The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (69 page)

Aquar
began
dying.
The
Elders
had
ordered
they should
be
given
less
water
to
save
what
was
left
for
the people.
Carnelian
and
Poppy
saw
one
creature
reel, stumble
and
fall,
tumbling
its
rider
into
the
dust.
The woman
rose,
wearily,
now
the
colour
of
the
ground.
They watched
her
urge
the
aquar
to
rise;
she
stroked
it,
talked to
it,
begged
and
even
struck
the
creature
in
desperate rage.
It
would
not
budge
and,
forlorn,
she
joined
the column
of
people
toiling
on
foot.

When
rain
came
it
came
unseen.
People
were
leaning forward,
straining
for
each
step,
eyes
closed,
despairing faces
hidden
in
the
coils
of
their
ubas.
The
scorching
west wind
flung
a
hail
of
sand
against
them.
It
was
a
distant flash
that
woke
eyes
all
along
the
march.
Carnelian squinted
blearily
and
saw
a
darkening
horizon.
Thunder rumbled.
Even
as
he
stopped
to
stare,
the
separation between
earth
and
sky
was
inking
black.

'A
sandstorm?'
he
gasped,
but
the
only
answer
he received
was
Poppy
grabbing
hold
of
his
hand.

'Can
you
feel
the
Father
in
the
air?'
Akaisha
shrilled.

Then
Carnelian
heard
the
rushing.
The
front
struck them
screaming,
tearing
the
uba
from
his
face.
Veils
of darkness
were
coming
at
them,
hissing.
The
sand
before him
pocked
as
if
a
thousand
tiny
feet
were
sprinting towards
them.
Then
he
smelled
the
water
and
it
was
upon them,
running
down
his
face,
drowning
the
air.

The
march
of
the
Tribe
dissolved
into
a
riot.
Carnelian danced
with
Poppy.
People
slipping
down
from
aquar were
throwing
themselves
on
each
other.
Many
ran
about shouting,
their
faces
turned
up
into
the
rain,
their
arms outstretched
seeking
to
embrace
the
Skyfather's
gift
of life.

The
sky
poured
its
water
into
the
thirsty
earth,
washing the
air
clean
of
dust.
Those
next
few
days
were
a
carnival. The
rain
raised
the
wilting
necks
of
the
aquar
and
the spirits
of
the
people.
Everyone
seemed
younger,
renewed along
with
the
world.
Laughter
was
everywhere
and singing.
When
they
camped,
children
ran
laughing,
playing
muddy
games
under
thunderous
skies.

Calm
interspersed
the
storms:
the
clouds
would
open and
allow
the
sun
in
to
dazzle
them.
Now
they
smiled
to feel
its
warmth
upon
their
faces.
Too
soon
the
clouds would
close
and
the
rain
resume
its
downpour.
So
much rain
that
the
plain
began
softening
into
a
marsh,
in
the midst
of
which
lagoons
were
spreading.
Soon
every
day had
become
a
plodding,
sodden
slog
through
sucking mud.

Carnelian
collapsed
beside
Fern.
Akaisha
had
chosen
a ginkgo
for
her
hearth
and
had
made
them
hang
blankets in
the
branches,
though
these
gave
scant
protection.
They hung
sodden,
collecting
the
rain
which
spilled
over
in rivulets,
splashing
them,
besieging
them
with
puddles. All
around
them
in
the
rumbling
gloom
the
Tribe sheltered
as
best
they
could,
but
even
the
aquar
drooped drenched.

Whin
and
Sil
had
nestled
a
fire
between
the
roots
of
the tree.
When
the
wind
gusted,
it
forced
the
smoke
towards them
in
choking,
eye-stinging
drifts.
The
lurid
flicker sporadically
lit
Osidian's
face.

'Will
this
curse
never
cease?'
he
moaned.

'It'll
not
stop
until
after
we
reach
the
Koppie,
Master,' said
Ravan.

'As
much
as
once
I
loved
the
rain,
I
loathe
it
now,' Osidian
said
in
Quya,
addressing
Carnelian
as
if
the youth
had
not
spoken.

Embarrassed
by
the
sound
of
that
tongue,
Carnelian looked
round
apologetically.

'It
makes
me
remember,'
Osidian
continued,
relentlessly,
his
hand
straying
up
to
his
neck
scar.
Fire
flashed under
the
ceiling
clouds
some
distance
away.
Carnelian waited
for
the
thunder.
It
came
rolling,
heavy,
stuttering, sonorous.

'Hark,
He
speaks,'
said
Osidian
in
an
ominous
tone and
the
rain
fell
with
increasing
ferocity.

Carnelian's
eyes
snapped
open.
A
scream.
Questions cutting
across
each
other.
He
sat
up.
The
smouldering fires
revealed
black
shapes
scudding
through
the
camp. For
a
moment
one
fire
was
blotted
out
by
a
vast
hurtling shadow
trailing
a
wild
whoop.
A
battl
e-cry
choked
to gurgling
by
an
arcing
shape.
Everywhere
mounds
of
darkness
were
rising
uttering
fearful
cries.

Someone
pushed
by
him,
crying
in
Quya,
The
Two. The
Two.'

Osidian
was
too
fast
for
Carnelian.
He
saw
with
dismay Osidian's
bright
naked
body
leaping
towards
their attackers.
He
was
too
visible.
Cursing,
Carnelian
overthrew
his
immobility,
rummaging
violentl
y
among
the pil
es
of
baggage.
When
the
haft
of
an
axe
slipped
into
his hand,
he
flung
himself
round
wielding
it,
crashing
after the
cold
flicker
of
Osidian's
body.
Kicking
his
way through
obstructions,
his
foot
caught
and
he
was
flung to
the
ground.
He
rose,
groaning.
Something
whistl
ed past
his
ear
even
as
he
was
thrust
back
into
the
mud.