Tomorrows Child (30 page)

Absentmindedly,
I flicked my hands as I did when it got out of control, but this
time, I wasn’t in the yard standing on the edge of the rainforest.
I was sitting at the kitchen table. The table cracked, splitting
from end to end. Phoenix was thrown, chair and all, against the
wall and hit with a sickening thump. All around me, plates rattled
and cups broke. When it was over, I turned to see Libby grasping
the kitchen counter. It seemed she had managed to avoid the full
force, but Tahinah unfortunately, stumbled and sat on the floor
beside another chair that didn’t survive.

I rushed to
Phoenix, afraid that I had hurt him badly.

“I’m sorry! Oh
God, I’m so sorry,” I stood beside Phoenix and looked to see if the
other two were okay.

Phoenix pushed
me away and stood up, “it’s okay, I’m just winded.”

“I think I’ll
have a bruised butt tomorrow,” Tahinah smiled.

“I’m fine, but
what on God’s great earth was that?” Libby said. She was about to
return to the table and leave the safety and protection of the
kitchen counter. “Do you think you’re done now? Or should we leave
you alone to finish destroying the house?”

“I said I was
sorry. I really am sorry.” There was no way I could have known this
would happen.

Libby inspected
the table, “You know this table was cut from a single stump when
the loggers had taken the tree. Finest piece of walnut I’d ever
seen.” She ran her hand over the tabletop. The table still stood,
but the crack marred the surface. One hundred years of service to
the family didn’t do as much damage as I had managed to do in one
minute.

“So tell us,
Psyche, what was that all about?” Libby had already moved beyond
the damage and turned her attention to me. Fallen chairs and broken
glass lay on the floor around us, but no one seemed to notice.

“I don’t know,
I just moved my hand, like this.”

“No!” all three
screamed in unison.

“Oh, it can’t
happen now, the energy is gone. I don’t store it for later.” But
they didn’t trust me, so I sat with my hands under my legs to
prevent any further moments of panic.

“But there is
worse news,” I paused not knowing how to continue. “I had a dream;
maybe… it was the prophecy, I don’t know. If it was, I don’t know
what it means.”

Libby turned to
Phoenix, “And…”

Phoenix
shrugged, “Maybe. I nodded off for a while, maybe for a few
minutes, but not soon enough. I saw some children and some clouds,
but nothing I could say was important.”

“I had hoped
you understood it better than me.”

“We shouldn’t
have let you sleep. It was silly to think that Phoenix could sleep
because we told him to. And you’ve already had a big day. It was
too much. This is my fault.” Libby wasn’t mad at me, she was angry
with herself.

“Thing is,
Phoenix shouldn’t have to dream with me. This is my responsibility.
I should have understood it.”

I noticed my
book on the end of the table. It still sat open near where Phoenix
had been sitting before I blew him off the chair. The book was
open!

The page was
covered in words that weren’t my own. I reached out and felt the
heat radiate from the page. The words took on a blue iridescent
glow that seemed to seep into the pores of my skin. It was like
when the energy seeped in, but this was slower and more controlled.
I pulled my hand away and watched the words return to normal.

“The words of
the prophecy… Bless the goddess, Psyche. This is her work.”

“We’re running
out of time,” I said, “l can feel it.” The dreams had been coming
with a greater sense of urgency and I awoke each morning feeling
panicked and exhausted. Each morning, new words appeared in my
book, but never a piece of carefully constructed prose or a snappy
riddle written with wisdom. The daughters before me had clear
instructions. Protect the secret, hide the book, hide yourself,
worship the goddess, travel to new lands, build the foundation,
protect the daughter and sing the songs.

Was this my
fault? I suspected the chaotic energy had something to do with it
and perhaps Libby was right. If I had learned to use the magick
when I was young, maybe I could understand everything better
today.

Phoenix
arrived, notebook in hand and a map rolled and tucked under his
arm. He was smiling. This was a change from the furrows that had
recently marred his perfect face. He was worried about me, but I
think he was also concerned that he had failed. There were rules
about interfering and he had to allow me to make the necessary
choices without his influence. To me, this was unfair, but it had
to do with free will and choices, so I stopped expecting Phoenix to
provide all the answers.

“I know where
to go,” Phoenix announced. Libby drew up a chair as Phoenix rolled
out the map. “Here,” he pointed to a thin blue line at the bottom
edge of the map.

“This is Emma
Creek. We used to go camping near there during the holidays.”

“And… why are
we going there?” I was confused.

“Your dreams
keep showing images of trees and rocks, mountains, hills and
rivers. They come in the same order every time, like photos of a
journey you have taken. Or of a journey you should take. I found
some of the images familiar and remembered the trips to Emma Creek.
I’m sure this is where you’re meant to go.” Phoenix spoke fast, a
trait he had picked up from Tahinah.

I pointed to
another dot on the map, “And this is us here?” He nodded. “Then how
do we get from here to Emma Creek?” As maps go, the dot was only
about sixty centimetres from the creek.

“I’ve asked
Lachlan if we can take the Jeep. He should be here soon. He said we
can go out and back in one day.”

“Are you sure
this is where you need to go?” Libby asked as she studied the
map.

“Ask Psyche. If
she describes the images to the others, they can confirm what I’ve
already told you.”

Navarre and
Ruben arrived within minutes of Seth and Lachlan, all eager to hear
about the dream that would take us one hundred kilometres from home
and back. In the daily routine of subsistence living, it seemed
that I was the only source of excitement.

“The first
image is pretty easy. I‘ve even seen it myself. It’s the crossroads
in town, where that man was speaking that day at the markets. I
closed my eyes to try to relay the images in sequence. “Then there
is a marker on a tree. 1974, I think it says.”

“That’s the
flood marker at Hunter’s Creek, so that’s an easy one too. You’re
heading west.” Lachlan seemed pleased that he could follow the
signs.

“In the dream,
Psyche is standing on the bank of the river and she’s wet when she
reads the sign so I think she crosses the river here, but that only
makes sense if she was walking. That would be the shortest
distance.”

The
conversation continued, with the men marking the map as I described
the signs and images.

“Well it looks
like a trip to Emma Creek is in order. How long before you can be
ready?” Libby addressed Lachlan.

Lachlan
shrugged, “How long will it take the princess to get ready?”

“I can have her
ready to leave in about fifteen minutes. There’s no time to
waste.”

After the men
left, Phoenix stared at the map. “What I don’t get is why the signs
don’t follow the road. Even in the Jeep, we can’t cross the river
at most of these places.”

“What I don’t
get is what we are going there for,” I mumbled.

“Well,
hopefully you will by the time you arrive,” Libby was optimistic
that the trip would not be a wasted journey.

We were packing
food and filling bottles of water when the sound of gunfire split
the air. Standing in the front yard were four armed men. A series
of similar sounds ricocheted through the valley.

The men’s
clothes were grubby and tattered and their long, lank hair and wiry
beards hid their faces. A man with greying hair and an even greyer
beard walked toward us and stood, his gun lowered. The others kept
their guns raised, but not pointed directly at us.

“We don’t want
no trouble, Misses.”

“Then why are
you standing here pointing those guns at us?” said Libby as Phoenix
reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Now was not the time to make
a stand or for Libby to exude authority. I knew that Libby had a
shotgun behind the front door, but thankfully, everything happened
too fast for her to grab it on her way out.

“We just want
food, bullets, if you have any, medicine too.”

“…And whatever
else we want, we plan to take,” one of the other men said. He was
wearing an old beanie pulled down to his ears.

“So you plan to
leave an old lady and a child with no food?” Libby was not taking
this without some attempt at resistance. The men said nothing.

“Go on then,
food’s inside.” Two of the men went into the house carrying
backpacks and large khaki canvas bags. We stood there, silent while
the men raided our house, listening to the sound of falling cans
and breaking glass.

“Where’s ya
stash, old woman? One of them called from the house.

“There’s no
stash, that’s it, that’s all we have.” Libby’s voice was firm, she
was not afraid of these men. I was terrified. The energy was
seeping into me from every direction, converting to chaotic energy
faster than it ever had before.

Beanie-head
marched from the house and grabbed me by the shoulder, dragging me
in front of the man with the grey beard. “She’s lyin’,” he said as
he pushed me to the ground. He turned the gun and held the barrel a
few centimetres from my face. “Don’t plan on killin’ today, but the
pretty one here won’t be so pretty when I’m done with her.”

“I told you,
there is no more food. It’s been months now and that’s all we have
left. So please leave the girl alone.”

Three things
happened at once. A gunshot echoed through the valley, which caught
everyone by surprise. This also bought the gun barrel down on my
face; the cold steel making contact with bare skin. The shock of
the cold metal on my warm skin and the sound of gunfire was enough
to cause a spontaneous release of chaotic energy and Beanie-head
flew into the air and landed on his butt.

“Leave the
girl!” snapped Greybeard as another gunshot echoed through the
valley. The men looked at each other, this wasn’t good.

“Go! Get out of
here! See what’s going on over there!” Beanie-head didn’t move,
still in shock. Greybeard shoved him with his boot as he turned to
leave.

“Hey! Max
Vega!” Libby yelled, “You tell your ma I said hi! Raised ya real
good, she did.” I thought that would be it for Libby.

Beanie-head
turned, raised his gun and said, “You tell her yourself! You’ll be
seein’ her before I do.”

Libby didn’t
normally speak with an inflection. She’d been born in Australia in
a time when proper English was expected, but she clipped her words
and matched Beanie-head’s lazy slang. Phoenix helped me up as the
men disappeared through the forest toward the gunshot.

“I’ve got to
go…”

“You’ll do no
such thing, Phoenix Riley.” Libby never spoke anyone’s full name.
That she did so today, meant the situation was serious. “We will
wait.”

Libby marched
into the house and took the gun from behind the door, and only then
did we realise that the pantry was bare. Smashed jars of preserved
fruit lay on the floor and rice was scattered like a carpet of
maggots. Gone were all the tins of food, salt, sugar, honey and
spices. The bread Libby had baked only this morning was also gone,
but the rice, salt, sugar and spices were devastating losses,
irreplaceable supplies.

“Incredible,”
Libby stood at the door to the pantry, shaking her head.

“It could have
been much worse. You took a risk by lying to them. How could you
put Psyche at risk like that?” said Phoenix.

“If necessary,
I would have told them the truth, but we are all at risk if they
know we have hidden storage. If one family has a secret room, then
they would suspect we all have one.” Libby was right; saving my
life was not reason enough to risk everyone’s life.

“He didn’t
threaten to kill her anyway,” Libby said. She was the calm in the
storm, but Phoenix was furious. I was annoyed that just moments
before they arrived, I had discharged the pent-up energy. I
probably couldn’t have changed the outcome, but I would have
blasted that smart ass Beanie-head much further across the
yard.

Navarre
arrived. “They’ve gone. Are you all right? Lachlan’s been shot.
Raven is gone and Seth is missing.”

We ran after
Navarre as he yelled about what happened all the way, but the words
were lost to the wind. Libby carried her gun, not that it was any
use now, but it still seemed like the thing to do.

Lachlan was
perched on a chair on the veranda of his house. Emily was trying to
stop the flow of blood that gushed from his leg. Lachlan was
smiling through the pain, but his face was pale, “Just a flesh
wound, guys… This is way too much attention for a couple of drops
of blood.”

The truth was
far more dramatic - there was blood everywhere. Emily held a towel
over the wound and around his leg, but the blood seeped through and
now oozed between her fingers and dripped onto the floor, adding to
the already voluminous pool. Lilly dug through an old, metal first
aid kit in a desperate search for some magick potion to stop her
husband bleeding to death.

Libby whispered
instructions to Navarre, who promptly ran in the direction of the
old shed. He returned a few minutes later with wads of spider silk.
Libby handed the gun to Ruben and pulled at the sticky web until it
looked like a piece of gauze and bound it to his leg.

The bullet had
ripped through the side of Lachlan’s leg, creating a single, fleshy
wound. There were no entry or exit wounds and thankfully, no bullet
lodged inside. The bleeding didn’t stop immediately, but within
about five minutes, it slowed enough to replace the blood soaked
towel with a fresh wad of spider web gauze. The blood clotted then
and finally stopped.