Prince of the Wind Page 12

  We grinned round at each other. But then Gen spoke up, a peculiar wobble in her voice. ‘I don’t know … I don’t like this river, Richard. We know Kenta made the crossing safely in the boat; I think we should wait till the tide comes up again and do it her way. I keep remembering last time at the ford, those spiders … the River Ravven’s evil, even here, close to the sea.’

  Rich rolled his eyes impatiently. ‘Oh, twaddle! I say we’ve really struck it lucky. If crossing in the boat was easy, walking across is going to be a doddle. What d’you think, Kenta? You’re the expert!’

  Kenta gave Gen’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘I know how you feel, Gen,’ she said apologetically, ‘but the river truly is different down here. Look at it: it’s almost disappeared, and what’s left is slow and shallow and safe.’

  ‘Yeah — they’re just trickles, and most of them look narrow enough to hop over!’ agreed Jamie. ‘How about we all go down and have a look, Gen? We’ll check out the boat, and make sure there isn’t any sign of … anything … in the water.’

  Less than half an hour later we were standing in a semi-circle round the boat, surveying it gloomily. From a distance it had looked a bit weatherworn, but seaworthy enough. Now we could see that the caulking that had once sealed its joints had shrunk and fallen away in places, leaving cracks that would let water through in moments. If that wasn’t bad enough, one splintery-looking oar lay half-buried in the sand close by, and there was no sign of the other.

  ‘Well,’ said Rich with satisfaction, ‘so much for your boat, Kenta.’ He flopped down on the sand and pulled one boot off, wrinkling his nose and grinning up at us. ‘Don’t know about you guys, but I wouldn’t say no to a paddle — these feet sure could do with a wash!’

  With a sigh of relief I sank down under the shade of a cluster of strange-looking plants. They had thick succulent stems, topped with stiff circular leaves the size of elephants’ ears. At high tide I guessed they’d float on the surface like water lilies, but now they reared up from the dry riverbank like huge umbrellas. Away on the other side of the estuary I could see more of them, far-off clusters of polka dots on the gently sloping shore.

  I tugged my boots off and peeled off my socks, stuffing them into my backpack. Glancing up, I saw that Jamie had padded down to the water in his bare feet, and was turning to call back to us. ‘It’s clear as anything and real shallow, Gen — I can see right to the bottom. There’s nothing to worry about!’

  I stood, hefted my pack, and walked over to join him. He was right: the dark, oily-looking water that had made the river seem so menacing at the ford was crystal-clear and sparkling. The close-packed sand, fine as powder, felt cool and soothing under the aching soles of my feet. Tentatively, I dipped one toe into the water: it was cold as ice, like liquid glass.

  ‘Ten minutes tops, I reckon,’ said Rich heartily. ‘Like I said: a piece of cake.’

  As he said the words, a sudden, sickening qualm of foreboding swept through me: a feeling like vertigo, as if I were teetering on a cliff-edge about to plummet into darkness.

  ‘Wait a sec, Rich.’ He turned back, frowning. The others had already started picking their way across the sand.

  I hesitated. The lurch of dread was fading to a niggling unease. Had I imagined it? ‘Guys — wait up a moment!’ They stopped obediently, exchanging puzzled glances. I raised my hand to my forehead to block the dazzle and gazed slowly round me, turning full circle. Out over the estuary, where rivulets of water caught the sun between smooth dun-coloured sandbanks. Back to the bank, scuff-marks showing where we’d sat to take our shoes off, the flat umbrella-plants motionless in the still air. Out towards the sea, a distant bar of brightness beyond the vast emptiness of sand, the murmur of waves almost too faint to hear.

  That was it. The tide. Richard had been right: here at the river mouth the ground was almost completely flat. The tide that had run out so swiftly would come back in like an express train; once it turned, the sea would flood the estuary in minutes.

  And we had no way of knowing when that would be.

  But like Rich had said, ten minutes tops and we’d be safely over. And even if the tide did catch us, the worst that would happen was we’d have an unscheduled swim. The longer I dithered … With a last quick check in the direction of the distant sea, I followed the others out onto the sand.

  Close to the bank, the surface of the riverbed was firm and almost dry. Here and there, shallow pools of water were completely surrounded by sand, stranded by the falling tide. But it wasn’t long before I came to the first of the long strands of water that had found softer sand, carving their way through to the sea. Ahead of me, Rich had already splashed his way across, turning to grin and give thumbs-up to Jamie and the girls. I waded across after him, enjoying the crisp feel of the cold water on my sweaty feet.

  As we neared the centre of the riverbed the runnels of water became wider and deeper. Though my breeches were rolled up to my knees, the bunched cloth was soon soaked. I guessed it made sense that the current — what there was of it — would be stronger towards the middle; but even here, the water was nowhere near deep enough for even Gen to worry about. Still, I gave a quick glance over my shoulder to check she was OK; she was sloshing along happily with the hem of her ragged tunic bunched in one hand to keep it dry, the other splashing a sparkling spray of water at Jamie. I shook my head, grinning: so much for Gen’s evil River Ravven!

  By now we’d spread out into a relaxed straggle. Rich was up ahead, apparently trying to prove his claim about wet feet by jumping over as many of the streams as possible; I could hear him counting to himself after every clumsy leap. Over on my left was Kenta; Jamie was lagging behind, trudging round the pools of water rather than through them, picking his way cautiously through the streams. Away on his right and closest to the sea was Gen, fossicking happily along like a kid at the seaside.

  The shore was close now. I waded through the last wide rivulet, savouring the cool tickle of ripples on my skin and the suck of wet sand between my toes. I could make out lanky long-legged wading birds poking round among the grasses on the bank; above us grey gulls wheeled and called.

  Rich was right, I thought. It is a piece of cake. There was nothing to worry about.

  That was when Gen screamed.

  Absolutely anything

  It was a single wavering shriek of raw terror.

  I spun round. Gen was standing on a broad flat sandbar between two streams. She was stock-still, arms in the air as if she’d frozen in the middle of some kind of dance. Her eyes were huge and staring.

  I drew a shaky breath to call out to her — something — I didn’t know what. But before I could make a sound her whole body gave a weird, twitching spasm.

  Her feet were buried in the sand. When she moved — a convulsive side-to-side swaggering motion, hands clutching uselessly at nothing — she somehow seemed to slip. Instantly, she froze into immobility again, panting.

  ‘What the …’ Rich, behind me, amusement and a hint of worry in his voice.

  I stared, my mind refusing to take in what I was seeing. Before, her feet had been buried; now, she was almost knee-deep in sand.

  The truth smacked me in the face like an icy wave. Suddenly everything seemed to be happening in slow motion and complete silence. Jamie was running towards her. His feet kicked up a glittering spray of water with each stride, flat sheets fanning out and fraying into a million individual droplets that hung in the air for an eternity. His face was contorted, his mouth moving, no words coming out.

  Rich’s harsh shout snapped me back into real time. ‘Jamie — stay away from there! Gen — don’t struggle. Just … just keep still …’

  Rich was beside me now, but I couldn’t force my legs to move … couldn’t wrench my eyes away from Gen. Her face was unrecognisable; she wasn’t the Gen I knew. She was trapped in her fear like an animal, her eyes staring sightlessly out of her white face, fixed on something none of us could see. She gave a tiny whimper, like a puppy … then
another desperate struggling lurch that buried her thigh-deep.

  At last, I started to run.

  Jamie was in the water in front of her now, holding out his hands … but it was too far, way too far to reach. He was mumbling something, over and over again. Gen reached out her arms to him, fingers straining. The space between them yawned like an abyss.

  Then she spoke: two words, whispered on the faintest breath. ‘Help me …’

  Without hesitation Jamie stumbled forward. One step … two … three … Their hands clasped. Jamie heaved like someone in a tug-of-war. For a long moment Gen seemed to stretch as the grip of the quicksand loosened. Then Jamie’s feet shuffled in a staggering quick-step as he struggled for footing in the quaking sand … and his face melted into terror as the solid sand gave way to a sucking nothingness.

  He threw himself backwards. At first I thought it was a frantic effort to escape the grip of the sand, but then I saw he’d pulled Gen with him. She was lying half on top of him, clutching onto him with the desperate strength of panic.

  ‘Gen — crawl — pull yourself up on me …’ Jamie gasped. ‘Do it!’ Gen’s hands clawed at him; eyes wild with terror, she grabbed at his jerkin, dragging herself out of the mire and up onto his body.

  ‘Spread out your arms, Jamie!’ I heard myself shouting. ‘Spread your legs, if you can — it’ll stop you sinking …’ … as fast. Rich and I were close now, sludgy slime between our toes … close enough to see how deep Gen’s extra weight had already pushed Jamie into the sand.

  Sobbing and gasping, Gen crawled up Jamie’s chest till she was level with his face. His head was half-buried, but he gave her a tiny smile of encouragement that almost broke my heart. ‘Go on, Gen,’ he whispered. ‘You’re almost there. I’ll get out easy once you’re safe.’

  I threw down my cloak and flung myself onto it, feeling the ground shift and quiver beneath me. ‘Rich — my ankles! Gen — grab my hands! Quick!’

  With a whimper, Gen crept forward onto the sand. For a second I thought she’d made it — but I couldn’t reach her. I wriggled forward like a snake, Rich’s hands like steel bands on my ankles; felt the ground give under the fabric of the cloak … then Gen’s fingers were gripping mine tight enough to crush them. ‘Rich — now!’ For a second I felt like my arms were being wrenched out of the sockets; then, with a slither and a sob, Gen was beside me on dry sand.

  ‘Kenta —’ But Kenta didn’t need telling. She was there already, her dry cloak at the ready, enclosing Gen in her arms.

  Panting, I turned back to Jamie. He seemed impossibly far away. His head was towards us, face-up. His ears were under, his neck, chin, most of his hair … the sand was at the corners of his eyes. They were staring upwards at the sky; I realised the gulls were still there, circling and calling. As I watched, Jamie’s eyes rolled to meet mine with an expression I couldn’t begin to read. Below the moon face, his tummy bulged like a round island. Further down his toes stuck up, two rows of little pink mushrooms sprouting out of the sand.

  ‘At least he doesn’t seem to be sinking much, now that Gen …’ Rich was muttering. ‘I reckon there’s time to —’

  ‘Adam. Richard.’ It was Kenta. She spoke quietly, but there was something in her voice …

  Was Gen … I turned. Gen was huddled safe in the cloak, her head cradled in her arms. But Kenta — Kenta was pointing. I followed the direction of her hand … and my heart stopped.

  A endless sheet of gleaming water was creeping towards us. Rhythmic ripples edged with froth slid across the sand in a stealthy moonwalk, each wavelet sneaking over the next to bring the sea closer, then closer still.

  I’d been wrong. The sea wasn’t coming in like an express train.

  It was coming in like the tide: silent, unstoppable, deadly.

  Jamie

  I tore my eyes away from the water and back to Jamie. ‘Wh-what is it?’ he quavered. ‘What have you seen?’

  I imagined how he must feel — lying trapped and totally helpless, seeing the dawning horror on our faces …

  I glanced at Rich. He gave his head a tiny shake. I knew what he was trying to say. If we told Jamie the truth he’d panic for sure — start struggling, and … Better to make up some soothing lie. But Jamie didn’t deserve a lie — not now, after what he’d done for Gen. If Jamie was in deadly danger, he deserved to know the truth — and be given the chance to deal with it in his own way.

  ‘Remember to keep still,’ I told him, my voice level and unemotional. ‘It’s the tide, Jamie — the tide is coming in.’

  Jamie’s face seemed to somehow sag. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he spoke, it was in a whisper I could hardly hear. ‘H-how far …’

  ‘Oh, it’s way away still —’ said Rich airily, glaring at me.

  ‘Not far.’ And then suddenly, seeing him lying there, small and brave and utterly helpless, I knew I couldn’t — wouldn’t — let it happen. The River Ravven wasn’t going to get any of us — not Gen, not Jamie — not now, not ever. ‘Don’t worry, Jamie — we’re going to get you out.’ It was true. I’d make it be.

  But there wasn’t a second to lose.

  My cloak lay between me and Jamie, damp and dinted, already almost submerged in the sand. It had held my weight while I pulled Gen over the sand — just. There was no way it would carry the combined weight of Rich and me — and to free Jamie, deep as he was, we’d both need to be right beside him. But if we were, we’d sink.

  We needed something solid to stand on. Something flat and rigid … planks of wood … the boat? But it was too far away across the sand … and the sea had almost reached us.

  Sleeping bags? Our packs? There was nothing …

  Jamie gave the tiniest whimper. The sea was lapping at his toes.

  Frantically I turned full circle, scanning the shore for something, anything, we could use — and then I was running, shouting over my shoulder for Rich and Kenta to follow me. Leaping across the sand — hurdling the remaining rivulets, now flowing strongly with the returning tide — bounding up the bank. I raced to the nearest clump of umbrella plants and grabbed one. Took hold of the stem just below the leaf, wrenched and twisted … it bent and cracked, pale greenish sap oozing out onto my hand. The huge flat leaf flopped over, but the stem was tough and fibrous and wouldn’t come away. I yanked at the fibres, trying to snap them, but instead of breaking they split down the stem … I tore at them, cursing. Then Rich was beside me, pocketknife in hand. One swipe, two, and the leaf toppled to the ground. Instantly we were on to the next, the next and the next — how many would we need?

  ‘That’s it — it has to be! There’s no more time!’

  The leaves were huge and slippery and weighed a ton. We threw them into a pile and hefted it, the three of us staggering under its weight. Slid back down the bank and tottered over the sand at a stumbling run, reeling like drunks, water splashing under our feet with every stride.

  Then Gen was there to help us, throwing down the leaves like giant green stepping stones, paving the way to Jamie. His wispy blond hair was floating now, like some kind of bizarre sea anemone; his eyes were closed, and his face wore a strange, peaceful expression.

  If the leaves held, well and good; if they didn’t, too bad. We’d all go down with Jamie. We ran onto them, feeling them settle onto the sand through the sheet of water. I dropped to my knees, digging frantically through the sucking wetness for Jamie’s hand. Across from me, Rich was doing the same; Gen dug under Jamie’s head and lifted it so he could breathe — for the moment at least. With every second, the water was deeper.

  Suddenly I felt something cold and lifeless as a dead fish — grabbed it. Staggered upright, feeling the leaf tilt; heaved. Rich was on his feet and heaving too; Gen and Kenta had Jamie’s head well clear now, pushing on his exposed shoulders for all they were worth.

  And then it was over. The river gave Jamie up, the quicksand releasing him with a popping slurp like marrow being sucked from a bone. Sobbing and gasping, we half-dragge
d, half-carried him to shore.

  I looked back over my shoulder — once. A smooth sheet of water covered the estuary, reflecting the blue sky and a couple of wispy clouds. A forlorn scatter of water-lily pads drifted aimlessly, turning on the tide. I had a momentary vision of what might have been … of Jamie’s face cold and serene under the water, his hair wafting like seaweed in the rising tide.

  I remembered how he’d spoken to me last night, the things he’d said. Now finally I understood what he had been talking about. And I wondered … had he had some kind of premonition that something would happen today — a premonition of how close he would come …

  We turned our backs on the River Ravven and walked northwards until we were well out of sight of the estuary. Here we turned inland, the hiss and sigh of the sea fading to a whisper and then to nothing, our clothes drying gradually in the heat of the sun.

  I felt an odd shyness with the others, as if we’d brushed too close to something none of us understood; come too close to looking into the eyes of something dark and nameless that would have changed us all forever.

  We walked on past lunchtime, through the long afternoon and into the twilight. At last the purple shades of evening blended into the deeper darkness of trees and we slowed and stopped, reaching for water bottles and hunting for the map.

  ‘I think we’re on the eastern edge of Chattering Wood,’ said Rich, squinting down at it in the gathering gloom. ‘What say we stop here for the night? We’re close enough to the forest to gather firewood, but hopefully safe from the chatterbots out here in the open. And we’re well out of sight of the north road.’

  My legs were wooden with tiredness. Poor Jamie was grey and staggering, the girls pale, pinch-faced and swaying. Only Richard was cheerful and full of energy, laying and lighting the fire practically single-handed and chivvying us all along with bad jokes and promises of a gourmet meal.