they are pretty pathetic. The glardium rills combined
elements of photosynthesis and macro kinesis. The sticks couldn’t
sustain a constant stream for more than a few seconds at a time,
but for most things you encounter in the wild, let’s be clear, a
few seconds of fire is sufficient to make light work of them.”

David flushed a
little, folding his hands together in his lap, he offered an
apology, but West cut him off, “David, really, you need to stop
apologizing. We were advanced. We were sufficiently advanced that
some of what we achieved would look like magic to you. There was no
magic. Science was our God, our jailer, and our prison. Science
peered into the minds of the citizens, and discovered our darkest
secrets. Science powered the zenith pyres that engulfed the bodies
of the penitents.”

“You know, I
saw just last week, there was a show talking about something that
looked a lot like those sticks,” Charlene offered, “Was it on the
History Chanel, or Discovery? I can’t rightly remember, but there
was some famous professor talking about how the Egyptians used
something like that to move the stones to build the pyramids. He
was talking about how they were helped by aliens, which I’ll be
honest, I thought was a touch far-fetched …" she trailed off,
hoping that someone else might have caught the show she was talking
about.

Stanwick
responded with apparently genuine concern, “Charlene, the Egyptians
were incredible engineers. The methods used to build the pyramids
are well established. Aliens didn’t assist the Egyptians, and
neither did they assist the people of Allim.”

Charlene
laughed, “I’m not simple child, that’s not what I was
suggesting.”

“Oh, you mean
…” Stanwick looked at West, then her gaze returned to Charlene,
“Us? You’re asking if the Leechborn intervened in human history?”
She didn’t wait for Charlene’s answer, “Not in Egypt, no. Hell, we
intervened, certainly, but you’ll understand in due course why such
intervention was necessary.”

West held up
the bottle of Drambuie, “Would anyone like a top up?” he looked at
Stephanie who was still sat on the floor near his feet, “Can I get
you a drink? Some food?”

Stephanie
nodded, “Hot dogs, pizza, squid, spaghetti, burgers, steak.” She
checked off on her hand, glaring at her dad lest he attempt to rain
on her parade.

West laughed,
“Stephanie, you are truly a girl after my own heart.” He glanced
around the room, “Can we put this on hold for five minutes? There’s
a guy not half a block from here, does the best all beef hot
dogs.”

Stanwick pushed
herself up off the floor, “I can make a run, there’s no need for
you to stop everything.”

West shrugged,
“Sure, just make sure you get like 10 with sauerkraut and 10 with
everything.” Stanwick licked her lips and closed her eyes “Mmm,
sounds good West, but what will everyone else eat?”

West leaned
forward, checking out David’s appearance, and noting that he looked
slightly emaciated, “David, not even joking here, how many do you
think you could put away?”

David hadn’t
thought any more about food since the meat and cheese, but now that
the question had been tabled for debate, he became aware that he
was actually ravenously hungry again, “I mean, I’m sure I could eat
five, but that would be gluttonous.”

West shook his
head, “There is a risk of glutting the leeches, but you are nowhere
near that territory.” He pulled a roll of cash from his pocket and
tossed it to Stanwick, “Just surprise us.”

Stephanie paced
herself, taking her time to savor her hot dog, enjoying the nuanced
mix of flavors. Every bite was a challenge, but she did her best to
unhinge her jaw, hoping to get a perfect blend of hot dog, bun,
chili, cheese, sauerkraut, jalapeno and onion in each mouthful. She
had spilled a little, but when she looked at the adults, she felt
proud that she had made less of a mess than any of them. If she
thought about it too much, it was a touch disturbing watching the
adults eating. Her dad was possibly the worst, trying his darnedest
to fit an entire half pound hot dog into his mouth in one go. She
had wretched a couple of times, forcing her eyes down to her lap so
that she didn’t have to witness the full spectacle, but even the
sounds they were making bothered her. Quarter of the way through,
she started to hum, closing her eyes, rocking backwards and
forwards, unsure if any of the adults were aware of how hideously
they were behaving. She had grabbed a can of diet soda from the
refrigerator, and she fumbled about in the air in front of her,
hoping to find the can, too grossed out to look up. When a dollop
of chili dropped on her wrist, she didn’t bother to check where it
had come from, she simply wrapped her dog in its tinfoil, and
turned around, shuffling behind West’s couch.

Before she had
made it half way, she saw the adults making their way back and
forth to the kitchen, each of them washing their hands in the sink,
or taking drinks for themselves, and she imagined that they must be
tucking into their seconds, but Stanwick suddenly knelt in front of
her, “You can come out now Stephanie, it’s all safe.”

“The food’s all
gone?”

Stanwick
smiled, “Mostly. There’s a couple left for later, but I’m sure
they’ll get eaten.”

Stephanie
rolled her eyes in disbelief. Leaning closer, Stanwick touched
Stephanie’s brow affectionately, brushing a couple of strands of
hair out of her eyes, “Do you mind if I call you Spiff?”

Silently
chewing, Stephanie’s eyes widened, the corners of her mouth giving
into a smile. She shook her head a little stiffly, wiping sauce
from her mouth on the back of her wrist, “My aunt Han calls me
that.”

Stanwick
nodded, “I know. Thank you. It’s an honor that you’d let me share
that.”

Stephanie
wrapped her hot dog again, and shuffled onto her knees, “I wish she
was here. Aunt Hannah would be so jealous if she knew we were
eating hot dogs. They’re one of her favorites.” She watched
Stanwick’s face, and found comfort in the fact that her expression
was calm and unwavering. Stanwick told her that she’d see her aunt
soon enough, and Stephanie felt sure that she could trust her.
Rather than getting to her feet, Stephanie shoved her precious foil
cargo under her arm, and pulled herself forward on the smooth floor
with the palms of her hands, inching her way around to the front of
the couch. Stanwick followed close behind her, and sat next to her
on the floor again, resting a hand on Stephanie’s arm

Stephanie liked the
sound of West’s voice. It seemed to her exactly as it should; deep,
in a comforting way, and just gruff enough that she felt safe in
his presence. She watched his face as he spoke, completely
enthralled by the singular thought, as fantastic as it seemed, and
as impossible, that a face could exist for so long, as good as
forever, and still display such profound humanity. If it was battle
worn, it didn’t show. She couldn’t make out a single scar line, or
twisted contour suggestive of previous bone breaks. She knew about
those things, about fractures and scars, and that knowledge made
her feel somehow special. She knew about humanity too, as well as
she could. She’d read about it, and knew what it should look like,
and she thought that it was as perfectly represented in West’s face
as it could be.

She listened as
West talked about the forest, about how easily he had become lost,
and about the months it had taken him to find the river again. She
tried to forgive him for his descriptions of the animals that he
had killed, and the devastation that he wrought as he tramped
through the void garden. She loved animals, so forgiveness didn’t
come easy to her, but as she smiled at him, imagining his version
of eternity, empathizing as best as she could with his struggle,
she understood that she was in no position to judge him. She’d read
about judgment and compassion, and she was certain that although
compassion was more painful, it was also more versatile.

She could sense
the excitement building in the rhythm of West’s speech, the gentle
acceleration and florid wording. He became more grandiose, sitting
up straighter, leaning forward and punctuating his words with
emotional gestures of his arms.

“There it was,
after months of arduous and desolate exploration …”

“Silinthalis.”
Stephanie whispered the word, egging West on, and he didn’t
disappoint. He looked right into her eyes, his expression one of
wild excitement, repeating the word in a sombre whisper.

“What did you
see?”

West blinked,
remembering it clearly now, for the first time in more than a
century, “Just the river. There was nothing to see but the
river.”

Stephanie drunk
up the anticipation, her heart beating faster. Her father was a
masterful story teller, and he toyed with her in this same way,
allowing the most audacious moments of his stories plenty of room
to breathe. She sucked her bottom lip, closing her eyes, waiting
for the moment to crest.

“The book of
Antrusca tells the story of the God King Dannum. Dannum led his
tribe through many battles with the other peoples of the continent.
One day, he came with his people to gather waters from the great
river, and stepping in first to make sure the waters were safe, he
came to be overpowered by the current, and his body was swept away
before any one of his people was able to save him. For two days and
nights, the people mourned by the river banks, searching for his
body. On the third day, the people of Dannum’s tribe had completely
given up hope, when one of the elders spied upstream, a man walking
in the deeps, his arms outstretched, his body cloaked in
black.”

The pause, two,
three, Stephanie smiled to herself.

“Dannum had
returned from the clutches of death, in order that he may lead his
people triumphantly from the perils of the void garden. There I
was, not at the source of the river but rather the point of
Dannum’s true origin. I stepped into the waters, wondering what
magic I might feel, but suddenly my body was wracked with pain. It
was as if I was on fire, and the waters could do nothing to quell
the flames. I thrashed about, sinking under the current, swallowing
too much water, unable to see the surface through the black cloud
that surrounded me. My feet touched the riverbed, but I didn’t have
the strength even to push up to the surface, and eventually, when I
could hold out no more to either the instinct to breathe, or the
desperate need to escape the pain, I finally inhaled a lung full of
water.”

Stephanie sank
into her imagination, closing her throat and holding her breath.
She desperately wanted to ask him if he died. Moments like this
were made to be broken.

“You know what
I had become. Washed up on the bank of the river, I think I knew it
myself. Everything I had come to suspect about the book of
Antrusca, and its account of Dannum’s long reign suggested what I
had become. In the days that followed, I threw myself at the void,
battling the beasts with my bare hands, ravenously hungry, daring
them to challenge me. In the first week, my wildest imaginings were
confirmed. I tracked a tiger, following it cautiously, but
deliberately upwind, watching as it tasted me in the air. I could
tell that it was challenged by the fact that I was stalking so
brazenly, but eventually, curiosity won out and it turned, body
hunching low, hind quarters swaying to and fro. When it finally
pounced, I readied myself and grabbed its paws, feeling the weight
of its body crashing against me as we tumbled to the forest floor.
Claws dug against the skin of my chest, digging deep, but not quite
puncturing. The mouth opened about my throat, closing with that
thousand pounds of pressure, so I was certain that my neck would
snap. With the warm rotten breath engulfing my face, I let go of
the paws, took its mouth in my hands and fought back, prying its
teeth from my throat as it scratched at my arms and shoulders,
finally drawing blood.”

Did you die?
Did you die? The question kept coming to the tip of Stephanie’s
tongue now. She rushed to cover her mouth, knowing that she’d gone
too far, but too late, she laughed out loud nervously.