The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (35 page)

'What's
the
matter
with
you?'
Fern
asked.

Carnelian
did
not
know
what
to
say.
He
could
hear
the women
on
the
other
side
of
the
tree
returning
to
work
and used
it
as
an
excuse
to
rise.

'We'd
better
get
on
with
it,'
he
said
and,
without
even glancing
at
Fern,
he
strode
off
to
the
drag-cradles
with their
heaped,
rotting
entrails;
their
clouds
of
flies.

The
Skyfather
be
praised,'
Fern
sighed,
as
Ginkga announced
an
end
to
the
day's
work.

With
a
grunt,
Carnelian
dislodged
a
quivering
mass
of membranes
from
his
shoulder.
They
tumbled
with
a
wet thud
onto
a
drag-cradle,
splashing
him
with
mucus.
He was
past
caring.
Lifting
his
gaze
to
the
west,
he
saw
the sun
was
drowning
in
its
own
blood.
At
least
the
air
had cooled.

'You
worked
well
enough,'
said
a
woman's
voice. Turning,
Carnelian
saw
it
was
Ginkga.
He
could
see how
hard
it
had
been
for
the
woman
to
make
that admission.

Thank
you,
my
mother,'
he
said
in
Ochre,
and
Fern echoed
him.

The
Elder
came
close.
'You
may
have
bewitched Akaisha
but
don't
imagine
the
rest
of
us
will
leave
this
as it
is.'

Carnelian
withered.
Her
eyes
lingered
on
him
a
while longer
before
she
went
off
to
join
the
other
women
washing themselves
beyond
the
margin
of
blood-stained
earth.

Fern's
eyes
shone
bright
in
his
filthy
face.
'My
mother will
protect
you.'

'You're
a
mess,'
Carnelian
said,
trying
to
make
light
of it
all.

Fern
grinned
at
him.

Carnelian
suddenly
itched
everywhere.
'I'm
desperate to
get
clean.'

'We'll
have
to
wait
our
turn,'
Fern
said,
indicating
the women
with
his
chin.

'I
suppose
it's
forbidden
for
us
to
go
up
there,'
he
said, looking
with
longing
at
the
cedars
on
the
hill.

Fern
gave
him
a
heavy
nod.
The
mother
trees
may
only drink
their
daughters'
blood.'

They
waited,
tormented
by
itching,
until
they
saw
the women
plodding
back
towards
the
Grove.
He
and
Fern ran
to
take
their
place.
His
friend
indicated
a
patch
of
dry, clean
earth
on
which
he
wanted
Carnelian
to
stand,
then he
rushed
to
fetch
water
and
pluck
some
leaves
from
the Bloodwood
Tree.

When
Fern
returned,
Carnelian
scrunched
the
leaves
into a
ball
as
he
saw
his
friend
do,
dipped
them
in
the
bucket
and then
used
them
to
scrub
away
at
his
skin.
When
they
had
done as
much
as
they
could
unaided,
Fern
began
doing
Carnelian's back.
Carnelian
submitted
to
this
and,
when
his
friend
asked, tried
to
explain
how
the
scars
running
down
either
side
of
his spine
showed
the
blood-taints
of
his
father
and
mother.

When
Fern
was
finished
he
gave
Carnelian
the
leaf-ball.
Fern
took
Carnelian's
hesitation
for
pride.
Unwilling to
explain
his
feelings,
Carnelian
turned
Fern
and
began rubbing
at
his
back.
The
only
other
man
he
had
ever
done this
for
was
Osidian.

They
said
nothing
to
each
other
as
they
made
the
weary climb
up
through
the
Grove.
Carnelian's
heart
warmed
as his
eyes
fell
on
the
spreading
beauty
of
what
he
allowed himself,
for
the
first
time,
to
consider
his
mother
tree. When
they
reached
the
edge
of
her
earth,
they
removed their
shoes
which
they
had
done
their
best
to
clean.
Both groaned
with
pleasure
as
they
sank
their
feet
into
the fragrant
carpet
of
needles.
Side
by
side
they
headed
for the
hearth,
where
they
could
see
people
already
gathering for
the
evening
meal.

When
Carnelian
came
to
a
halt,
Fern
stopped
too. 'What's
the
matter?'

'Osidian,'
Carnelian
said
bleak
with
the
realization
that he
had
almost
forgotten
him.
He
peered
up
towards
the sleeping
hollows.
Shapes
were
moving
there,
but
none that
could
have
been
Osidian.
He
remembered
Fern
and squeezed
his
shoulder.
'You
go
on
ahead,
I'll
join
you
as soon
as
I
can.'

Without
waiting
for
an
answer,
he
began
climbing
the slope.
His
steps
faltered
as
he
neared
their
hollow.
He recalled
the
day
spent
with
Fern,
the
intimacy
of
their washing,
and
felt
he
had
already
betrayed
Osidian.
He took
the
final
steps
and
looked
down
into
the
hollow.

Osidian
was
lying
in
it
asleep.
For
several
heartbeats, Carnelian
regarded
him,
moaning
as
his
mind
touched
on a
yearning
that
Osidian
should
not
be
there
at
all.
The sound
made
Osidian
stir.
As
he
opened
his
eyes, Carnelian
fought
the
desire
to
hide.